A Billionaire for Christmas

Miles does have that trademark butler smugness to him, but he wears it better than most butlers. It doesn’t come off as pretentious. More like… wise. Yeah. Wise. I really dig Miles and his confident body of knowledge.

“I know it sounds counterintuitive, but”—I also like all the big words Miles uses. I always feel smart when we talk because even though I’m not into using big words, I have a fairly nice vocab myself—“I don’t like risk, sir.”

“No? So… how the hell did you get into poker anyway? Because yeah.” I point at him. “That is counterintuitive.”

“I was a homeless kid living on the streets of Pittsburgh—”

“No shit!”

“—and I got hired by a man called Shoes to help him cheat during the local Mob pinochle game at Freddy’s Pizza in Bethel Park.”

“Whoa. Dude.”

“Yes,” Miles says. “It was one of my weaker moments in life. But Shoes was an astute player. And quite reasonable. He didn’t need to cheat, pinochle was his”—and Miles points to me for this part—“jam, sir.” I just chuckle. “But everyone loses eventually. He hired me when he heard about my math skills and he taught me how to count cards.”

“But didn’t they know?”

“Of course they knew, sir. But Shoes was, as they say, big time. And his uncle ran the pizza place. So as long as he didn’t cheat too often, they let it go. But everyone’s goodwill runs out eventually. He cheated the wrong guy, they killed him, took me to Chicago, and put me to work as the little footman for the head Mob boss there.”

“Interesting,” I say, nodding my head. “So that’s how you became a butler and a poker player.”

“Exactly, sir.”

“So… how did you get out of the Mob? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“The boss I was working for was killed by his son and I was thrown out of the house. I was in my twenties by then and playing lots of cards on the side. I had been to every underground tournament the old boss played in for years. So I simply started going to the secret games myself. Everything worked out from there. But then I saw Miss Dumas’ ad on the Modern Butler website and applied, thinking this would be a good way to work full-time and pay taxes.”

“Yeah.” I’m nodding and pointing at him. “They always get the bad guys with tax evasion, don’t they?”

“They always do, sir. You can still be part of the secret shady underground these days. But you must have an up-and-up side to you as well. It’s all trackable now.”

“Good thinking, Miles.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And that’s when Emma throws open the jet bedroom pocket door and says, “Turn the plane around!”

Miles and I both get to our feet. “Whoa, there, bossy babe. What’s going on? Is everything OK?”

“No,” she squeals. “Everything is not OK! Do you know what my mother just did?”

Miles and I both make those all-teeth smiles, preparing ourselves for Emma’s explanation. Because let’s face it, we all know how bossy her mother is. She even bosses Miles. And if I’m being completely honest here, when Miles is in the room, dude’s the boss. He just has this all-knowing, all-powerful boss vibe, ya know?

But bossy Silvia can even overpower my brother Johnny, so Miles doesn’t have a chance when Silvia gets her bossy on.

“She invited Kraken Karen to our street party tonight!”

“No,” Miles says.

So I say, “She did not,” even though I have no clue what the hell that sentence means. Kraken Karen? Did I hear that right? I’m not sure.

“See!” Emma is pointing at Miles. “Even you get it.” Then she pauses. “Wait. How do you know Kraken Karen?”

Miles presses his lips together and bows his head a little. And I’m like one hundred percent sure this is the moment that Miles has no clue. I’m about to write the date down for posterity because it’s got to be a one-time thing.

But surprise, surprise, Miles does know Kraken Karen. Because he says, “I’m very familiar with the Krakken family, ma’am. They are, quite literally, the kraken incarnate.”

“See!” Emma says again, turning to me. “Everyone knows the Krakkens are krakens!”

“OK, hold on, babe. Slow down a sec. Because I’m not in the know here. Who the hell is Kraken Karen?”

“Some pretentious bully bitch from my past, that’s who! Her little sister used to pee in our backyard and her brother used to spit on me when I was jumping rope. Aaaaand…” She nods her head and drags that word out like this is the real point she’s trying to make. “If she thinks she’s gonna wrap her filthy tentacles around your scrumptious muscly arms, she’s got another think coming!”

I look down at my muscly arms, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that Emma finds them to be scrumptious.

“Ma’am.” Miles is taking over now. “Is this request to turn the plane around a legitimate one? Or just a manic response to the news?”