Page 84 of Trailer Park Billionaire
And at that moment, surrounded by laughter, by love, by the ghost of my grandfather’s past, I realize something unfortunate: I might be falling for Ben fucking Lyon. Hard. I don’t want to be just his friend. I want to be a lot of other things to him. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
28
BEN
“To Ed!” I raise my glass alongside everyone else, the absinthe burning my throat as I swallow. Helena’s face scrunches adorably as she downs her shot, and I can't help but smirk at her from across the room. Our eyes lock, and something in her gaze makes my heart flutter and stutter at the same time.
This could have backfired big time. Fortunately, it seems like Mission ‘Framed One Last Time’ was a total success. Despite the tears, Helena seems happy—or at least as happy as all the sorrow allows.
Guy's voice crackles over the speakers again. “Alright, jailbirds, you've all proven yourselves worthy of parole. Come on out and let us celebrate Ed’s final freedom.”
The prison door swings open, and everyone shuffles out, laughing and talking. Helena rushes to me and grabs onto my arm.
“Is this why you’ve been a little weird all week?” she whispers, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Weird?” I feign insult. “I prefermysteriously eccentric.”
Helena nods, feigning understanding in turn.
“I figured, after that one evening, it’d be good to have a sort of non-funeral. And if that makes me weird… then all of these people here are weird too, because I can't take all the credit,” I explain, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep from touching her. “Sienna helped put me in contact with all of his friends, Guy wrote the script for the prison setup, and everyone pitched in with trivia questions about your grandpa.”
“Thank you, Ben. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Before I can respond, Arthur slaps me on the back so hard it echoes through the stairway. “That was something else, young man! Ed would have loved it.”
Helena’s hands around my arm tighten when she hears her grandpa’s name, but she looks genuinely happy—relieved, maybe even.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Sienna asks, linking arms with Robyn and Paige—Guy’s ex-wife, who helped with the setup, the lighting, and handing drinks to everyone at the end.
“There's a limousine outside. It’ll take us to The Drunken Muse just down the road—delicious food and stiff drinks. My treat,” I explain.
Just outside, leaning against a giant limousine, is Alexei, waiting to help the entire motley crew into the car, before he drives us to our destination.
The Drunken Muse is exactly what you'd expect—weathered wood, dim lighting, art plastered everywhere, and a bar stacked to the ceiling.
We push tables together in the back corner, and I make sure to sit across from Helena rather than beside her. Safer that way. Alexei slides into the chair next to her, telling some story about Russian drinking customs that has her laughing.
Once we get there, orders fly around the table—whiskey for Robyn, wine for Sienna, beer for Art, Alexei, Guy, and Earnest. Some order champagne. Elaine has a water. Helena asks for‘anything that isn’t absinthe’.
The drinks come quickly, and so does The Last Supper, a massive, shareable feast for the whole table.
I may not have known him, but I think it’s the kind of place Helena’s grandpa would have liked—unpretentious, charming, and real. Kind of like his granddaughter.
While we eat, people share more stories about Ed. Each one more outrageous than the last. I find myself laughing constantly, though I’m mostly busy watching Helena’s face light up as she listens to tales about her grandfather. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and?—
Under the table, something nudges my foot. Helena’s eyes meet mine over her Dadaquiri glass (which, I believe, she chose mostly because of the name). I lean back to see if Alexei is trying to secretly signal me something. When I realize that it's Helena’s foot gently touching mine, an unexpected jolt runs through me and causes my knee to jerk and hit the table, making the drinks on it shake.
When did her touch become electric?
“Sorry,” I say, and pretend to listen to whatever story is being told right now.
Helena doesn't look away, her foot also doesn’t move, she just raises an eyebrow slightly, as if in challenge.
I should move my leg. I should focus on the conversation. I should remember all the reasons I decided that Helena and I can never happen. That we can only ever be friends.If that.
Instead, like the idiot that I am, I return the pressure, nudging her foot back. Her smile shifts almost imperceptibly.
A couple rounds of drinks and countless stories later, the crowd at our table has dwindled. Sienna helped Robyn, Paige,Guy and Earnest home since they all live together in Haven anyway. Art left together with some other friends of Ed’s, and Elaine just made me promise to visit her at the museum next week before taking a cab home as well.
