Tom Billionaire Ch. 05

"What are you talking about?"

The first tears started rolling down her cheeks. Her lower lip quivered, and her skin tone was gray. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I'm so sorry for JJ. I'm sorry... Please... I'm sorry..."

"Taylor, Taylor!" I wrapped her up in my arms, and she shivered rather violently against me.

"I'm sorry..." she whimpered, then abruptly jerked away from me. I fought to hold onto her for a moment, but let go when she tried to stand. She staggered away from me, moving toward the far end of the landing.

I stood up, now on tense alert, ready to rush and grab her should she make a move to rush for the cliff's edge. She was a good ten feet away from the hill itself, so there was no immediate danger.

Taylor turned back, facing me. Still crying, with her left hand she reached up and traced the scar with her fingertips. And from her right hand came a small tube filled with white powder, held in by a black rubber stopper. "I want you to be happy, Johnny. And right now, you'll be happiest without me." With that, she quickly popped the rubber out, stuck the tube to her nose, and sharply inhaled.

Helpless, I held my hand out to her as the cocaine went straight up her nose. "Taylor!"

She wobbled a bit, snorting and shaking her head out. I watched as her eyes went a little glassy. A goofy smile spread across my wife's face. "I love you, Johnny," she stated. And then she reached to her wrist and pressed a red button on her medical bracelet.

"What?" I wondered aloud. But I didn't have long to wonder. The button lit up, an internal LED pulsing once every second. And shortly we heard the sounds of attendants hurrying down the hill toward us.

Patricia was in the lead. She scurried down the steps, glancing at me but focusing her attention on my wife. "Miss Brynn, are you alright?"

Still a little wobbly, Taylor turned to the attendant and gave her a goofy smile. And then she simply held up the clear tube.

"Ah, shit," Patricia cursed, recognizing the tube for what it was. She turned to the male orderly with her, and barked, "Page Doctor Abernathy. The patient just relapsed."

He nodded and fished out a Nextel. Meanwhile, Patricia went straight over to Taylor and took her by the arm. "Come on. Let's get you back to your room."

Taylor let herself be led away. But as she ascended the wooden steps carved into the path, she glanced back at me. "I love you, Johnny. Now go and be happy."

Taylor was the strongest woman I knew, stronger even than Cassandra when it came to pure willpower. I'd seen her fight through this topsy-turvy life of mine to get me in the very beginning. And I'd seen her fight through all sorts of drama -- from Martin Dean to Ashlyn and beyond -- ever since.

But now all that was left was an utter shell of the woman she used to be.

****

*-- MANHATTAN, NEW YORK --*

I stood by myself, staring out one of the windows of the apartment I shared with Vivienne and Evania, thinking about Taylor in Malibu. Rain drops splattered against the glass just inches away from me, and dark clouds hung over the city like a tangible gloom that blotted out the sun. Though this was a mild summer shower and not a full-blown Atlantic squall, it was still a day not so unlike the day that JJ had died.

I'd tried to return to _Promises_ the next day, to get another chance to talk to my wife. But the receptionist stopped me in the lobby and wouldn't let me inside, informing me that Taylor had not approved any further visitors.

I'd ranted and railed, finally barking that I was Jonathan Kwong, that *I* was the one who'd had her committed, and that I wanted to see my wife. The receptionist knew exactly who I was, and repeated that a patient did not receive any visitors if she didn't want them. And Taylor had explicitly told them not to let me back in.

I'd called Cassandra, hoping she could pull some rank or otherwise convince them to let me through, to no avail. Short of pulling Taylor completely from the program, as was my right as the person who'd committed her in the first place, I couldn't go in to see her as long as Taylor didn't want to see me. The only one who could override Taylor's wishes was Doctor Abernathy, but when I finally spoke to the matronly therapist, she steadfastly refused my admittance as well.

So I'd returned to Manhattan, to my life as Tom Eriksen. I was right back where I started, but I wasn't feeling as thrilled with my new life as I'd once been.

"You were right," I said to the glass. "She's not the same person she was four months ago. She's worse."

"You can't mean that," Kaitlyn said behind me.

"At least then, she was trying to function as a part of this family. She was gutted inside, and she was using drugs to take away the pain, but she still wanted to be my wife. But now? Now... she's given up."

"But YOU can't give up," Kaitlyn insisted.

"Seriously," Jeff added. "This is _Taylor_. The one and only."

I shook my head slowly. "You said she went to rehab to become better for me. It seems that she's made up her mind that becoming 'better' for me involves removing herself from my life and letting me move on without her."

"Because she still blames herself for JJ's death?" Kaitlyn queried.

Still not facing them, I just nodded.

My best friends were silent, having nothing else they could really say. I listened to the heavy raindrops ringing the glass window like a low-pitched chime for a while before I turned away from the window. I surveyed the room and the four people anxiously watching me.

Jeff and Kaitlyn sat together on one of the couches, looking at each other and trying to figure out what else they could say. Evania sat on the other couch, silent, eager to assist should I call on her, but likewise at a loss for what to do for me. And Vivienne stood against the wall to my left, her arms folded across her chest, biting her lip pensively.

I looked at my girlfriend, and I didn't like the lines of worry etched into her face. I walked over to her, and she instantly opened her arms to me in preparation to give me a warm hug.

I appreciated the gesture, but stopped short of embracing her. I reached up and traced her cheek, feeling the tension of her jaw muscles. I stiffened when I realized I was tracing the same line as Taylor's scar, and I abruptly pulled my hand away. "I told you my life here would not be all luxury and leisure, my dear. We've had a lot of fun, but perhaps it's time that you went home."

"I'm not leaving you," Vivienne stated emphatically. She looked hurt just because I'd mentioned it once again.

I sighed and didn't push her. Still feeling melancholy, I simply stepped away from her and paced around the room. I reached a point where I could turn and face Jeff's and Kaitlyn's couch. And I stopped and held up three fingers.

"Cassandra is still loyal, but she's back in Montauk waiting for the old Jonathan Kwong to come home, and that's just never going to happen." I dropped my ring finger.

Kaitlyn frowned, and looked at me sadly.

"Ashlyn is moving on with her life. Joey is in a good situation, with lots of help, and lots of little friends to play with. And she's got her hockey player. They're doing just fine without me." I dropped my middle finger.

Jeff sighed and gritted his teeth.

"And Taylor won't come home. She won't let me near her. She's convinced herself she destroyed our lives, and while I don't blame her for the accident, she might be right." I lowered my index finger, and then held up my empty palm. "My old life is over. It's done. And there's no going back."

There was a flash of lightning in the window, followed by the ominous rumble of thunder. The speed and intensity of the rain splatters against the windows picked up.

I turned to look outside, now feeling that even the weather had turned against me. And shaking my head, I simply walked into my bedroom and shut the door.

****

The others let me go, but Vivienne did pretty much what I expected her to do: she followed me. Nothing as simple as a closed door was going to keep her away.

At other times over the past several weeks, whenever I'd slipped into a bout of melancholy, Vivienne would immediately come to me and try to make me happy again. This usually involved a lot of kisses, warm affection, groping hands, and eventually rolling onto her back and spreading her legs so that I could exorcise my demons with some aggressive thrusting.

Not this time.

I sat on my bed, my head down as I contemplated my next move. I'd *been* contemplating my next move ever since being turned away from the _Promises_ lobby in Malibu, but I was no closer to an answer. The door opened shortly, and Vivienne came through, closing it behind her.

Immediately, I held up my hand, palm outward in the universal "stop" sign. "No," I stated firmly. "Not this time."

"But Tohm," she whimpered. And then stop sign or not, she came and sat beside me, reaching her arms around me in a fierce hug.

I sighed, letting her squeeze me for all of three seconds. But just when she moved in to kiss my neck, I reached up and tugged her hand off my shoulder. "Vivienne, _no_," I stated firmly. And then I stood up, pacing away from her. "Leave me alone."

"But Tohm-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I thundered abruptly.

She whimpered, clearly frightened by my sudden outburst. The instant rage had even caught *me* by surprise.

I turned around, an apologetic look on my face. "I'm sorry," I said much more quietly. Then I pointed to the door. "But please go."

Biting her lip, the pretty girl nodded hurriedly and then practically ran away. When the door was shut again, I exhaled slowly and sank onto the bed once again.

What to do now? The simple fact was: I'd been happier in Europe. For a brief moment, I'd dreamed of building a new life with Vivienne and Evania in the Mediterranean somewhere. But instead I'd come home with the intention of getting my old life back together.

That just wasn't happening. Taylor was a broken woman who was deliberately keeping me away from her. Ashlyn was moving on. Only Cassandra still wanted to be a part of my life, but she wanted the old Jonathan Kwong back, and I wasn't him anymore. I *couldn't* be him anymore. There was just no rewinding the past.

I held up my right hand, palm facing me. And then I curled my pinky in, using my thumb to trap it down. The three cornerstones of my old life...

For whatever reason, my thumb lost its grip on my pinky, and the last little digit sprang back up to join the others. I stared at my hand for a moment.

_Four_...

Something nagged at the back of my head, telling me that this was important. It wasn't that there was a fourth cornerstone; there was no one else in my life who had meant as much to me as those three. But there was still a fourth person of significance I hadn't seen yet.

_Olivia_.

My eyes widened as I looked up, staring at the far wall. Yes, Olivia, my ex-maid. She had never been a woman of significance in my life before. She certainly wasn't wife, mother of my daughter, nor devoted personal assistant.

But she'd had a significant impact on my psyche. More to the point, I'd probably had a significant impact on hers. And no matter how well the other important people of my old life were getting along without me, I couldn't forget being Jonathan Kwong without coming to some resolution with her.

I'd nearly raped her. There were no doubts about it. I'd said it myself, about Martin Dean: There is no 'blowing things out of proportion'. There are no 'mitigating circumstances'. Yeah, I'd been stressed out beyond belief, under more of a mental strain than I'd ever been in my life. But rape is rape. And even though she'd fought me off before things got to that point, the intent had been there.

I'd become the very monster I'd despised. The world should hate me.

But I couldn't wallow in self-pity and misery. I had to see her again. No matter what anyone else told me, I couldn't leave behind this life and start a new one without talking to her. She'd put me off before. I didn't blame her then. She had the right to never look at me or speak to me again for the rest of her life. But I had to try.

It was easier than I thought to find her. I didn't want to involve Cassandra. Actually, I didn't want to involve anyone. This was something I had to do for myself, by myself.

Still, I knew Cassandra would know where Olivia lived nowadays, and I still had my remote access passwords into the home computer network. All the codes had been changed, obviously, since the Sharpley theft. But I had the new ones and I was easily able to VPN into the system.

Cassandra also had a certain way of organizing her files. After so many years together, I knew the system intimately, and it was a simple matter to locate everything she had on Olivia Barnett. My former maid had moved out of the city after getting a big financial settlement from me. And within five minutes, I had her new address and contact information.

Everyone was still in the living room when I emerged. Jeff and Kaitlyn seemed to be consoling Vivienne, who was crying on one of the couches while Evania held her hand. All four of them looked up at me as I walked out.

I didn't say a word. I just went to the front door, and left.

****

*-- NEW BRUNSWICK, NEW JERSEY --*

After taking a seven-figure settlement, Olivia had first moved back home with her parents in New Jersey. After a couple of months off, she decided to go to college, and enrolled at Rutgers in New Brunswick. And just two months ago, she'd bought a nice house not too far from campus, living with her older sister.

Despite my GPS, it took me a little while to find her house. Night was falling, and I was still a novice driver. But after an hour and a half, I pulled up outside a pretty two-story suburban home and managed to parallel park. There were lights on in the kitchen and living room.

After turning off the engine, I took a deep breath and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. The last time I'd showed up unannounced at someone's house, the day had ended with Crystal Ward pointing a gun in my face. I didn't think Olivia Barnett was the type, but you never knew.

Eventually, I gathered up my nerve and exited the car. I strolled casually up the walkway, took another deep breath, and then rang the doorbell.

The door had a window set in the upper-half, gridded across to create four small rectangles. A curtain was covering the window from the inside, and after a minute, this curtain was pulled aside. A pretty blonde looked out at me, I assumed Olivia's sister, Alice. The family resemblance was unmistakable. "Can I help you?" she called through the door without opening it.

"I'd like to speak with Olivia Barnett, if possible," I stated, doing my best to look non-threatening. It wasn't every day a strange man showed up on a young woman's doorstep.

Alice frowned, looking at me as if she were trying to decide whether to volunteer Olivia's whereabouts. But just when she looked ready to say something, she jerked in surprise. Her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth while mumbling, "Ohmigod!"

I shrugged and smiled bashfully. She must have recognized who I was. A second later, she closed the curtain and dashed away.

I sagged, wondering what was going to happen next. Would they just hole themselves up inside until I went away? Would somebody come back to say something to me? I didn't know.

I didn't have to wait long. The curtain opened up again, and this time it was Olivia staring back at me. She covered her mouth in the same look of surprise her sister had shown. But a moment later, she opened the door. "Hello, Mr. Kwong," she said politely.

I had that bashful smile again, still trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. "Good evening, Olivia."

Alice was standing just behind her, simultaneously looking pensive and protective of her younger sister. Olivia glanced back at her as if trying to decide something. And then she stepped back and swept her hand into the house. "Won't you come in?"

I nodded and stepped forward. Olivia kept looking through the door, as if expecting several other people to be following me. But when it became clear that I was alone, and that there was no luxury Maybach idling on the curb, she closed the door.

"We were just getting to dinner. Would you like to join us?" Olivia asked, her gaze unreadable.

"Livvie!" Alice hissed.

"Oh, I've come at a bad time," I winced. "I could come back later if it would be better." But immediately after I said this, my stomach growled rather loudly. I'd been so upset after the failed trip to Malibu that I hadn't eaten anything since they served lunch on the plane, several hours ago.

I blushed and patted my belly. Olivia managed a pretty smile and then shook her head. "Please, I insist."

I bowed my head and replied warmly, "It would be my pleasure."

"We're not interested in your 'pleasure'," Alice seethed coldly.

All I could do was grimace and lower my eyes in shame.

Olivia shot a look at her at her sister, and then took a deep breath, schooling her features. When she had recomposed herself, she gestured to the dining room.

Things were a little awkward as the three of us moved in silence for a couple of minutes. Olivia led me to their dining table, a handsome dark wood set with six chairs. I was seated at one side and Alice was shooed into the kitchen while Olivia got out a third setting. And with nothing but embarrassed smiles between us, she also went into the kitchen.

I was just exhaling, trying to relieve my pent-up tension when hissed whispers filtered through the open doorway. Alice was complaining about something, most likely my presence, and all I really made out was Olivia's reply, "He's not going to hurt us."

"Do you really know that?" Alice hissed rather loudly.

I didn't hear a response, but a minute later, Olivia came out with a crock pot of stew, which she set in the center of the table. Alice followed after with a bowl of potatoes and gravy. And when the two girls started heading back into the kitchen, I asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Please, you're our guest tonight," Olivia replied politely. And then she added with a tart smirk, "Besides, shouldn't you be used to people serving you?"

I blushed mightily, but Alice cocked an evil eyebrow at me and pointed to a nearby cabinet. "There's wine in there. Why don't you pull out three glasses and open a bottle. I think I'm going to need it tonight."

That was enough to get everyone to chuckle, greatly reducing the tension in the room. I did as ordered, opening the wine cabinet and selecting a decent Merlot. I showed it to Alice for her approval before popping it, and soon the three of us were all seated at the table.

Alice said grace and then the food was served. We all got in a couple of bites before Olivia set down her fork and said, "Okay, let's get everything out. What brings you here, Mr. Kwong?"

I stalled by setting down my fork and then patting at my mouth with a linen napkin. I looked at the two women and replied, "Please call me 'John'. For one thing, I'm no longer your employer. And calling me Mr. Kwong makes me feel old. I'm 32, not _62_."

The girls, 22 for Olivia and 26 for Alice, chuckled at that. Olivia then repeated her question. "Well then, what brings you here... John?"

"You, obviously," I answered, all of my focus on Olivia now. She was just as pretty as I'd remembered, an exquisite eye-candy package wrapped around a very efficient and hard-working blue collar maid's mentality. She'd grown her hair out a little longer, now able to let it down in a layered look instead of the more efficient maid's ponytail or bun I'd often seen her with. Her clothes were casual, befitting a college student. And she blushed cutely when I looked straight at her.