Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

Chapter 52



Chapter 52

52. Good luck!

“Hey, I was wondering if you had two college-aged kids, a girl and a boy stowed away in here. They got in a barfight at my workplace, and I just want to see if they got into even more trouble after I snuck them out!” A familiar voice word-vomits right in front of Gerald, who is frozen at the door, and the abject fear 1 felt of seeing the NYPD at the door vanishes into an exhale of relief.

“Lemon!” Coraline crows and the man himself pokes his head around Gerald to give us a grin. Lemon is still in his work clothes, but his apron had been ditched, and there was a hair band keeping the scarlet strands from compromising his vision.

“Hey there, you two. I was just dropping in to check if you made it back alright. I wondered if you ran into the cops or went to a hospital.”

“How did you find where we are?” Gerald questions, his expression shady. He looks at Lemon with confusion marring his features. I don’t blame him; Lemon is a metaphorical human hurricane. His exuberant energy is almost as bright as the sun in our calm hotel room. The activity in the bar had dimmed him a little, I realized. Nevertheless, I feel glad to see him, and grateful after how he helped us escape the bar via the backdoor.

But I also wonder about Gerald. How on earth did he find us?

“I have my ways. Besides it’s not too hard to figure out that the people who came to a conference are staying at the hotel where the said conference takes place.” Lemon gives Gerald a good-natured clap on his shoulder before inviting himself in. He takes one look at me and cringes. “You, sir,” he points at me,” are going to be yellow and purple tomorrow. Damn, that’s a shiner.”

I can’t help but snort at that. “You don’t say.” And then I pause before asking. “What happened after we left? Did anyone call the cops?”

“Nope,” he replies, making himself comfortable on the couch next to me Gerald still stands by the door, staring at Lemon as if he had come down from mars. And Lemon does not even glance at him in acknowledgment.

..

“Nothing much happened. The frat boys took their friend home, and man, that was one good hook you had there, I’m impressed! After the frat boy left, I talked to the boss, and because nothing was broken or anything he decided to just let it go. I also talked to Matt, by the way, about why it took me such a long. time to get you admitted to the VVIP lounge,” the smirk on his face vanishes, “On behalf of our establishment, I would like to apologize for what happened back there. Matt was an idiot with half-a- brain. cell in his noggin’. He should’ve just taken the fee and let you in rather than do stupid detective work and insult you. I mean, who does that? And idiot that’s who. He needs to get his superiority complex checked. I never liked the guy anyways, but the boss-man knows his pop, so he won’t let him go. But the idiot got demoted back to storage and maintenance so it’s a win, I guess.”

Lemon ends his rant/explanation like that, leaving the three of us to blink at him for a solid five seconds.

Coraline glances between us, and Gerald’s severe expression also morphs into confusion. He looks lost.

“Wait, who is this Matt? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about him? What happened with him?” Coraline questions, “is he the idiot Jace decked?”

“Nope. That guy’s name was apparently Zack. Matt was the host at the entrance to the VVIP lounge when you guys were at the bar, but not anymore,” Lemon explains before I can, “Before everything went to cray- cray-town I told Mr. Battlestar here,” he points to me, and I can’t help but mutter the name to myself incredulously, shaking my head. Oh, but it was going to stick, “that if he got the money, he could gain access to the big boy club upstairs. It’s way quieter there, and your boy looked like he needed that.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were going to go upstairs,” Coraline nods in understanding.

“Why did I not get this part of the story?” Gerald interjects, and Coraline and I look at each other guiltily.

Lemon continues on as if he had not asked a question, “and then Matt decided that Jace-that’s your name right, Jace? That’s such a jock name, mind you, is it short for Jason?”

“Um, no?” I feel lightheaded at how fast Lemon changes topics of conversation.

“Oh, cool, your parents are really original, then,” I do not know if that remark is sarcastic or not. Should I be offended? “Anyways, Matt, big and burly with an ugly mug, decided that Jace was too poor to gain entry. So, he barred entrance and insulted him until the fight happened.”

“Well, in a way, I’m glad I didn’t go up,” I muse, “I mean, had I not been there, what could’ve happened?”

“I could have handled it by myself,” Coraline rolls her eyes, and shakes her head muttering. “you get shot once, only once, and suddenly everyone starts acting like you’re made of glass, I swear!”

“Wait, what do you mean shot?” Lemon squeaks, eyes narrowing on her.

“Nothing. What’s your real name? Coraline can match Lemon’s speed in changing subjects.

Lemon grins, “that’s a secret.”

“Why?”

“Cause, it is!”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Thoroughly amused, I leave Coraline and our new friend to whatever they are doing and stand up from the couch to move toward Gerald who is still gawking at Lemon.

“You manage to pick up the unlikeliest allies, Jace,” he comments.

“Lemon is not an ally,” I insist, “he’s real friendly, that’s all.”

“Keep telling yourself that. First Coraline, then that nurse, and now him. At least it’s not a woman this time.

I was starting to think you were a closet Casanova.” Gerald remarks with a dry tone, and I blink at him.

“Did you just make a joke?” I question.

Gerald shrugs, “anyone would have the suspicion.”

“Get your head out of the gutter. I’m not like that.” I murmur.

“Hey, so are you guys going to continue with the conference in the wake of these new events?” Lemon asks loudly.

“Well, yes,” I reply, “what else would we do?”

He snorts, “Nothing I suppose. But hey, good luck explaining that to the business types!”

He moves his hand in a rotational motion at my face. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing.


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