The billionaire's Second Chance

KATE POV I was lying curled up on my twin trundle bed when I began to hear my grandpa’s voice echoing from the balcony downstairs. “Kate, honey, could you come join me for a minute? I’ve made some yummy pancakes,” he announced in his typical playful voice. I rolled lazily from side to side. Wasn’t it ten minutes ago that we had some French fries for breakfast? “They are really good,” his voice reverberated again. “Okay, grandpa,” I responded lazily and knowingly. “Just give me a moment to change.” “Alright, honey,” he said. Grandpa was always like this, treating me like his little pet. Since my graduation from the University of California and the subsequent employment letter I received a week ago from Murphy's company, this loving, patronizing attitude of his has worsened or, should I say, become much more affectionate. Either way, it made me feel precious sometimes, and other times it just made me sick. I let out an indulgent smile. Just yesterday, he had tried serenading me to bed like a little toddler. “James should be the one doing all these, grandpa,” I had said laughing, but he had continued without a care in the world. I smiled again to myself before stretching out and getting up from the bed. I ran my hands over the foolscap sheets and three files laying diagonally on my personal table, my laptop beside them with its backlight popping on and off at intervals, fluctuating my Tiger’s face screensaver. My phone vibrated on the desk the next minute. I leaned forward to check, and smiled when I saw who it was. “Hello, Katie...” James' voice pierced through the phone. “Hi, darling, on your way back now?” “Almost, if only the frigging roads weren't so choked up.” I let out a quick laugh and said, “Be patient, honey. Don't forget the chicken salad. Grandpa is about to render my tongue sour with too many fries over here. Hope you took my card with you.” “Yeah, staring at it right now.” “Alright, get some for yourself too,” I said. “Of course, I wasn't coming to watch you eat,” he replied sarcastically. I laughed again. “You're so unserious,” I teased before finally hanging up. I smiled to myself for a minute as I allowed my thoughts to rest on James for a moment. It’s been about two years now since he started living with me. Since then, life at the house has become so much easier for my grandpa and I. He helps run errands like this around the city with my car, without any complaints whatsoever. I loved men with a healthy self-esteem. He did not seem to mind that I was doing relatively better than him, academically and more recently, professionally. Immediately after my graduation from California State University, luck had shone on me once again as the first job application I made was to the popular Murphy Stone’s Group, one of the biggest multinational corporations in California. I had applied as an accountant, but had gotten the job of a secretary. Despite all these breakthroughs, James had never shown an atom of envy. Perhaps, because he is a billionaire’s so; I didn't have enough to impress him anayway. His family is one of the richest families in California. James was not particularly perfect. He had his issues with drugs, alcohol, and overspending. His dad had stripped him of his privileges and sent him away from the house years ago, after he was caught multiple times squandering company money to fuel his habit. His family had actually tried everything for him, numerous rehab stints, therapy, even legal intervention, but James’ stubbornness and refusal to change had pushed them to their limits “I know I want to change. I just don't like the sound of that old man ordering me around like some school boy no matter what he puts on the line.” He had said when narrating the story to me. He even said they had offered him a chance to retain his privileges, on the condition that he returned to rehab or be cut off completely. James being his typical defiant self, had chosen the latter, and now he was paying the price for his negligence. Sometimes, I teased him with it. His naughtiness would have simply been swept under the rug if he had agreed to their terms, but his refusal led to this catastrophic fallout. So, it wasn't that James and I did not have issues because of this, but they were issues I was ready to forgo because of his other positive qualities, particularly his loyalty and faithfulness to what we shared. He has never cheated on me since the five years we started dating. That wasn't something most men could give. Moreover, he has been understanding and caring, a true dear. I believed a lot would change about him after our marriage. James was teachable. Previously when we had our quarrels, he had promised to change and although they have been quite limp, I have seen him making attempts especially with the cigar stuff. I was sure he would not have any room for excuses anymore once we were a married couple. By the way the dream was always to get married before thirty and all I had now was just two years, so I needed to give this all the focus possible. There is no way I am letting go of such a promising relationship because of mere addiction. Besides, he had no other issues, I could totally see a future with him. I envisaged a perfect marriage with him: a peaceful, isolated life inside a small cozy house surrounded by a white picket fence, a pair of kids, alongside a dog, or perhaps, a cat. I rubbed my palms over my face and re-read the acceptance letter I had prepared. “Still feels like a dream,” I whispered to myself. I just couldn’t believe that I could get so lucky and so quickly too In my employment letter, it was stated that I am to resume on Monday. Today was a Saturday. I would be resuming as the new secretary to the CEO Murphy Stone. I had never met him. Although, his name was not new to me. The Stones were renowned as a family of billionaires, and the immense wealth they commanded is as ancient as the city itself, inherited across five generations. It was indeed a family of old money. Also, the CEO of Murphy Stone’s Group shared the name of James’ family name: the Gudamayers. But James had cleared me up on that, according to him, they were not related, perhaps he was a distant relative. I stared at the only photo enlargement in my room. The one I had taken standing in a pink nondescript dress at the orchard, with Grandpa standing next to me, his arm over my shoulder, a childlike smile plastered on his wise, wizened face. “I will miss him so much,” I muttered again to myself. By this time next week, I will have to pack out with James completely into the staff housing block located within the company’s estate. That was also part of the necessary bureaucracy associated with the job. If not, I would not have minded going to work from here. I am all he’s got, and he is all I have. That’s been the constant since my birth. Raised by my Grandpa, I was merely three years old when tragedy struck—losing my parents and grandmother in a plane crash. Grandpa and my nanny, Miss Lancelot, had been the only father and mother I knew. It must have been difficult for him. I sensed the hardship for a man as sensitive as grandpa. I could tell, but for my sake, he had mastered himself and had conquered the trauma so he could give me a life and a shoulder to lean on. While I was still thinking of grandpa, a thought suddenly occurred to me. An idea that would help me cope with the guilt I always felt whenever I thought of leaving. “Yes.” I murmured, nodding vigorously.