The billionaire's Second Chance

Chapter 2

KATE POV

I will reach out to miss Lancelot, asking her to come over and stay with grandpa when I finally move in with James.

I have discussed it with grandpa before and he says he is fine with it, but he is only pretending; I know him inside and out like the back of my palm. I know he is only feigning understanding. I see the worried creases beneath his chin and the redness in his swollen eyes. That is why we have had over fifteen different segments of ‘family moments’ since the past three days.

“If that’s what he wants, then he’ll totally get it. Grandpa deserves so much more” I said again to myself.

“Kate,” Grandpa’s voice echoed again. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, grandpa, I’ll be right with you.”

I flipped my laptop closed and hurriedly opened the door as I made for the sitting room downstairs in my nightgown, no longer bothering to change.

Katie, sweetie, you almost took forever,” Grandpa grumbled light-heartedly.

“I know, Poppa, and I’m sorry,” I apologized, rubbing my hand over his back to soothe him.

“Come on, darling, you know you can do no wrong. You know that?” He asked, almost too seriously.

“I know, come on, Poppa… I mean, how couldn’t I?” I made a face and chuckled.

“And oh, where are those heavenly pancakes? The girl is finally here to dig in, ready to gain some weight!” I cheered, flapping my hands.

Grandpa got up charismatically, immediately assuming the character of a chef. “Just sit right there, let me go get them,” he said, tottering towards the microwave. He added, “Trust me, Walmart’s got nothing on me.”

I giggled aloud.

After pancakes with Grandpa, he had fallen fast asleep, lying haphazardly on the couch, while I sat next to him, propping him up to rest more comfortably.

My smartphone rang repeatedly, I assumed James had arrived already so I hurriedly picked without checking who the caller was.

“James, should I come open the gates?”

“The gates of heaven I presume.”

I wrinkled my face when I heard the familiar feminine voice. I glanced at my screen for the second time and saw that it was my best friend Chloe.

Chloe had been my friend since high school. If I were to put it correctly, I would say she was my ride or die.

“Hi, Prom girl. Sorry, James, I got off the phone not too long ago.”

“What’s up, battleship priestess. Still with that guy?” Chloe mocked, she had never really liked James.

“No going out today?” She asked.

“Well, I was actually planning to, but what do I say now when my grandpa is just beside me,” I said jocularly.

“Grandpa? Come on, the old boy is a man of his own, why don’t you just let the poor man be, young lady?” Chloe continued her teasing.

“Shut your trash hole,” I said, feigning anger.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m actually at the Linea shop,” she said.

“The coffee shop?” I inquired.

“Yeah, just casually staring at some cute rich white boys… Why don’t you come join, mama, will you after all you’ll be leaving us soon?”

“Always… always the boys for you,” I mocked.

“Get over here, schoolgirl,” she voiced.

I paused and took a quick glance at grandpa on the couch, who was still fast asleep, before I said, “Save me a seat.”

“That’s my girl,” Chloe continued with her jesting.

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes before I hung up.

At the coffee shop, from the outside, I could see the brilliant pale golden lighting of the interior from a distance. The tables were arranged side by side with brown vintage-styled umbrellas hovering over each of them. It had a lot of wealthy-looking patrons seated on the arranged chairs, engaged in conversations.

Immediately as I went past the central transparent glass, I instantly caught the brown, humid smell of the coffee. When I turned, I saw Chloe sitting at a corner on one of the chairs, her legs crossed. Then she blinked with one eyelid naughtily alongside a head gesture that meant ‘Take your order.’

While shaking my head in resignation, I approached one of the baristas who warmly greeted me, offering a charming smile as she handed me the Americano Chloe had ordered.

As I prepared to pivot and head towards Chloe's direction, a tall man clad in an expensive three-piece suit abruptly dashed into me. The cup I was holding tumbled, and some of its contents splattered onto his white shirt. Chloe immediately stood up and ran towards us.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to the man.

‘She’s so sorry, sir. We apologize,’ Chloe pleaded on my behalf.

‘Sorry?’ The man asked with an angry smile. ‘Sorry is not enough, young lady. Your blind ass should at least look carefully before you leap so you don’t go pouring coffee on the president tomorrow,’ the man fumed.

‘I beg your pardon,’ I retorted. Chloe tried to restrain me, but I shoved her off.

‘You beg me what?’ the man asked, not believing his ears.

‘I said I beg your pardon. Who the hell do you think you are?’

‘Kate!’ Chloe yelled my name, pulling at my arm, but I flung it away.

‘Do you know who you are talking to, young lady?’ the man asked again.

‘Do I look like I care? Are you the pope? And even if you were, do I look like one of your aides?’ I shrieked bitterly.

‘You don’t go about talking to people like that. Get off your high horse, please,’ I continued.

The man's perplexed expression remained unchanged as he gazed at me silently. He brushed a small droplet of liquid off his shirt sleeve and stormed out of the coffee shop without saying a thing.

It was only after he had left that I noticed every eyes had been on me, including the shop owner, observing the situation from the beginning. Several people came up to me saying:

‘I hope you don’t regret this?’

‘Do you even know who that man is?’

“Who is he?” Chloe queried on my behalf.