A Billion Reasons (Wish 8)

3 - Kryptonite

Bea greeted him as cheerily as her dress. "You look handsome this evening. New tuxedo?"

He smiled. "Are you flirting with me?"

She laughed. "The perfect woman is out there for you. Be sure to make a wish. Your mother is here running the show."

"I'm sure she is." He chuckled and Bea winked.

The ballroom was filled with people. Bea was known for her parties, but never one as large as the gala. As he made his way across the room, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face his father.

"Monty. Nice to see you." Contempt laced his tone.

"I told you I'd come."

"You have a habit of skipping invitations."

It was true. Sometimes he didn't feel strong enough to face his kryptonite. He heard her laugh and turned towards her. How did she get more beautiful with each passing year? She was laughing with her sister and others, but only the sound of her melodious laugh reached his ears.

He grabbed a flute from a passing tray and walked out onto the patio. Trey Hayes stood next to his wife, Jessica, looking completely miserable. Monty felt a kinship to Trey. The old proverb misery loves company fit his draw to the oldest Hayes. Trey understood the weight of being the oldest son. Growing up with his father's name put pressure on him other children never understood, but Trey did.

At the same time, he had an odd friendship with Trey's wife. They bonded over the one thing they had in common - no one liked them. Jessica thrived on it. Monty didn't care enough to change it. As the old saying went, he'd have to love himself first.

Trey reached out his hand. "Monty. You look healthy."

"A few days in Saint Thomas. You should try it."

He had been some place else for longer than a few days.

"Unfortunately, some of us have to work."

Monty worked, but everyone defined him as lazy. One more thing he didn't bother to defend.

"Jessica, you look radiant this evening." She was a beautiful woman, but radiant was not close. Kryptonite was radiant.

Trey wandered off to talk to Ted Calhoun, another one who thought he was a playboy.

Jessica droned on about something as she touched him to make her point. She had her own reputation. Monty wondered what it would be like to screw her bony ass. He never would for many reasons, also he owed it to Trey for the respect he gave him as a kid. When a man is thirsty in the desert, he remembers every drop of water.

Monty nodded a few more times and said, "I promised my mother I would speak to some people. Save me a dance later."

Jessica smiled as Monty slipped back into the ballroom. His eyes met his favorite blue as she smiled at him. He nodded and slipped through the door, which led towards the kitchen. The catering crew were busy as he moved into the back hall and out the door leading to the garages. He didn't know if Gray saw him in the shadows as he leaned against the wooden clapboards and took out his vape pen.

He took up smoking during his first try at AA. He was still a young kid trying to belong some place. Outside the entryway to the church basement, ex-drinkers puffed on their cigarettes. Monty was drawn to the way their hands held the butt to their mouths and flick their lighters. A smoker's face calmed with the first drag.

It was one more nasty habit he needed to break, but at least with vaping the tar wouldn't kill him. Ironically, of his many vices, he wasn't an alcoholic. Did he drink to excess through the years? Hell yes! He did not have a physical addiction to alcohol like he did nicotine. He could go days without having a drink and often did, but he drank to numb the pain. He had drunk a flute of champagne and didn't need to have another. He could use a glass of water.

As long as he kept the pain at bay, he controlled his drinking. During moments of stress or depression, alcohol was his crutch like some people ate chocolate. Those were the moments his personal hero would intervene. He met Gray at AA three years before. On the surface, one would think the ex-marine who fought his own internal demons from his time in Afghanistan wouldn't be friends with the heir to Whitby Enterprises, but they understood each other. Contrary to what most would expect, Monty was actually Gray's sponsor.

Dragging on the electronic cigarette, voices caught his attention. From a distance, he tried to make out the shadows over by the garage. He stood against the house as the soft voice came closer. The approaching shape took form under the light.

The voice belonged to a small child being carried by a woman. She was too tall to be Bea's cook.

"Nite, nite to Mama."

The little girl with big brown eyes looked at him, hiding in the shadows, but the woman walked past.

A few moments later, voices floated out the door.

"You promised you could handle her tonight."

"Rosa, chill out. Lina just wanted to say goodnight."

"I haven't told Miss. Bea, you're staying over again."

"Lina, give mama a kiss. Now go to sleep for Tia."

Tia meant aunt, so the mystery woman must be Rosa's sister. The Whitby's treated their staff differently from the way Bea did. Even Alice hadn't been treated like family. His throat felt thick at the thought of his old cook. Another memory of his favorite maid conjured different emotions. He shivered in the night air.

Bea and Sage bragged about how their cook and gardener were practically family. His mother disapproved of the accommodations Bea made for the couple's child.

After the smack of a kiss and the little voice again. The door opened. As she stood under the light, he could see her face. She may be taller than her sister, but she looked younger. Her brown eyes matched her niece's.

As she turned to the garages, she gasped. "You scared me."

He held up his vape pen. "Sorry. Just a brief respite from the festivities."

She sighed. "I'd be dancing all night."

Her legs were long enough to pull off a sexy slit. They were not as long as another set dressed in a gorgeous gown.

"Goodnight." He nodded and turned towards the door, disappearing inside.

When he stepped into the ballroom, he nearly walked into his mother. "Where have you been?"

"Here. Mingling." He lied.

Jessica appeared at his side. "You promised a dance."

He flashed his charming smile. "I did." He motioned her on the dance floor.

He ignored her as she criticized the other guests. Her repertoire was petty, from women's dresses and hair to couples who touched too much. His amused responses were faker than most of the breasts in the room. He scowled when her insults turned to Victoria Calhoun.

"You know, the one dancing with my husband is just a little tramp."

Like he did for Trey, Monty felt a kinship to the youngest daughter of the building mogul. He had been out of the country over the holidays nine years before when Tommy and Jon left. The Whitby's were not the only family with dark secrets.

"Do you like anyone?"

"You. I never talk about you."

"Everyone else does. The drunk playboy."

"Don't you want to work?"

He shrugged. When people said he should work, they meant at Whitby Enterprises. It was his birthright. In fact, it was the only reason he existed.

The song ended, and effortlessly he and Trey switched partners.

"I haven't seen you all night." Tori spoke like she cared she hadn't.

He shrugged. "You know me always at the bar."

She sniffed. "You don't smell like scotch."

As the song ended, he whispered, "If you ever want a distraction, I'll give you a night you'll never forget."

Tori laughed. "I'm not interested in my sister's leftovers. That would be like if I... with Trey."

"Trey's married."

He lost focus as she led him to his kryptonite.