My Billionaire Boss (Book 2)(Erotic Romance) (2 page)

~

No lines, no strip
search/shouting/scanners, no getting crammed into a seat with some strange man
leaking over into your space and a screaming baby behind me --- I’m telling
you, I could get used to this private jet thing real quickly. Alas, I’m sure
Jordan is on American Airlines sweating it out, or in a car driving to
Boston.  Jordan has a lot of power and influence in the media, but Marcus
has it made.  Maybe I’m intimidated by all this wealth. Why else would I
be willing to turn Marcus down for Jordan?  Marcus is handsome, generous
and good to me. Jordan is an internet crush with all his money tied up in a
website conglomerate.  What am I thinking?

But, then again,
I’m pretty sure I saw a spark in his eye when I told him I wasn’t Marcus’
girlfriend. And, I’m also hopeful he saw the spark in mine. Entering the jet, I
decide to let the whole issue go for a while and enjoy the lap of luxury while
I still have it.

“
Madam, and Monsieur Kalle,” the French attendant guides us to a
private area of the plane. Dr. DeLong, and Jim will be in another section and
Chloe took the car up to Boston with some of the other “assistants.” 
Clearly a former model, the attendant is still so stunning I can’t place her
age at all. She could be thirty or fifty. I’m sure she is a conquest of Marcus’
as well — just like Chloe, Missy and Suzanne, the personal secretary. 
Does he think that is my destiny too? Will I be a washed up girlfriend working
as some kind of babysitter for the talent for the rest of my life? I’ll stick with
the internet king.

“
Thank you,” I say as we make our way to a secure area that looks
like it doubles as Mr. Eliott’s bedroom and office. August stretches out on a
couch facing the window, bouncing up and down on the cushions like a kid. I sit
at the table, letting my legs rest on the chair opposite me. If the young
writer wasn’t here, I’d be out of my bra the second we took off.

“
My name is Gabrielle. This will be a quick flight,” she says in
English enmeshed in her French accent. I want to nod with every word she says.
“If you should need of anything my name to call.”

“
Excusez-moi, pourriez-vous nous mettre une cruche d'eau avec du
citron. Je suis très soif.” August asks in perfect French. She returns with a
pitcher of water with lemon and two glasses. Real crystal glasses!  She
smiles at him as if he has given her the gift of a lifetime. He nods. “Merci.”

“
I’m impressed, August. I didn’t know you spoke French. You’re
amazing,” I pile on praise. He’s gotten little of that on this trip.

“
Americans think languages are so hard to learn. In Europe most
people speak several, plus we have to learn American English, because you guys
don’t know anything else,” he replies shyly. The compliment seems to overwhelm
him. “Besides, French is a beautiful wrapper for words. It is like coating them
with warm caramel. English is more like storing your words in plastic wrap.”

Gabrielle returns
and tells August in French we will be taking off in ten minutes. I realize she
will not attempt to speak to me again. Thank goodness August proves a willing
translator. The attendant turns the TV on and leaves us in peace, handing him
the remote.  I’m surprised he’s interested but he starts flipping
channels. He stops on Entertainment Tonight when we see his picture appear on the
screen.

“
Reclusive genius, August Kalle is having a rough transition on his
first American reading tour. The young Swede has been fighting his addiction
throughout the events according to this online report from The Vineyard.com.”

The screen switches
to a graphic computer with a clip of Dagney Van Der Vine standing in the lobby
of the Four Seasons shouting into a microphone. It looks like it was shot right
after I saw her.

“
Here at the Four Seasons a source close to the Eliott House
entourage confirms August Kalle has spent the last few days locked in his hotel
room in intensive rehab after a near overdose the night of his sold-out reading
in Philadelphia. He wouldn’t grant us an interview but Marcus Eliott has denied
these reports as quote, ‘categorically false’ and claims someone is misleading
our reporters.  But, the fact remains no one has seen Kalle in days and
Eliott House does have Dr. Cecil DeLong, a world famous addiction specialist,
on the payroll for this trip.”

August clicks the
TV remote through a few more channels before turning the set off. The plane
shimmies a lot more than a big airliner until we get off the ground. “I do not
like that woman.”

“
What woman?”

“
Dagney Whats-Her-Name who works with Mr. Davis. She butchers words
and uses them to degrade, to harm. She has no respect for the craft of fine
words.”

“
The question is, how is she getting her information? Whoever is
betraying Marcus is feeding her such a detailed account it’s scary. 
Notice how she always says the source is “close” to Eliott House, not an
employee or member of it. So it has to be someone like me, contracted from the
outside.”

“
Is it you?” August pushes his white lump of hair to the side in
order to make eye contact. He’s trying to see if I’m going to lie to him. I
won’t.

“
No. Marcus has been nothing but kind to me. I would never betray
him. But, I can’t imagine who would. Jim and his guys are the ‘death before
dishonor’ types and DeLong makes plenty of money without taking a fee from
Jordan.”

“
Maybe the person isn’t telling them for money,” August suggests,
reaching out to grab his composition notebook and hold it to his chest. “Maybe
there is something important to the person that Davis is offering.”

“
I can’t imagine what would be more important than money. You’re
right though. Jordan can’t be giving much of a finder’s fee. Maybe someone in
the hotel. If his information dries up while we are in Boston, we’ll know for
sure it wasn’t one of us.”

“
Us?” August chuckles, opening his notebook and scribbling the word
over and over in the margin of a page. “I have never been part of an ‘us’
before. It is a powerful word.”

“
Do you remember your mother and father, August?” I should know
better than to upset him this close to the interview with Jordan. Still,
curiosity propels me forward.

“
Not my father. He died when I was very young,” the young man
squints as if he can feel the self-inflicted bullet entering his father’s brain
as he speaks. “He was a scientist. A biology professor. A little famous, not
like me.”

“
There’s no one quite like you, August.”

“
He discovered the coming extinction of Incilius Aurarius and
warned they were near annihilation. By the time someone listened to him, the
toads were all gone. People think my mother drove him to suicide, but I think
it was that. The loss of the toads.”

“
Toads?”

“
Incilius Aurarius — the Golden Toad.”

My mind flashes
back to the night in his room when he called Marcus the Golden Toad. He must
think of Marcus like a father figure.  I press further than I should. “Did
your father also discover something about a silver hornet?”

“
I don’t think they exist,” he laughs and I feel like a fool. I
should stick to pies and dinner rolls. I’m clearly not a good detective.
“Except for jewelry.”

“
Jewelry? What do you know of jewelry, August?”

“
My mother had one — a silver hornet. It was a pin. One day my
mother took me to a cousin’s house for afternoon tea. It was very hot. She sent
me to take a nap and before I went she hugged me, and the silver hornet, hot
from the sun, burned my cheek. I cried. When I woke up, she was gone, and I
didn’t see her again for three years. I thought it was my fault, because I
cried about the silver hornet.”

“
Do I remind you of your mother, August?”  Great, I just aged
another thirty years.

“
No, why?”

“
Because you called me ‘silver hornet’ the other night when you
were high.”

“
Maybe I wasn’t high,” he countered mysteriously. “Or, maybe it
wasn’t you.”

“
L'avion sera débarquement dans quelques instants. Mettez votre
ceinture abdominale et préparer le rebond, s'il vous plait,” Gabrielle says to
August as she walks through our cabin to Dr. DeLong’s room. 

“
The plane is landing soon. She wants our seatbelts on,” August
tells me sweetly. I roll my eyes. “She said, ‘Please’ at the end.”

“
Always the peacemaker, August?”  I tease, winking at him
while I fumble with the clips on the belt.

“
Have you seen her hands? They are exquisite.”

~

“
Be careful,” the attendant says as I nearly miss the first step on
the tiny built in ladder of the private jet. Thank goodness she recovered her
ability to speak to me just in time. I tripped because I was looking at her
hands. August was right. They are exquisite.

I nearly fall off
the bottom step when I look up to see Chloe standing there with a limo. It’s
almost a four hour drive, how did she beat us here, ditch the former car, pick
up a limo and be standing in front of us with a freshly laundered uniform
smelling of jasmine? It’s not possible!

“
Mon ami!” Chloe calls, and Gabrielle nearly pushes me to the
pavement rushing down to hug her friend. They kiss and chat excitedly in
French. Dr. DeLong also pushes past me, grabbing August by the arm.

“
Adieu, mon cher,” he says, kissing Gabrielle as he pulls August to
the waiting vehicle and deposits him in the back.

“
Au revoir, Cecil,” she responds.

It’s like I died
and went to Heaven only to discover the whole place is one big Grey Poupon
commercial. I feel Jim standing behind me, encouraging me to join the others in
the car. “Do you speak French, Jim?”

“
I’m from New Jersey, Ms. Miller,” he laughs with a snort. “I
barely speak English.”

I walk toward the
car, watching Jim whisper something to Chloe that makes her kiss her friend
goodbye and get us moving. I purposely hover around the door to the front
passenger seat of the stretch limo, hoping she will invite me to sit up front
with her and tell me about Marcus. Nothing ever goes as planned. She walks me back
to the rear door and opens it for me.

“
I got your note,” I say, dreadfully jealous I can’t say it in
another language.

“
No time now,” she whispers. “I’ll catch you tomorrow, after your
interview.”

I climb into the
back and get settled in the luxurious seat. The guys are checking out the bar,
and August is playing with the seat warmer. With no meat on his bones, I
imagine he’s frequently freezing.

“
Listen up,” Chloe commands and the whole car gets silent. 
“When we get to the hotel I am pulling the limo into the service drive. As soon
as we stop, get out and head directly inside. Don’t look around. Don’t talk to
anyone. Dr. DeLong and August, you are in the Oakwood Suite, top floor to the
left. Here’s your key, Dr. DeLong.  Go straight to your room. Your luggage
will be brought up later.”

The two men nod
affirmation as if in a trance.  “Everyone else,” Chloe continues holding
court. “Including you, Ms. Miller, is going to go directly to the top floor to
the Presidential Suite. That’s where Mr. Eliott is staying. He is holding
meetings with all Boston staff and wants all of you present. Don’t look around;
don’t talk to anyone. Don’t talk to each other. Just get out quickly, silently,
and make your way to the top. Above all else — stay away from anyone from
Bookfeed or Vineyard.com.”

“
I don’t think Dagney Van Der Vine is here, Chloe. She was still at
the hotel when we left,” I say helpfully. I’m hoping she sees me as an ally.

“
You didn’t think I was here either,” she says, correctly, then
slams the door and takes her place in the front.

~