Her Billionaire Toy Boy

His voice was low. Lisa and Damien had leaned back as well but were engaging in a far less verbal activity. So, Mira thought, that was how it was going to be. She was suddenly extremely glad, for Sam’s sake, that she was there.

“Eh,” she said. “Long week. I feel like everyone was in a vacation mindset from Monday, you know? So the week felt like it lasted about four times longer than usual.”

“I get that,” said Sam, laughing.

“What,” said Mira. “Rough week for you, too?”

“Very,” said Sam. “I had to deal with those two for most of it.” He nodded at Damien and Lisa, neither of whom were remotely aware that they were a subject of conversation.

Mira looked at them, and then blushed and looked away. “Tell me they won’t be doing that all weekend.”

“I could tell you, but that would be a lie.” Sam sounded faintly bored and apologetic.

“Wow.”

“Well, Damien was never the most interesting conversationalist,” Sam said, shrugging.

“But he’s a good friend of yours.”

“Precisely. It’s only about good friends that you can be so brutally honest,” said Sam, sipping his champagne.

“How long have you two known each other?”
“Oh, goodness—it feels like decades,” Sam said, smiling. And then he frowned. “Possibly because it has been decades. We grew up together.”

Mira could not work out Sam’s facial expression, so she gave up. She leaned back into the comfortable cushioned seat and took another sip from her chilled glass. “Trouble in paradise,” she said, drily.

“Oh, the usual,” Sam said, airily. “He’s my best friend. He’s also kind of a jerk. Duality makes life interesting.”

“Or insufferable,” said Mira.

“Either way, I can’t imagine my life without him,” said Sam.

“That’s sweet,” said Mira. “How long have they been together, then?”

“Oh, on and off for the past year or so,” said Sam. “I don’t get the impression that Damien is looking for anything serious.”

“Whereas you are…”

Mira could hardly believe that she had had the gall to say that and gasped a little bit, but then covered it up as a cough. Sam laughed. “It’s so fun to watch you shock yourself. I mean, I’m having a great time with you, Mira.”

And he smiled at her so earnestly that she blushed again and looked out the window to distance herself from his intense gaze. “So…F-Farrow Valley,” she said, stammering.

“That’s where we’re going, yes,” said Sam, once again businesslike.

“You’ve made mention of an estate.”

“Well, yes.” Sam paused. “You know that I’ve made most of my money in wine, yes? And that Farrow Valley is known for its rambling acreage? Well, most of my vintages are first grown there.”

“So you must own a big piece of land there, then.”

“Most of it, yes.”

“Most of—what? The valley?”

“Yeah,” said Sam. He said it off-handedly, but he had basically just admitted to Mira something akin to owning half of New York State. Farrow Valley was one of the largest and most exclusive, expensive go-to resorts of the wealthy Mira could think of. She had well-to-do friends who counted themselves lucky to be able to rent small parcels of land in the valley part-time….

Mira shook her head. She wasn’t going to do well this weekend if she kept letting herself be awed by what was around her. She needed to comport herself as if this were a quite normal sort of weekend, one that she experienced all the time.

She spilled a little bit of champagne as she drank to this ambitious, for her, goal. She decided not to believe that this was a sign of some sort that portended the success of their weekend.

Sam looked at her curiously, and Mira realized that it had been a minute or two since she had spoken. Swallowing rapidly, Mira said, “I’m really looking forward to seeing it. I bet that it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is,” said Sam fervently. “The place has been in my family for a while—we’re all really proud of it. It’s definitely an oasis. I think we’re all going to have a great time.”

Mira smiled. “How far is it from here?”

“We’ve only got another half-hour or so,” said Sam, craning his head to check through the window and checking his watch. “It really helps that we started early; we completely beat out the rush….excellent…”

“What’s our itinerary for the weekend?” Mira asked the question and then cringed. What sort of person was she that she needed an itemized list of precisely how she was going to enjoy her time off? What sort of person was she that she was requesting such a list from a man she had gone on one date with and was now hosting her in his country estate?

She was herself. That was for sure. In all her years Mira had only just begun to realize precisely the sort of person she was, and she was rarely surprising herself anymore.

But she had surprised Sam.

“Ha, I thought I was the only one who went in for that sort of organization,” said Sam. “Good to know you’re a nerd about it as well.”

“I’ve got to be,” said Mira, relaxing. “So, we have a plan? Of sorts?”

“I wouldn’t be able to have fun without a plan,” Sam said, winking. Mira had only one second to wonder if he had her number and was making fun of her in a way. She did not know whether she appreciated this less than fun thought, but it was debunked and shooed from her brain in the most satisfying way: Sam brought out a laminated binder from his bag and began to leaf through his plans for the weekend.

“Are you a canoer or a kayaker?”

“Quite a leap of faith. What would you say if I were neither?”

“That I hope you brought a swimsuit.”

“Well, I did,” said Mira, “But I’m quite a good kayaker. My siblings and I grew up on the water.”

“Good to hear,” said Sam. “Well, I can now tell you that we’re hoping to do an all-day canoe or kayak trip on Saturday…and probably a chill day on Sunday, culminating in a bonfire on Sunday evening. And good wine throughout, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“What did you bring to do? Or read?”

“Well, I did bring my laptop, just so I can get some writing done,” said Mira. “I don’t plan on doing anything internet-y, though.”

“You want to actually feel like you’re getting away,” said Sam sagely. After a pause, he said, “If you don’t mind my asking—what sort of writing?”

“Oh, this and that,” Mira said airily. But then she blushed. “It’s nothing, really—I just find my head gets too full very easily, and that I feel better if I can get thoughts out of it.”

“So—like, a journal?”

“Sometimes. Other times I find myself imagining conversations between people who don’t exist, and I find myself writing them down just so that I don’t forget them,” said Mira.

“Fascinating,” said Sam. “So, do you plan on being a writer, then?”

“I’m not sure,” said Mira. “I rather like the stability of my current job. But writing is something that makes me happy in my hobby hours.”

“Nothing wrong with that, nothing at all,” said Sam. “So, as a writer, even if amateur: what do you like to read?”