“This is me.” Gloria collected her handbag as my Aston Martin slowed to a stop just outside Black Rocket Records. She thanked me for the ride and I wished her a good night.

I certainly didn't want the night to end, but I wasn’t leaving town any time soon—My father made sure of that— and was willing to take it slow and figure her out.

Gloria Grant intrigued me.

She was a beautiful puzzle— A Rubik's Cube with razor sharp edges and a mirror finish. I loved challenges; lived for them.

“Are you going inside or are you headed back to your car?” I asked, through the open passenger window when she closed the door.

“Why?” She gave me a distrustful look.

“It's late.” It wasn't that late, but the all the shops within eyesight were closed. “I'm going to stick around to make sure you get to wherever you're going safely.”

As Caldwell Hope evolved into the tourist hot spot it was meant to be more lights and late night shops would liven the place up after dark. It wasn't there yet, and without the perpetual bustle of people the main drag looked lonely and unwelcoming.

Gloria looked down, trying to hide her small smile.

“You're wearing the wrong suit to be a white knight,” she said, looking back up at me. “I'm headed back into the shop for a bit.” She paused, running something over in her head, then decided to continue. “You want a coffee? Y'know, as thanks for the ride”

“That depends—” I reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out the bottle of whiskey I stole from my new country club. “You mind if I bring my own sweetener?”

“Nope. If we had our liquor license whiskey would be on the menu.” Gloria said from over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

I got out and checked my key fob. I locked the car doors, unlocked them, then locked them again. The lights flashed and horn beeped obediently. Everything seemed to be working fine.

Odd, I thought.

When we left the country club my car doors were unlocked. I didn't have anything in there worth stealing so it wasn't a big deal whether they were locked or not, especially not in a town with as low a crime rate as Caldwell Hope. Still I specifically remembered locking the doors. The batteries in the fob must be dying.

Gloria unlocked the store, turned on the lights and fired up one of her elaborate drip contraptions. As we waited for the coffee to percolate she showed me around.

I hadn't noticed it the first time I came in here, but the shop had an excellent design to it. The layout of each section—records, unique and rare books, T-shirts and coffee counter—flowed perfectly into each other without feeling cramped. The aesthetic was bold, thick swaths of color that gave the place an energetic and punk rock feel.

A lot of care went into this place.

“Black Rocket Records is your baby, isn't it?”

“Every stain and bent nail.” Gloria tried to downplay it, but I could see that she took pride in her work.

“You have some good stuff in here,” I said, browsing through the racks of records. I slipped out an album by the New York Dolls. “Can I throw something on?”

“Sure.” Gloria raised an eyebrow at my selection, genuinely surprised I picked something as fast, harsh and dirty as the Dolls. She cocked her head to the side as she pulled out what could only be described as a beaker of coffee. “The iPod is behind the counter. It has all their albums on it.”

That made sense. It'd be horribly impractical to be changing records over every half hour when working. Scrolling through her vast digital selection, I forwent the albums and just put it on shuffle. I knew a little of the punk rock genre from when I played bass with Lucas as kids, but not enough to hold any kind of conversation about individual bands.

The thrashing punk song ended and something a little bluesier began.

It wasn't always bad between Lucas and I, but I tried not to think about those days. It was easier that way.

“Hey spaceman.” Gloria roused me from thoughts of my past, a wary look in her eyes. What kind of problems could a billionaire possibly have?

I might not have had to worry about my mortgage or debt, but I did have to fall in love and have a kid or else I'd lose my entire inheritance. It sounded like a cautionary tale that you'd find in one of those old Brothers Grimm-style fairy tale books.

Not the Disney ones with the happy endings.

Gloria placed the steaming mugs of coffee down by the register on the glass counter top that had all the Alice in Wonderland art. I grabbed the whiskey on my way over to her.

“You wanna do the honors?” She asked, waving a hand toward the booze.

“I don't want to mess up whatever magic you've got going on in here, but I'll be your assistant.” I unscrewed the top and slid the bottle to her, then I grabbed a stool from the long seating bar at the window and sat opposite her on the customer end of the counter. “Déjà vu.”

“Yeah, sorry about that morning...” Gloria scrunched her mouth to one side, looking mildly guilty. “I didn't mean to snap at you last time. I had just gotten into an argument with Judy and was in a pissed off mood. I'd like to think I'm not usually that rude.”

“You're just lucky the coffee was phenomenal.” I winked at her, then let myself relax enough to relate to her on an honest level. “I get it. We all have bad days.”

“What should we toast to?” She poured and mixed the drinks, then held hers up.

“To the Rocket’s massive revenue growth this quarter.”

“Jesus, man.” Gloria chuckled, sinking into a stool she had on her side of the counter. “No. I mean yeah. I hope we do well, but that's not something you toast to.”

“No?” I thought back to my last several business dinners. “That's all my shareholders seemed to care about.”

“No! You toast to health and good tidings. Vague things that make you feel happy even if you know they're lies.”

“Ok...” I blew the steam off my coffee as I thought it over. Raising my cup again I gave it another try. “Here's to new, unlikely friends. Better?”

“Better.” Gloria's black-rimmed eyes softened, and a hint a smile creased her lips on one side. I hadn't figured out if they were contacts yet. They had to be. I'd never seen a stormy shade of gray like hers before.

It was easy, too easy, to lose myself in them...

My father's challenge softly echoed in my head as we locked stares.

I abruptly broke my gaze, sipped my coffee and surveyed the room. A wave of shame slithered up my spine.

Damn. I hadn't even slept with this girl and that's what floats across my mind—How can I knock her up and win the competition?

I'd been with so many women that it was hard to remember them all. Through it all I'd always been up front and honest about my intentions and my commitment level, or rather lack of commitment level.

I showed them all a fun, hot time and never had any regrets. It was just sex.

So why did I feel so sleazy now?

I didn't like it. I was known to be ruthless, cold and maybe a bit of a jerk, but never dishonest. I had to get the truth out of the way now.

“I never wanted to come back to Caldwell Hope.” I said a few minutes later, finishing my coffee. The blues song faded into something by Buddy Holly.

She finished hers and poured herself a two-finger refill of just the whiskey. “And yet here you are.” Then without asking, she poured me a refill too.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“It's bad form to let a lady drink by herself. Besides you're a big guy, you can handle it.” Gloria shrugged and smiled. Her demeanor had softened so much since I met her.

Had I broken through her prickly armor? I doubted it, but she had at least lowered her sword from my throat.

“So why did you come back?” She asked, looking me over again. I noticed her inspection was a lot slower this time. Her eyes took their time over my muscles, and down to the bunched fabric that protected the world from my cock.

“I'm only here because of my father.”

“I heard.” Her face tensed into a genuine concern. She sipped at her drink with tentative discomfort. She didn't need to know me to understand having a parent slowly dying was terrible. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not just that.” I knocked back the rest of my whiskey and poured more. “I'm here because in order to win my inheritance, I need to get a woman pregnant before my brother does.”

“Jesus.” Gloria leaned back away from the bar, her face screwed up. “Is that why you drove me back? Are you hoping to impregnate me to win your contest?”

“No.” I laughed. “Of course not. Not even I’m that callous. If I was and that was the goal I wouldn't have been honest with you.”

“Why the hell should I believe you?”

“I'm a lot of things,” I looked up at her with nothing, but naked sincerity on my face. “But I'm no liar.”

Gloria darted her gaze away and I felt a pit form in my stomach. I wanted her to believe me.

Why was that suddenly so important?

I barely knew this girl and there was no way she'd be the woman to have my kid. I was just wasting my valuable time with her when I should've taken some other girl home. Some rich, dull blonde that would be receptive to the idea of faking a relationship long enough to give me an heir.

I knew all of that analytically, yet...here I was.

Gloria absently swished the last sip of whiskey around the bottom of the mug, finally swallowing it. After a refill and several more minutes of thoughtful introspection she asked, “Why not just buy a hooker or something?”

“That’s against the rules.” I shrugged. I'd never had to before and the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I could just disregard the rules and pay someone to have my kid and lie about it, but that wasn't me. I wanted to win. Really win. “It also feels...wrong. I’ve never had to buy one before. I wasn’t about to start now.”

“Oh there are rules?” She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“I guess so. My father was very thorough when he wrote up all this insanity.”

“I have no intention of getting pregnant,” Gloria blurted unexpectedly. “Not for a long while.”

Was she actually thinking about it?

I dismissed the thought. All the alcohol she packed into that tiny frame must have started to catch up with her; I hoped she wasn't driving anywhere soon.

“Besides you already have a baby.” I gestured in a wide arc about the store. In some respects, having your own small business was like having a child. You constantly have to feed it and help it grow or else bad things happen.

“Alright, Mr. Bigshot.” Gloria's eyes narrowed, but she leaned back in from across the counter. Her black, tussled hair fell in front of one of her eyes. Instinctively I moved to brush it back, but fortunately I was still sober enough to stop myself. “It's my turn to ask you. What are you doing here?”

That was a good question. I was still trying to work that out for myself.

Gloria was unique in many ways. She was forward, abrasive, filter-less and she generally didn't seem to care how people saw her. There was bravery to that; a boldness I couldn't ignore.

“I brought you back because you're more interesting to me than anyone else at that party.” I brushed my thumb across her knuckles. “I know there's no future for us. You're not going to have my kid, nor would I even ask you to. But I'd much rather spend the night drinking with you than people with 'their heads up their asses.'”

It was a weird truth, but truth none the less. Maybe I just needed a break from my life for a while. Maybe that's all Gloria was—a beautiful punk rock pause button; a commercial break; a lungful of fresh air in a smoky hall.

Whatever she was, I knew I wanted it.

And from the way her lips cracked apart in a hesitant smile, I could tell she wanted the same. Her dark eyes were heavy, but it wasn't from alcohol or tiredness. I'd seen lusty eyes enough to know them right away.

Then her damn phone went off.

We both glanced at the time. One in the morning already? When someone calls this late it's usually important. Gloria exhaled; letting her head dip out of exasperation, then roughly snatched her purse from beside the register. She fished her phone out and sighed again when she saw it was her partner Judy.

I couldn't make out what Judy was saying over the music, but from her excited tone I could tell that it was at least good news. What followed next was fifteen minutes of Gloria getting out half sentences before being cut off. She said uh-huh during that time more than I’d heard all week.

It struck me as odd that a woman like Gloria would tolerate this kind of partnership.

I'd learned in business that it was crucial to surround yourself with different and occasionally contrasting points of view. It helps you look at problems from more than one way.

These two though... They were fundamental opposites.

“Tell me,” I said when Gloria slapped the phone down and shoved it away from her like it was a napkin she'd just used to kill a spider. “How does someone like her become partners with someone like you?”

“She came with the money.” Realizing how bad that sounded, Gloria clarified. “I didn't mean it like that. Judy is... Well, her heart is in the right place. We went to high school together. I had the passion and the degree just not the credit for a bank loan.”

“But she could fund you.” Things started falling into place in my head.

“No, but her father could. The caveat was that Judy be co-owner so she could get some real world experience. She's great at being social, but still has a long way to go on a lot of other things.” Gloria propped herself up on the counter so she could sit a little more comfortably. In doing so her hand slipped and knocked her mug directly into my lap. “Dammit!”

I snatched the mug up before it could smash against the floor, but my pants weren't saved from a good splashing. Gloria shot up; looking horrified, then sprang off to grab a fistful of napkins from the dispenser.

“It's fine. It's only pants.” Granted they were expensive pants, but nothing I couldn't live without. “When you say a long way to go, how do you mean?”

“She tied up all of our liquid assets in booking The Deconstructed to play here when their album drops.”

“I've heard of them,” I said slyly, playing it cool. I'd actually been a big fan back in the day. There was a time in middle school when Lucas and I learned a few songs, but couldn't keep it together long enough to make the talent show.

It was a very short lived idea.

“Yeah, they're a big deal. For what we're paying them, you'd think we're booking The Beatles!” Gloria's face brightened with repressed irritation as she continued to speak. The flush on her creamy skin could've lit up a small closet. “In theory it'll be the biggest draw we've ever had which should translate into a lot of sales, but if literally anything goes wrong...”

“I can see why you're worried. Rock stars aren't known for being reliable.” Especially not that band. The Deconstructed practically had their own wing at a rehab resort in Florida.

“I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this.” She paused, looking a little flustered. How long had she been holding this in for? She didn't seem to be the kind of girl that made friends easily.

For as different as we were, we did have a few things in common. I often compartmentalized my emotions so I wouldn't have to deal with them. It was great for efficiency and level headed decision making, which was paramount when running a multi-million dollar corporation or a small coffee shop.

It wasn’t so good for… anything else really.

“Your secret's safe with me,” I said.

“Safe? I don't even know you.” Gloria padded her forehead with the back of her hand. “Shit, am I blushing? I think I drank too much.”

I rose off my little stool so I could easily reach her, then touched her face. Her cheeks were scalding like spilled coffee. She didn't pull away, so neither did I.

“You wear pink really well.” I smiled. “You're like my own personal Lite-Brite.”

“How old are you?” She teased playfully.

“Funny,” I said, brushing the insult off. Thirty-one wasn't that old.

Her deep crimson lips curled up at the edges. At that moment I wasn't thinking about my countless responsibilities at work or my father's illness or even beating Lucas for the inheritance.

All I wanted in life was to taste Gloria's sweet, pomegranate smile.

My hand shifted to under her chin, raising it slightly so her face was all I could see.

Over the store's speakers, the driving drums and crashing guitars of The Cure's song “Burn” thundered its dark melody just for us.

The paleness of Gloria's skin warmed in the subtle glow of the low hanging yellow lights above us.

And her eyes...

Her eyes glistened like a storming sea, wild and dangerous with sharp rocks lying just beneath the surface. I leaned into her feeling like the captain of a doomed ship being lulled closer by a siren's irresistible song. Every bone in my body hummed, warning me that nothing good was going to come of this.

For the first time in my life I ignored my instincts.

I kissed her.