Page 15 of The Billionaire's Heart

We all help Sunni clean up the field before we head out. I get in my car, and purely because of habit, I pray my car will start, but since Trevor and Mr. Gallo fixed it last night, it’s started every time like it’s new.

My body is exhausted and when I return to my one-room apartment, I’m sorry that I don’t have a bathtub to soak in. “Just be thankful you have what you have, Mia. Not everyone does.” I remind myself as I climb out of the shower and change into my pajamas.

I spend an hour practicing making granny squares with my crochet and just before bed, I pull out my business plan notebook and reread it. It’s something I do almost every night.Rereading my plans, making adjustments and notes as I learn or think of ideas helps me keep my focus on my dream.

My parents may have not wanted me, or even the many foster parents I’ve had over the years, but I’ve always known that I will accomplish my dreams if I just stick to my plans and tweak them as necessary.

When I was little, I would save every penny I had to buy one of those bridal magazines and then stare at each of the dresses; how they were made, what made them so beautiful, and the different fabrics. Then I would practically memorize every word in the magazine about every little aspect of a wedding.

Funny enough, I never dreamed of my own wedding. I’ve dreamt of having my own family, but never my wedding. I don’t know why, but I just can’t picture it. But I’ve always dreamed of helping other women, and men, I suppose, pick out that perfect dress that makes their special day the perfect day.

Some day.

Thursday and Friday were crazy busy at work because Mr. Gallo was out of town, Washington, DC, I think, and Mrs. Wilcox was running around trying to keep track of him and everyone else in the office.

There were problems at the marina and a yacht caught on fire because of a mechanical issue in the engine compartment. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but it did cause chaos in the office and at the country club.

The printers botched up the newsletter, and I was tracking them down repeatedly until they got it right. We were barely able to get it out on time to the members.

I’ve been looking forward all week to going out with Rick and his partner to Hooplas. Rick just gave me the five-dollar tour of Hibiscus Harbor. I’ve been too busy to drive around myself, so having someone give me the tour was a blessing. He’s shown me where he went to school and then to college, where the hospital is, although I hope to never need to know, and all the best places to eat and hang out.

I’m looking forward to trying the Bean and Bagel for breakfast one day on my way to work. One of my teammates owns it and Rick says it’s pretty popular and that if you don’t get there early, the line is usually out the door and around the corner. Must be good.

We pull into the parking lot at Hoopla’s and meet Rick’s partner, Dean, before we go in.

“So, how was the tour?” Dean asks as he pulls open the door.

Country music streams out, and the place is packed, just like the parking lot. “It was great. I’m glad I know my way around a little bit now.”

“Let me guess, Rick showed you all the places he loves to eat, the hospital, and where he went to school. Am I right? I feel like I’m right.” Dean laughs at himself as he fans his face.

“Bingo. Right on the nose.” I laugh along with him as we sit at a booth and pull out the menus.

“What can I get you folks?” The waitress asks.

We place our orders and Dean scolds Rick, “Why didn’t you show her where the park, nightlife, or even where city hall is, you dork?”

“Honey, she already knew about the park since she joined a kickball team. We passed city hall on our way here, and Hoopla’s is the only nightlife worth knowing. What more do you want me to show her? We live in a small town, baby.”

Dean shakes his head. “I guess you’re right.” He faces me, “So, Mia, tell us everything about you. We want to know everything. Leave nothing out.”

The waitress brought our drinks as I tell my rehearsed life story. “Well, I’m from Knoxville and I moved here last weekend. Um, let’s see, I love to crochet, and I just started on a kickball team called the Bad News Babes.” I shrug my shoulders. “That’s about it.”

Dean gives me a thumbs down. “Boring. Tell us about your family, your hometown, where’d you go to school, who you are dating. That kind of stuff. Good stuff, girl.”

“Dean, stop harassing my co-worker.” Rick scolds him.

I’m thankful for Rick’s intervention. Most people don’t treat me the same once they find out that I’m a foster kid. They usually ask stupid questions, and I can tell they wonder what’s wrong with me, that even my parents didn’t want me, or they treat me like a charity case. Neither one feels good.

“But I want to know.” Dean whines and I cave a little.

“Well, Knoxville is a nice town, but there really wasn’t anything for me there and the weather was too cold. I found Hibiscus Harbor on the map and took a chance. I’m not dating anyone and I’m an only child and both of my parents are gone.”

Rick smacks Dean’s shoulder. “See, that’s why you don’t pry.” He looks at me. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah, me too, and for prying.” Dean says.

I smile at them both and lift my soda. “Here’s to new friends and new starts.”

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