I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found(11)

"That's not the issue. I'm not allowed to sell to anyone who doesn't have ID. Doesn't matter if you're ninety. You could be a cop. We could lose our license."

"I'm not a cop," the customer said, raising his voice a little. "I have a dime bag in my pocket right now!"

The kid raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes. Really. You want it?"

The kid swallowed hard. "The cameras," he said.

"Right," said the customer. "Jesus Christ."

I cleared my throat. I really did just have a frog in it, but both them immediately turned to look at me.

"I'm sorry," said the customer. "Why don't you go ahead of me? I don't want to hold you up anymore. I left my license in my suitcase. Just got back from France, for work, and I wanted a f*cking bottle of Hennessy…" he sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just a hell of a thing. Go on, please. I insist."

"Thanks," I said, awkwardly sidling up to the counter. I pretty much felt bad for everyone involved, but I knew I couldn't offer to buy it for him, or the cashier would have to refuse the sale. I'd done a brief stint as a grocery cashier in high school, and although we weren't allowed to sell anything harder than beer, we definitely had our fair share of conflicts with customers who thought their hair color should be enough proof of age to buy whatever they wanted.

"Just got back from France, huh?" I said over my shoulder, for no reason I could imagine.

"Yeah," he said. "Feels like it's been forever. It's weird, no matter how much I travel I never really get used to it."

"I'm the same way," I admitted, as I handed the cashier my credit card. "Too bad you don't have your passport."

The customer's eyes widened.

"My f*cking passport!" he exclaimed, abruptly un-tucking his shirt and reaching inside it. "Shit! I totally forgot. I've been wearing it in this stupid secret pocket thing I bought out of Skymall a couple years back. Forgot to take it off when I got home. God bless you. Seriously. You can take a passport, right?" The last bit was addressed to the cashier.




"Sure," he said. "It's a legal ID."

"Thank you, thank you," the customer beamed at me. "Seriously, hon. You just made my night. I was just on a plane for nine hours with two changeovers and my brain's turned into tapioca pudding. You're a lifesaver."

"No problem." I tucked the bottle of wine under my arm. "I hope you have a better night from here on out."

"Thanks, sweetie. You too."





CHAPTER FOUR





Somewhere very far away, a noise was starting to intrude on my consciousness. I ignored it for as long as I could, but eventually, it roused me enough to realize what it was. Daniel’s ringtone.

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling the mattress shift as Daniel sat upright. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, so I let myself stay half-asleep, vaguely listening with half an ear.

"Slow down," I heard him demand. "What did you say?"

I rolled over, suddenly awake. His voice sounded tense. I pulled myself into a seated position, staring at the back of his head and trying to make out the words on the other end of the phone. Daniel stood, abruptly, pacing over to the window and raking his hand through his hair. "I don't understand. How?"

The other person was doing most of the talking, which made it nearly impossible for me to even guess at the substance of the conversation. All I knew was that I'd never seen Daniel react this way. I stayed quiet, sitting in the center of the bed in the dark room, very aware of the sound of my own breathing.

"Well, it must be some kind of glitch, then. If you…" He was silent for a while longer. "You already talked to them? Why the f*ck didn't you tell me that in the first place?" His voice was elevated now, and I could see his body grow taut like a bowstring. "I have to hear about this now? From you? Don't they send some sort of notice?" He let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, well, 'I guess not' is right, isn't it? They wouldn't tell you what it was about? 'Suspicious activity?' I mean, what the f*ck does that mean?"

My throat started to tighten. Whatever this was, it wasn’t the usual misplaced panic from one of his business associates. This was the real deal. My mind was racing - what could it possibly be? Had he lost a major partnership of some kind? I knew they'd been negotiating some kind of sponsorship deal with one of the big software companies - maybe it had unexpectedly fallen through.

Daniel had his back to me now, staring out the window at the ever-flickering city lights. I turned on my bedside lamp, and he didn't even seem to notice. When he finally turned back around and started pacing to the other side of the room, I saw that his face was ashen.

I'd never seen him like this - not even when my ex-friend (and his ex-girlfriend) Flo threatened to turn us over to the INS for our sham marriage.

"What's wrong?" I hissed, but he didn't seem to hear me. He was still lost in his own world, listening to whoever was on the other end of the phone and completely oblivious to me. I sat in miserable silence for what felt like an eternity, before he finally hung up the phone with some vague promise (or threat) of talking again soon.