Whatever He Wants (24 page)

 
     
The following day at his office James
stopped himself from instructing Paul to make arrangements for Noelle’s
departure from the penthouse. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Paul was
another issue in itself. There was something different about his Executive
Assistant. He was as efficient as ever but the other man seemed aloof and more
than a little peeved whenever they spoke. The more James thought about it,
Paul’s affable demeanor had turned to something that was almost hostile.
Instead of the pleasant good mornings and polite inquiries, Paul was abrupt and
to the point.

 
     
Several times James had asked his EA if
there was a problem, but Paul always answered with a clipped “no.” James hoped
the younger man would get over it soon because it was getting old. While he
didn’t expect them to be buddies, James did care about his employees
well being
.

 
     
He called Paul’s office. The younger man
answered on the first ring.

 
     
“Yes, Mr. Rothschild.” And that was
another thing. While most of his employees addressed him formally, Paul was one
of the few who called him by his first name. Or at least he used to.

 
     
“If you have a minute, do you mind coming
to my office?”

 
     
“Sure. I’ll be right over.” Paul hung up.

 
     
A few minutes later a tap on his office
door indicated Paul was outside his door.

 
     
“Come in.”

 
     
Paul came in and closed the door behind
him before walking over and halting in front of James’ desk.  “What can I
do for you?”

 
     
“Actually it’s more about what I can do
for you. Please have a seat.”

 
     
The other man seemed surprised but sat
down.

 
     
James gave him the once over. There it
was: that hostility. Paul seemed to be looking through him instead of at him.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you in here. Don’t
worry,
it’s not about your job performance. I have no
complaints in that department. However I have noticed a change in you.”

 
     
“I’m not sure I understand, Mr.
Rothschild.”

 
     
“Right there.
Since when did you become so formal with me?”

 
     
Paul shrugged. “You’re my boss.”

 
     
“Let’s not split hairs here. I’ve always
been your boss but only in the last several weeks you started calling me Mr.
Rothschild. You seem upset about something. I know I may just be your boss, but
if there’s anything going on in your life or perhaps in this office that’s
giving you a problem perhaps I could help you.”

 
     
If he wasn’t paying close attention, James
would have missed how Paul narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “I really don’t
know what you’re talking about
Mr.
Rothschild
.”

 
     
“Paul. Cut the bullshit. What’s really
going on?”

 
     
“With all due respect sir, I feel if I
were frank about my feelings they may cost me my job so I think I’ll keep my
opinions to myself. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask me again.”

 
     
What the hell? “I am asking. You can speak
openly without fear of losing your job because I asked you to.”

 
     
Paul flexed his jaw as if he were trying
to hold back whatever it was on his mind. Finally, “Okay, but remember you
asked. It’s about Noelle.”

 
     
James stiffened. Paul had been with him
for the last five years. In that time, there had been countless women in and
out of James’s life. Paul made sure they were taken care of and he often
checked on them at James’s behest. Not once, however, had he mentioned any of
them, or seemed to be remotely interested beyond what his job required. James
was instantly suspicious. “What about her?” he asked tightly.

 
     
“I think the way you’re treating her is
atrocious. Not to mention—”

 
     
Paul was cut off by the sound of a loud
commotion outside of James’s office door.

 
     
“Miss you can’t go in there!”

 
     
The door flew open and a red-faced Gillian
stormed into his office. Her eyes shot fire and she was practically foaming at
the mouth. Her hair was slightly mussed and her clothes were wrinkled. James
had never seen her look anything less than elegant. Right now however, she
appeared to him like a raving mad dog.

 
     
“I’m so sorry!” Stella apologized, running
into the room behind Gillian.

 
     
Two security guards burst inside and
grabbed Gillian each taking an arm. “We’re sorry sir, she got past us. It won’t
happen again. We’ll call the police.”

 
     
“Get your damn hands off me!” Gillian
screamed struggling like a wild woman.

 
     
 
James held up his hand to halt the security
guards from dragging her away.  “Let her go. I’ll talk to her.”

 
     
“You’re damn right you’re going to talk to
me. Who the fuck do you think you are ignoring my calls. I know your lap boy
here must have told you I wanted to see you.” Gillian slammed her palms on his desk.

 
     
He received the messages, but he had no
intention of returning any of them. James chuckled at her outburst. “So this is
what happens when you’re ignored? What happened to all those elocution lessons
from finishing school? Show a little decorum, sweetheart.”

 
     
Gillian circled around his desk, her fist
balled with the clear intention of hitting him. One of the guards restrained
Gillian before she could assault James.
“Son of a bitch!”

 
     
“Seriously Gillian, pull yourself
together. No one in this room appreciates your tantrum. There’s no need to be
so dramatic about
AlCore’s
turn of fortune. You knew
it would eventually go bankrupt.”

 
     
“You asshole!
This is your fault. All David needed was a little boost. You could have helped.
I swear to God if he dies, the blood is on your hands!”

 
     
What the hell was she talking about? James
was well aware of the precarious state of
AlCore
but
he had no idea what his former lover was talking about.

 
     
James nodded to the security guard. “Let
her go. Wait outside and close the door behind you,” he dismissed him. “That
goes for the rest of you too.”

 
     
 
Paul and Stella seemed only too happy to leave
while the two guards hesitated until James made a sweeping motion with his
hand, signaling them to leave.

 
     
When they were alone, James focused his
attention on Gillian and saw tears streaming down her checks.
Real tears.
Not the fake crocodile ones she produced when
she’d told him they could never be together. No, this time her eyes were red,
her massacre was slightly smudged.

 
     
“Explain to me why there’ll be blood on my
hands? Who’s dying?
The old man?
Hasn’t he been at
death’s door for years now?”

 
     
Gillian’s lips trembled and her fists
clenched and unclenched.
“David, you ass!
He’s crashed
his car earlier today.”

 
     
James froze.  Even though David had
been his nemesis since they were children, he didn’t wish the man physical
harm. “I’m sorry to hear that Gillian.”

 
     
She pointed her finger at him, her body
shaking. “You drove him to it!”

 
     
“I can hardly be blamed for a car accident.”

 
     
“He crashed his car into a tree. There was
no alcohol in his system or skid marks on the street.
Can’t
you see, he wanted to die?”
James barely processed her words before she
was next to him, delivering a sound smack across his cheek. When she would have
hit him again, James caught her wrist and stood up.

 
     
“That’s enough. I’m sorry David was in an
accident but if he did it deliberately as you think he did, the person you need
to blame is him.”

 
     
“If you would have only—”

 
     
“What? Blindly given him the money to save
an ailing company he had no solid business plan to save. All that would have
done was delay the inevitable. I didn’t appreciate how he had the gall to send
you to see me in the first place when you had no clue about the business. And then
for him to show up and expect me to bail you guys out on the strength of our
flimsy familial connection—a connection he made damn sure to deny until it was
convenient for him to acknowledge it. Well, too little too late, Gillian. Now
he has to deal with the mess he’s made and you’ll have to live with your
choices as well.” He let go of her wrist, bent down and pressed the speaker
button to call the security phone.

 
     
“Yes, Mr. Rothschild?”

 
     
“Please see that Mrs. Alexander is
escorted out. And going forward, she’s not allowed back in the building.”

 
     
Gillian backed away from him, almost
stricken. “You don’t even care do you?”

 
     
“About what?
About David?
It’s sad, tragic even, but people get into
accidents every day.”

 
     
“He’s your brother,” she whispered, hand
to mouth.

 
     
“And he’s your husband. Shouldn’t you be
at the hospital with him? Did you come here in hopes I’d save you from the mess
you’re in? I’m not as gullible as I used to be.”

 
     
He could tell by the way she flinched,
he’d hit his mark. Gillian might have been genuinely upset but she was more
worried about her own future than she was David’s. “You didn’t use to be this
cold.”

 
     
“I am what you, David and the old man made
me. The three of you labeled me as a nothing, a non-entity. So you don’t get to
come in here and lay this shit at my feet.”

 
     
Just then security showed up, discreetly
tapping on the door before entering. One of the men grabbed Gillian by the
elbow but she yanked it out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me.” She ran her hands
down the front of her outfit before shooting James a glare that could have
killed him on the spot if she had that ability. “I hate you.”

 
     
“The feeling is quite mutual.”

 
     
“Go to hell.”

 
     
“I’ve been there Gillian and when I
visited, I noticed there was a spot reserved for you.”

 
     
She glared at him before turning on her
heel.

 
     
When he was by himself again, James sank
in his chair. A cold chill swept through his body. As he’d told Gillian, he was
not responsible for David’s action. So why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking?

 
     
For years he’d forced himself not to feel,
channeling all his past frustration and pain into a singular goal. From James’s
earliest memory the
Alexanders
had given him nothing
but grief. He should be celebrating their downfall, but the deep wounds they’d
inflicted over the years wouldn’t allow him his victory. It made him angry…
angry because the old man was too incapacitated to realize just how much
trouble the company he’d built was in. It also pissed him off that David tried
to take the easy way out. Gillian’s barbs had hit their target. James did fill
guilty and he had no reason to. The
Alexanders
were
still fucking with him without effort and it drove him crazy.

 
     
James couldn’t concentrate at the blurring
words on his computer monitor. His eyes were sore from strain and his temples
throbbed. Damn Gillian and her dramatics. She had no right to come here and
accuse him of anything after what she’d done—they’d done —to him.