Page 10 of Four Times Taken

One minute, my phone was there, and the next, it's slipped from my fingers as Ryan pulled it from my hand.

"Damn, you're rude. Have you even heard a single word I've said since you arrived? Yeesh. Whoever she is can wait," he said. "Tonight's my night to celebrate getting a job. Not everyone's rolling in millions like you are. At least pretend you're excited for me, bruh."

I swiped my hand across my face. "You're right. I'm sorry." I fixed a smile before pulling him in for a side hug. The karaoke bar doubled as a restaurant, so I called over a waiter. "Everyone, order whatever you want. Dinner's on me tonight. And keep the drinks coming!" I tilted my head and opened my arms wide, ready to welcome his forgiveness.

"What?!" Ryan's face brightened. "Now, that's what I'm talking about. Let me see this menu." He grinned.

"Now, can I have my phone back?" I crooked my fingers at him.

" You're going to be present or not," he said.

"Dude, I'm paying for dinner. Doesn't that make up for it?" I asked.

"Nope." He kept his eyes on the menu, and I shook my head.

"Matter of fact." He tapped on the screen. "I want to see the woman who's hogging all your attention." He swiped to unlock. Matt got up, interested to snoop as well, but Eric had gone silent within the last few minutes. It's not like him to not join in on a moment to clown me.

"Ah hell, now, what's the matter with you?" Ryan shook him out of his dazed state as Matt grabbed my phone from his hand.

"The man is wasted," Matt responded, looking at my screen and groaning when he found nothing to tease me about. "Aw, this is sad. Just when I thought one of us got lucky, he's just obsessively checking the stock market. I thought you were done driving yourself crazy over this stuff."

"More money, more problems. Hey, no more drinks for Eric, which means more for us." Ryan grinned, pouring himself a glass of the most expensive red wine they had available.

"Well, excuse me, when did you become my mother? Give me that." Eric playfully grabbed the bottle from Ryan after he filled his glass to the brim. Once Eric's own glass was filled, he raised it. "Congrats on the job, man. Sorry, I kind of zoned out." He took a sip. "How about you, dude? You all right?"

"Yeah." I ran my hand through my short, brown hair with natural blond highlights. "No. A stock I invested in isn't doing so well," I admitted, filling my own glass with wine and chugging it. Some of the red splashed from the glass onto my white T-shirt.

"Hey, hey. Slow down." Matt patted my back. "How bad is it?"

"Bad." I nodded. "I'll be out a few million dollars if it doesn't pick back up soon."

"Bro," Eric said. "Will you still be a billionaire regardless of the outcome?" he asked.

I knew he didn't mean anything by the question. We'd known each other for a while. Not as long as I'd known Matt, whom I met at a charity event when he made the very admirable decision to put some of his riches to good use. Still, I'd known Eric as long as I'd known the rest of the guys. Over a decade. I knew he wasn't shitting on my worries, 'Like oooh, the billionaire's afraid to lose money, poor him. Boo hoo.'

So, I tossed my head from side to side as relief battled with anxiety within me. "Yeah." I nodded.

"Then stop sweating, man." He tipped his glass to me with a big old smile. "Join in on the celebration, my man. Everything's going to be fine."

He's right. Of course he is. It's just that I didn't grow up with money, you know? For most of my life, I was broke as hell. My mom, whatever drug-wielding boyfriend she had at the time, and I lived in a one-bedroom, having to choose between making rent, keeping the electric and water on, or food. That guy's still inside me. Sure, I invested in my first stock on a prayer and hit it big. I managed to keep up that stream of hitting it big, back to back for a long time. But I still worry about growing broke.

Yes, I know I'm a billionaire. It sounds insane that I would ever worry about money again. Maybe I am insane. But it's not like the money is just sitting there. After hitting the jackpot a few years in, I did all the things I promised myself I'd do. I got my mother out of poverty, sent her to rehab several times, paid for her counseling, bought her a house, and paid for her to live. I still do it to this day.

With each stroke of luck I had with the stocks, I fulfilled another dream of mine. When I was a kid, I'd volunteer my time every summer at rehab facilities and charitable organizations, with the hope that one day I'd be able to invest in those facilities. So I did. Not only have I invested in those, but also similar organizations anywhere I go in the world. I've seen the abuse my mother faced and her drug addiction, I wanted to help other women who were going through it.

Also, selfishly, I enjoy a life of luxury. And travel, obviously. I like to spoil myself and spoil my friends. To do all the things I do, I need to make sure I'm replenishing my accounts. So a few millions might not sound like a lot compared to the billions I have left. But I make my money by investing in stocks. If I've lost my ability to play the game, a few millions could become a few billion in the blink of an eye. I fear I'd be right back at square one, even though I know better. I'm not a clueless kid anymore. I'm aware of how to make and keep money. So, I'll be fine. The thing with anxiety is that you can know something all you want, there's no place for logic.

This is what I love most about my friends though. I'm not naturally a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, like they are. When I'm in their company, however, I can't help but be. I tucked my phone away in my pocket and took their advice, living in the moment and celebrating my best friend for his win, instead of focusing on my losses.

As a matter of fact, I was in the mood for dancing.

Chapter 5

Eric

Drunk, singing and dancing, the guys wrapped their arms around each other as we walked through the streets of Rome, but I'm lagging behind, my thoughts helter-skelter. Durham, North Carolina. As soon as I heard North Carolina alone, my heart galloped. Lucy. It's like that song I knew I loved you, by Savage Garden, except I've already met her. But I've been thinking about her so much, it's almost as if I have 'dreamed her into life.'

Since leaving there over a decade ago, I haven't had a reason to go back. Well, I should say 'excuse.' Because I've had a reason, I just wasn't sure how to show my face after leaving the way I did. I was young and inexperienced. At the time, I thought it was the best way to protect us. I see now that I could've at least said goodbye. It's not like I didn't know I was leaving for an entire month; it was the last thing I wanted to think about. Abandoning her.

---