Empire Part 3: A New Adult and College Billionaire Romance Series (Empire Billionaire Romance) (4 page)

Jonathan

I drop Rebecca off at work and head home to meet Dad. I probably have an hour so I shower and put on a pot of coffee. I’m on the last sip of my first cup when I hear my phone ring. I know it’s Dad from the ring tone. I hurry to finish and grab the phone on the last ring. He tells me he’s on his way over and will be here soon. We have a lot to discuss. This Mandy issue can’t be ignored any longer.

I hurry to get dressed. I’m barely down the stairs when I hear the front door open. Dad has come alone. Thank goodness. I don’t wait a minute to get into it.

“What’s going on with Mandy, Dad?”

“Oh, you too? Can’t a man get a chance to sit and get comfortable before the third degree starts?”

“Sit, Dad,” I tell him. I watch him as he sits. “There. Are you comfortable?”

“Sure.”

“Now tell me about Mandy.”

“Shit,” he growls, leaning forward with his head in his hands. “She wants a divorce now. Can you believe that? After all this time, and after I took such good care of her.”

The man is distraught, and also delusional. Granted, he doted on her during her cancer treatments. Still, for him to think she has no reason to want a divorce, he has his head up his ass. Right now, though, I don’t have much concern about their relationship. That’s his cross to bear. I just want to know what dirt she has on him, and what’s pissed her off enough to threaten to go to the police.

I get back to the pressing matter. “And what’s this about some trunk full of stuff she found?”

“Oh that. Who told you about it?”

“Claire was here yesterday.”

“Fuck. Her mother told her? Shit. We have to get this taken care of before it gets out of control.”

“What’s in the truck?” I ask again.

He shifts around, then leans back in the sofa. “It’s nothing major. Just some keepsakes.”

“What kind of keepsakes, Dad? Who do they belong to?”

He doesn’t answer me. He just looks at me, then turn his face away. Oh fuck. Well, fuck me. I’m praying the man has not been keeping souvenirs from the girls he’s offed over the years. The way he’s looking at me, fuck, I’m almost sure that’s exactly what he has inside the trunk. I just hope it’s underwear or locks of their hair, and not fingers or ears. Fuck my life right now; I can’t believe this shit.

“Answer me, Dad. What is it? Where’s the trunk now?”

“Mandy has it. I don’t know where she put it; otherwise I’d get it from her. I was hoping you could convince her to give it back, and to come back home.”

“Christ, Dad. Me? Why me? Why not Claire? Or even better, why don’t you talk to your wife?”

“Because she’s refusing to see me right now.”

“Well then apologize, beg, plead, buy her something,” I tell him. “Get her some art.”

I say that to see if he knows anything about Michael. He doesn’t flinch or react. Maybe he doesn’t know.

“Don’t put me in the middle of this. I think I’ve signed up for enough, don’t you agree? I’ve worked my ass off for you, and now I’m about to put my head on the chopping block. Isn’t that enough?”

“Hard work doesn't always protect you on the downside, and none of us get to play for free.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The timing isn’t good for me to go to war with Mandy, son. She’ll listen to you.”

“You’re probably right that she’ll listen,” I concede, raking an agitated hand through my hair. “But I’m not so sure she’ll do anything I say.”

He looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

There’s no point lying to my father. He has a powerful built-in radar for bullshit, especially where I’m concerned. I could never lie to him, so I tell him. “She asked me to come see her this weekend.”

“You saw her?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me more intently. “Where?”

I get up and start pacing. This is my father, but if he really wants me to help with Mandy, I can’t be the one to betray her trust about Michael or where she’s staying. Especially if there’s anything in that trunk that can bring my dad down. And I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to tell him his wife is having an affair. If he really wants to know, he’ll find out soon enough.

“It doesn’t matter where I saw her. I’ll talk to her, alright?” I pull out my phone and look for her number. “I’ll text her now and see if she’ll meet me when I get back next Monday. And when I do, Dad, I want you to promise you’ll leave me out of anything new.”

“Not good enough,” he answers as I’m sending the text. “And I can’t make that promise to you either. I need you to take care of this trunk issue today.”

“I’m flying out this afternoon,” I tell him, looking at my watch.

“It’s still mid-morning,” he counters. “You’ve got more than enough time to see her before you leave.”

“Shit. Dad, don’t you think you’ve got me doing more than my fair share already?”

“Johnny, there’s doing your share, and then there’s doing what it takes. They’re not always the same.”

“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll go see her now.”

“Good. And when you meet her, you can also impress upon her how important this Warrior deal is for Sloan Sports.”

I’m incredulous he’s still got the Warrior acquisition on his mind. “Seriously? I just told you I don’t want to deal with anything new. Let’s get this trunk issue out of the way. And I’ll beg her to let you come talk to her. That’s enough, Dad. And maybe that Warrior deal needs to go on the back burner. If she can’t trust you right now, I can’t see how she’ll want to help you close that deal.”

“This Warrior acquisition is a shot at really big business, Johnny. For both of us. I was going to talk to you about this when this Rushton issue blew over.”

He acts like the Rushton issue is someone else’s little problem. Such a small problem, it’s an issue. It’s like he forgot he created it, and that it’s my fucking life hanging in the balance.

“When the deal is done,” he continues, “I want you with me at the helm. There are only a few people who I think can be really, really exceptional at this. And son, you’re one of them. Remember what I always told you was my number one rule in business?”

I repeat his mantra like a parrot. “Nobody give you shit, Dad.”

“Exactly. Nobody gives you shit. You want to leave something behind in this life, you go out and you work your ass off, and you build it. What do you say?”

He won’t stop pressing me on this. I know him too well. I have to get him out of my place. I start walking to the door. “I’ll think about it, Dad. Besides, who knows if I’ll be a free man after it’s all said and done. I’ve got to take care of some things, Dad. And now I also have this Mandy deal with the trunk. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“You might as well talk to her about Warrior too, while you’re there anyway.”

I glower at the man. He has a massive set of balls if he thinks she’ll forgive him one day and approve a half a billion dollar transaction the next. I’m tired of his shit right now. I tell him I’ll try, just to get him out of my hair.

“Good. Thanks, Johnny,” he says. I open the front door and he finally gets to his feet. “I have a full day today. I’ll talk to you when you get back. I’m not too happy about the timing of this island vacation of yours, but I understand. Have a good time, son. I’ll see you in a few days.”

He meets me at the front door and puts a hand on my shoulder. He gives me a heartfelt thanks as we walk to the elevator. He even hugs me as we wait. For fuck’s sake, the man can manipulate.

Rebecca

After I leave Kara’s office, I grab a few files and head out. I stop for a large cup of specialty coffee near the office and walk home. Jonathan has arranged to pick me up around four this afternoon, so I have almost the entire day. I feel like I’m already on vacation. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so little to do.

I can use another coffee after a few blocks. I send a text to Sarah to see if she wants to meet me. She tell me to come by her place first, so we can catch up. By catch up, I know she wants me tell her about Jonathan. I’m not about to tell her much, but I won’t avoid her either.

I get to her building. She lives in a gorgeous, airy and modern condo building. Her concierge lets me up to her floor and she’s waiting at her door when I get up there. It occurs to me I haven’t been to her place before. It’s on the twenty-fourth floor and has a breathtaking view of Central Park. Her apartment is tastefully decorated, opulent, and shares her contemporary chic good taste.

Sarah lets me in and gives me a warm hug with one arm. She has a cup of steaming tea in the other hand. She takes a sip and offers me a cup.

“No thanks,” I tell her. “You know coffee’s my thing.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, leading me to her sprawling open concept kitchen. “This is seriously good fair market organic jasmine tea.”

“Positive. It doesn’t sound like it has enough caffeine for me to enjoy it.”

“You’d be surprised. Have a seat, hun. So what’s new?”

“Not much,” I answer, taking a seat in one of the bar stools around the center island counter at one end of the bright room.

She’s gearing up to grill me about Jonathan. I take my time and look around. There’s a wall displaying brilliant Victorian era art. I get up and walk over to them, enthralled but also in avoidance of her pending inquisition. I admire it as she stares at me for more details.

“Come on, Rebecca. I want details. Don’t hold out on me, woman. What’s been happening with you and Jonathan?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Stop the coy routine, Becky. Or was it a dream?”

“Sorry, was what a dream?”

“I had the strangest dream a few days ago. We were running with Buddy, and when we passed your building on the way back, Jonathan fucking Sloan was at your doorstep. And then four days later, I see you and you don’t mention what happened!”

I smile. I don’t mean to be enigmatic, but the more I tell her, the less I’ll be able to hold back on what I’m feeling for Jonathan.

“Tell me!” she demands, with eyes widened.

“Okay, okay. I’ve seen him…a few times.”

“What? When? I just saw you four days ago. Where did you get the time to see him so much already?”

“I can’t get into it, Sarah. It’s a bit complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

I want to tell her, but it’s not a smart move. “All I can say is his family is a client of my firm. Sorry, Sarah. I’ve already said too much.”

I think this will hold her off, but somehow, I doubt it.

“So what’s he like in bed?” she asks.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A question your girlfriend has to ask. After all, throngs of women have been chasing after Jonathan, and you’re telling me you’ve seen him a few times in less than a week. It’s either he’s in a heap of trouble, or you’re sleeping with him.”

She’s right on both counts, but I don’t add fuel to the fire by admitting anything.

“Okay let’s talk about something else. I can’t say more.”

“Shit. All those women have been trying to get his attention, and you’re practically fighting him off.”

“How’s your yoga classes going?” I ask to get her off my back. If I address any of her questions about Jonathan, it will only encourage her.

“I can tell it’s something juicy, dammit. Yoga’s fine. Hey, do you want to come to a free demonstration lesson I’m giving on Saturday?”

“I can’t. I’ll be away.”

“Oh? Going on vacation? Or traveling on business?”

“It’s for work.”

“Where to?”

“Oh, nowhere special,” I lie.

“You’re going away with him, aren’t you?” she looks at me intently. “Yes. That’s it! You’re going away with Jonathan. Why didn’t you tell me? Where are you heading to?”

“Jeez, Sarah. I can’t say more.”

“You’re going to have to tell me more, Becky.”

“Why?”

“Because. I need to know,” she says. She laughs, and grabs me with feigned urgency. “And you look like you’re dying to tell someone.”

“I’m not. But okay. What I’ll tell you is I’ll be in the Bahamas for three days. It’s with Jonathan. And it’s business. That’s all I’m saying, so you’ll have to survive with that.”

“Maybe you can make something up, then,” she teases.

“What? Just watch a movie if you want romance, Sarah. So where’s Buddy?”

“He’s at the pet spa.” She looks at the time. “I have to pick him up in a few minutes. It’s close to your place. Do you mind if we go now?”

“Not at all,” I tell her.

I gather my things and we leave. I’m glad for the reprieve, but she doesn’t skip a beat when we get outside.

“Don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?” I ask her while we walk.

“Becky, you’d better stop trying to change the subject. Did you kiss him?”

I must let something on in my body language. Her eyes practically pop out of her head. “You’ve slept with him,
and
you’ve kissed him. You can’t fool me.”

“Stop, Sarah. I’m not talking.”

“Come on, hun. I’m getting so little action, I think my crotch shriveled up and died. I need something to keep me going.”

“You’re wasting your time, Sarah.”

She stops me in the street and turns to me. “I miss our high school days. We used to share everything. Especially after that loser Bryce.”

She knows how to press my buttons. I’m not telling her more, but I remember how much time we spent hanging out that summer after we graduated from high school.

I concede, just a little. “Do you want to go for lunch after we get Buddy? But if you bring up Jonathan, I’m bolting. You hear me?”

“Shit. Okay, lunch.” She gets the message, but as I’ve softened the blow, a broad smile crawls up her face.

We pick up Buddy, drop him off at her place, and head to a small bistro for lunch, and to catch up on everything
but
Jonathan Sloan.  We almost finish our sandwiches and it’s going well, until I get a text—from Jonathan. He tells me he’s looking forward to the trip and we’re still on for four in the afternoon. She must read my telling smile.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” She asks, looking back and forth between me and my phone. “Holy shit, Rebecca. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

I look up at her and try to put on my poker face. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re in love with him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I put my phone away and take a sip of my water.

“It’s all over your face, so stop denying it.”

I scoff at her, but she continues.

“How on earth do you go from zero to head over heels in four days? The man must have some love potion or something. I heard he’s got a massive dick. Is it true?”

She doesn’t realize how loudly she said that. The people sitting at tables near us look over at us.

I lean in close to her and speak in a whisper, my eyes glaring at her. “This is why I can’t tell you anything. Now the whole coffee shop wants to know if he has a big dick, Sarah.”

She laughs and I’ve just about had enough. “I’ve got to get back home,” I say, gathering my things. I stand up and make for the door. “Let’s do lunch when I’m back.”

She follows me out and thankfully, has to go in the other direction to get home. “I want to know everything!” she calls out to me when we’re outside. “Have a good trip, Becky.”