THE BILLIONAIRE'S HIDDEN AGENDA

CLOSER THAN I PLANNED

Arnold's POV

The bakery becomes a usual stop and a habit begore i mean for it to .

Some mornings i order my normal cinnamon roll again , other mornings i ask to try out something new just to have a reason to sit a little longer , a cupcake , a slice of a cake with a name i cant seem to pronounce .

The waiters know my order before i say it now .

Some of them call me Mr Sterling while others just blush and giggle when i walk past them , and i let them because it costs me nothing and buys me the illusion of belonging there.

One morning , as i take my usual seat , one of the waiters comes to meet me at the table instead of waiting for me to call her over .

Then without warning , she reaches for my hand and holds it , and does not let go .

I feel my face shift before i can stop it.

"You look handsome for your age" , she says ,still holding on .

I do not answer right away .

I am thinking how to remove my hand and not make a scene, and Marisa , from behind the

counter , has already seen enough.

She approaches me before i finish deciding what next to do.

"Is everything okay", she asks while glancing between the waiter and me .

I explain it briefly.

"The waiter being a little too familiar , maybe used to serving me by now and caught up in whatever version of me the town has built out of a billionaire wandering into their bakery".

"I'm soo sorry sir" , Marisa apologises on the waiters behalf.

"From now on i will attend to you myself and you have earned the title of my favourite customer , whether i ask for it or not " she says .

I watch her say it and i believe for thr first time since i arrived here , that she means it .

A few minutes later, she brings a handwritten note, apologizing again, in her own hand, for something that was never really her fault.

I turn it over once , unsure what to do with the fact that she made this herself , not because I am rich , but simply because that is who she is.

She is like this to everyone .

I just happen to notice .

From my seat I can see the vounter clearly and i watch her pick up her phone and press it to her ear, already smiling before whorever is on the other end says a word .

I catch pieces of it without meaning to, my name , or something close to it , the word billionaire , and a name i dont recognise yet, Addison.

She is still on the phone an hour later .

By the time the finally sets the phone down , close to two hours have passed. When she finally ends the call , i decide its time .

I have reahersed it already , the words i am going to say and i walk to the counter to find her .

"Marisa", i call.

One of the waiters taps her shoulder, and she turned , surprised to find out that i am the one asking for her attention this time .

"Any problem , Mr Sterling". she asks.

"Don't call me Mr Sterling", i tell her .

Call me Arnold . Mr Sterling is for the waiters .

She smiles, an easy unbothered smile.

"No problem" , she says.

A second later she calls me "sir" then immediately corrects herself to "Arnold".

I tell her she looks beautiful today , how her customer service , apology gifts included is the best i have had anywhere , in any country .

"Thank you " , she says.

When i ask her if she will join me at my table , she hesitates only long enough to glance towards the counter before agreeing .

We talk about nothing important at first, the bakery , the town , the strange rhythm of a town where everyone seems to know everyone else's business.

Then without either of us steering it there directly , the conversation turns towards family.

I ask her about hers, careful to make the question sound curiosity and nothing more.

She gives it to me freely , her mother, her sister away at university , the weight of trying to build a better life for her sister .

She talks about her uncle Victor next , and something in her voice changes when she says his name , softer and prouder .

I am about to ask more , about him , the man she clearly worships, when the bell above rings and cuts the question before it leaves my mouth .

Victor Hail walks in .

He looks exactly like the photographs i have spent years memorizing , the same build , the same height , a face that looks exactly the same .

Marisa is on her feet before i can react , calling him out .

"Uncle vic".

Her face lighting up in a way i have seen her do once , watching him on television.

She wraps her arms around him , tells the waiters to set him a table .

"I cannot stay too long , I ony came to say hello to my favourite niece " Victor says .

Then she does one thing i never prepared myself for .

"Uncle, before you go , i want you to meet someone ", she says.

Before i can decide how to feel about it , she is already crossing the room to pull me up from my table while he waits at the counter.

"Uncle, Arnold , she says.

"Arnold , this is my uncle Vic".

He offers his hand , and i take it , and for one unbearable second I am aware of every version of myself I have built for exactly this moment, calm , charming and harmless.

"Uncle Vic " , Marisa says .

"He is the owner of Sterling Enterprises".

Something moves behind Victor's eyes, there and gone before Marisa notices it, but i notice .

I have spent years learning what a man looks like when he recognizes a ghost.