A Billion Reasons (Wish 8)

3 - Kryptonite

Twelve years later...

Monty secured his cufflinks with nimble, practiced fingers, before tying his tie. He didn't know why his mother insisted he purchase a new tuxedo for the Whitby foundation gala. As he slipped on the jacket, he admired the fit.

His mother had been more stressed than ever, because a fire at the venue caused it to cancel in the eleventh hour. Thankfully Bea offered her home. Monty had been to parties at the Petersen's numerous times over the past few years. Many were to celebrate life events for Bea's daughter, Sage. It had been twelve years since he set foot in the other two houses on the street. He wasn't uninvited, but returning would result in him bleeding out from old wounds.

With Jon on the other side of the world, he had no reason to return to the scene of his demise. A part of him died that day and in the aftermath. It took a few days for him to hear Sloane's message. She would always love him, but she had outgrown him. Her words may have been varied, but it boiled down to he wasn't good enough for her and she didn't love him enough. The result was painful for a boy with very little love in his life.

When he stepped out of his room in his Brookline condo, Gray Hoffman turned away from the baseball game.

"Any kryptonite tonight?" Monty nodded. "What's your plan?"

He grinned with his perfect white teeth and dimples. "Find a sexy woman to bring home."

"ERR." Gray tried to sound like a game show buzzer.

"Two? One for you?" Gray laughed but shook his head. "I have a bad reputation to keep."

"And these people are your friends?"

Monty frowned. "Very few."

Gray was his best friend. Monty may have the reputation of a playboy, but Gray was the only one who scored. Women seemed to go for the bulky, muscular type, not the brooding, pathetic rich boy. Men crossed the street when Gray walked down the sidewalk, but women drooled.

"What's your play?"

Monty sighed. "Fine. I'll do what I always do, act like I'm happy as shit."

"You're not happy as shit?"

"Not with you watching my every move."

"That's part of my job description. Chauffeur, sober companion, friend."

"You forgot pain in the ass."

"If I were a real pain in your ass, I'd make you tell the truth."

"I'm ready. Let's go."

"Fine. One day."

"Stop. We're in a good place."

"Okay, if you say so."

"Can't you focus on my improving relationship with my father."

Gray laughed. Monty would need counseling twenty-four hours a day to improve his relationship with old Montgomery. Monty stared out the window. The pain always lurked under the surface. The last thing he needed was to levitate his old demons on a kryptonite evening.

Gray pulled the nondescript BMW into the circular drive. "I'll be parked by the garages if you need me."

"I know. Always a text away. Don't be surprised if I find a date." He thought of the sexy package who worked for his mother, Maya, or Mia. She could distract him.

Gray shook his head. "I'll believe it when I see it." He jumped out of the car and walked around to open Monty's door. "Have fun, Mr. Whitby."

Monty smiled. He played his part well. He looked up at the Petersen house. A faint reminder of his happy childhood memories. Every one took place on this tree-lined lane.