“I was rewatching the news segment about your Christmas display and a comment caught my eye.”
The thrum of my heart was competing with the sound of Chloe’s voice.Please don’t let it be a secret wife.“What type of comment?”
“Would you just Google and see for yourself”
Unlocking my computer, I pulled up a search page.
Chloe rounded the desk, pointing at my monitor. “Search Kristoff Kringle Silicon Valley. If you search, Kris Kringle alone you’ll just get a bunch of Santa related hits.”
Maybe he had a criminal record, or he’d shot a tiger for sport in Bangladesh. What if he was some abusive, toxic, scammer wanted in three states? All I knew about Kris were the things he told me. What if every word out of his mouth was a lie?
“Hello? Would you hit the damn key?” Chloe’s annoyed voice pulled me from my doomsday imaginations.
I closed my eyes and hit enter.Please don’t let it be no fuck shit. Please don’t let it be no fuck shit.The feed came to life with entry after entry about Kristoff Kringle, big tech’s one to watch.
“Are you seeing this?” Chloe yelled as I scrolled. “Stop, click on that one.” She pointed to an article fromWired Magazine. When I clicked the link, Kris’s face popped up, he was on the cover. The title calling him and his company Virtual Labs, the future of tech. I didn’t even know he had a company, I thought he was an independent contractor. He said he created apps but failed to mention the team of employees working to support him.
“Scroll down,” she commanded. I did as she asked, stopping at a bolded section when she yelled out, “There … right there.”
I read one hundred and ten million dollars. It said Kris, my Kris, was worth one hundred and ten million dollars.
“This has to be some mistake … right?” Chloe asked. “If he’s rich why is he clocking in every day as a mall Santa?”
“Maybe he has a twin.” I’d never told Chloe about WordBop and Kris’s year of micro retirement. I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention his way.
“A twin who’s also named Kristoff? Not bloody likely.”
Yeah, it was far-fetched, but I would much prefer that over the other potential options. I was fine when I thought he was a modest millionaire with maybe a million in his bank account. This … this was millions. None of it made sense. Why didn’t he say he was a millionaire several times over and not some guy who just had a lucky break? You don’t accumulate millions off sheer luck. It’s not like hitting the lottery, that was luck. Earning millions of dollars required hard work, talent, and cunning.
After Chloe laid out all her conspiracy theories, she left me alone to continue to click on article after article filled with praise and criticism of Kris and Virtual Labs. A company he started at the age of twenty-four. I’d reached the point of information overload with each new story or video sending me into a steep spiral. I watched a thirty-minute panel interview with Kris and the guys who created the Angry Birds game.
Shutting my computer, I stared out the window at the bustling Christmas display below. I needed answers and I was going to get them from the “Millionaire Bachelor of Minnesota.” That was literally what he was called in an article from earlier this year inMinnesota Monthly Magazine.
After work, I headed to Kris’s place as planned. I decided it was better to wait until we were both off the clock to have this discussion. Confronting him at the mall could end up being a bad look for me. What if he was defensive or the argument took an intense turnWas that what we were about to have, an argument?
Now when I visited Kris’s apartment, I didn’t have to wait to be announced. I was on the approved guest list and directed straight toward the elevators. When the doors opened into his apartment, the lights were low and there was soft jazz music wafting in the background. Whatever mood he was attemptingto inspire was about to be shattered. Kris approached the elevator with a huge smile and open arms.
“You lied to me,” I said.
His arms dropping to his sides. “Hello, to you too.”
“You lied to me.”
“About what?” He fidgeted with the collar of his T-shirt not fully meeting my eyes.
“Everything.”
“Well that’s a lot of ground to cover.” He laughed nervously. “Did you talk to Tyler or something?”
“No, I Googled you. Well, Chloe Googled you, and then I Googled you.”
“Oh.” His posture slumped as his shoulders relaxed. I can’t explain it but it was almost as if he was relieved.
“You said you were a regular guy. Regular guys don’t have internet pages dedicated to their net worth. You know what comes up when you search my name? Diddly squat.”
“So you’re mad at me because of a Google search?”
“Yes.”
