When The Rich Son Falls

Nine

While James walked into the small grocery store, he found himself being followed closely by his newest hotel guest. Topher matched his step while looking around playfully, hovering like some kind of a taller, brighter shadow one step behind a person who was clearly unamused.

When James was about to get one of the shopping carts, Topher hurriedly beat him to it and pulled one with a gracious, “Let me,” and a kind smile.

James’s straight face made it clear that he did not appreciate the gesture. “I don’t need your help,” he stated, taking the cart from Topher and pushing it down the aisle by himself. Topher was quick to follow him once again—his determination unsullied.

“I can not help, if that’s what you’d like,” he said with a shrug, “but here.” He held the small, potted bamboo plant that he had just bought in front of James, who looked down at it then up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s this?” he asked suspiciously.

Topher placed the plant on the children’s seat. “The most simple and obvious answer is a plant. Less simple answer is a token of my apologies.”

“You’re bribing me for the long-term stay,” James paraphrased his words, but he held the pot in one hand to keep it from falling due to the unsteadiness of the cart.

“Uh uh,” Topher waved a finger at him. “It’s not a bribe. It’s an apology plant. The bribery comes after—actually, it won’t even be a bribery, because it will just be me showing you how great of a hotel guest I will be. How thankful I can be,” he claimed, taking off his sunglasses and putting on an innocent face.

James stopped walking and parked the cart to the side once they reached the aisle for drinks. “That won’t change the fact that there won’t be any rooms available.

“But there must be some way you can—"

“Find another hotel,” James simply suggested as he began to scan the products. When he found what he was looking for, he started to place packs of them into the cart.

Meanwhile, Topher’s smile had faded. “But the other hotel is a long way from here, and it looks even worse than your—”

James stopped in the middle of taking juice boxes from the shelf, just to glare at him, as if daring him to continue what he was about to say. Topher, realizing what he was saying, immediately shook his hands. “I don’t mean that in a bad way! Your hotel is great, but what I’m saying is that the others—they’re cottages, not even airconditioned rooms! And they’re on sand!”

James placed the fourth pack of juice boxes into the cart then faced Topher with a sigh. “Look, uh…”

“Topher.”

“Topher?” James repeated with visible confusion, failing to continue what he was about to tell him before. “What kind of an obnoxious name is Topher?”

“It’s short for Christopher,” Topher replied as if it was obvious.

“Then that’s Chris for short.”

Topher made a face at that. “I don’t like that commonplace nickname. It doesn’t fit my personality.”

James fought the urge to roll his eyes and settled on an exasperated sigh instead. “Look, Topher,” he said, “you’re in Mariner’s Bay. Much of the land here is basically sand, and nothing’s as high-end as what you might be used to, so be prepared to suck it up.” He then continued to push the cart towards the cashier, and Topher followed him once again.

“Please? I’ll pay you double the price for a room!”

“Can’t. It’s not in my hands.”

“Mandy said you own the place!” Topher insisted, pulling on the sleeve of James’s shirt as they stopped in front of the cashier, who smiled and greeted James by his name, and regarded Topher with a weird look at his warm clothing. After James responded with a quick greeting and a smile, he turned to Topher with a flat affect.

“There are still rules and regulations,” he said, placing the items onto the counter. “I can’t just cancel someone’s reservation just to prioritize your stay.”

“Why not? Your hotel will be earning more if you do—”

“Because that’s not how things work.”

“Why not?”

James glared at him then proceeded to pay the cashier, who had clearly been eavesdropping. “I’ll keep trying,” Topher said, making it sound like some sort of threat. “You know you’ll eventually fold.”

James only shook his head then took the plastic bags full of juice, carefully placed the bamboo plant inside one of them, then headed towards the exit.

“I’ll win you over,” Topher said. He put his sunglasses back on as soon as they stepped outside. “I’m not kidding, Jimmy.”

James turned his head to give him another glare. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped, clearly annoyed by it.

Upon seeing his reaction, Topher’s desperate pleading came to a halt and a corner of his lips slightly turned up into a sly smile. “Jimmy?” he asked, knowing that he had hit a nerve. “Why not?”

James shot him another annoyed look but did not respond as they crossed the street.

Topher’s smile only grew wider. “You can’t just reply with glares, Jimmy,” he said with a sing-song voice, making James immediately stop walking and turn to aggressively face him.

“If you don’t quit it, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Topher dared, taking a step closer instead of retreating at the sign of the man’s anger. “You’ll shut me up?” he teasingly asked.

James’s jaw clenched then unclenched as he tried to keep his cool. “Or I’ll kick you out before your week ends,” he answered before continuing to walk away. Topher’s eyes widened in a panic as he knew he’d been beaten. He caught up with James and forced out a chuckle to play it off.

“I was kidding!” he said, taking one of the bags from James, even though he was still carrying the bouquets in one arm. “Let me help you with that.”

James didn’t argue, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good; but he did not fail to notice that Topher was struggling to handle everything at once. It was also obvious how uncomfortable he felt in the heat and how he constantly kept wiping the side of his forehead and the back of his neck. James kept his judgment about the man’s choice of clothing—which he found to be incredibly impractical.

“So, what’s this thing with kids and this much juice boxes?” Topher asked, making it seem like he wasn’t having a difficult time.

“Every month, the hotel opens the pool for kids to get free swimming lessons and eat.”

Topher’s eyebrows knitted at that. “Isn’t there a literal sea of water near the hotel for those kids to swim for free?” he asked. He had yet to actually check it out, but even from where they were walking, he could see the water from behind the buildings.

“It’s safer this way since most of the kids are young, and we don’t have enough lifeguards.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

James gave him a confused look, and Topher explained further, “Do you get, like, tax exemptions?”

“No, it’s for the community.”

“Yeah, but what do you or the hotel get in return?”

James frowned at him, as if he couldn’t understand what kind of answer Topher was looking for. “Happy kids and families? A feeling that we’ve contributed something to the community?” he suggested, only making Topher look at him weirdly.

“That’s… odd,” he muttered.

“Figures you don’t understand that. You look like the type,” James commented, his eyes moving down to Topher’s shoes.

“The type?” Topher scoffed. “What type, exactly, Sherlock?”

“Nothing. Never mind,” James replied as they neared the entrance to the lobby of the hotel.

“No, not nothing.” Topher walked quickly to get in the way of James and the doors, forcing the man to stop. “You’ve already said it, so just continue. What type of person do I look like to you?” He had a look on his face like it was all in good fun, even though it was obvious that he was basically inviting criticism from a man he’d just met.

James let out a sigh, and without bothering to choose his words, he answered, “On the top of my head, the type that’s like a selfish and ignorant rich kid who spends his parents’ money for fun. A typical spoiled brat who has nothing to show for, who’s probably trying to kiss ass with everyone he meets to inflate his ego.” James stopped at that. He knew he had a tendency to be mean with words to people who deserved it, but he just might have been mean enough for the entire month—even if the man on their receiving end reacted with a smile and a scoff.

“You sure know how to mince your words,” Topher sarcastically said, making him immediately regret opening his mouth in the first place.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, believe me,” Topher chuckled. “That’s how most of the world sees me anyway. I’m starting to think that everyone just might be right.” He said it with a shrug, and before James could say anything more, he turned around and walked into the hotel, exclaiming, “I have a flower delivery!” as if nothing just happened.