The Redemption of Memphis Drake: A Second Chance Romance

by Shay Stone

  “She’d think about it? So, let me get this straight. You’ve worked side by side with her eighty hours a week for months and you “almost” got her to agree to go on a date with you?” I hiss making air quotes. When the hell did I become a guy who makes air quotes? I press on. “Well, after two hours she wanted to fuck me. And Saturday she had her hand wrapped around my cock. So, you tell me, which of us do you think has a better shot?”

  “I’d say you’ve got a better shot of dating each other than either of you have of ever dating me,” Nyla barbs, standing in the doorway with her coat on looking more pissed off than she did when I lied about California. She snatches the latte she left behind from the counter and marches out.

  Fuck.

  “Nice going, dickhead,” Mike sneers, but I’m already racing out the door.

  “Nyla, wait!” I catch up and grab her by the elbow, but she jerks away.

  “Don’t touch me!” she shouts loud enough to attract the attention of nearby employees. She puts her head down and starts walking towards the elevator. I keep pace with her, rambling like an idiot.

  “Nyla, please, I’m sorry. Just let me explain.”

  She punches the button to the elevator several times like that will make it arrive faster. “Explain what? That you and Michael were having a pissing contest to see who’s gotten further with me?”

  “No!” My hand flies into my hair. “I’m sorry. I just wanted him to back off.”

  “Yeah, well now I want you to back off. I hope you enjoyed having my hand wrapped around your cock as you so crassly put it, because from now on, the only hand holding your cock is going to be your own. I have a meeting to get to.”

  The doors part and Nyla steps on. I try to get in with her, but she holds up her hand stopping me and presses the button. “Just stay away from me, Memphis.”

  My eyes plead with her as the doors shut. I curse, pounding the side of my fist against them. I can’t believe I screwed up again.

  “How much do you think she heard?” Mike asks, skulking beside me.

  “I don’t know. Enough.”

  “You better not have ruined this for us.”

  “Me? You think this is my fault?”

  “Everything is your fault.”

  Unbelievable. His lack of self-awareness never ceases to amaze me. The buzzer dings and the doors to another elevator open. I step on deciding I can’t let the whole day pass without straightening this out with Nyla. Or maybe I just need to get away from Mike that bad. “I’m not doing this with you here. We’ll talk later.”

  “Of course, we will. Because you’re the one who decides everything.” I watch him stomp away, but he pivots coming back toward me. “By the way, it was my idea to get rid of your dog. Not Sheila’s. And we didn’t give him away. I shot him.”

  FIFTEEN

  Expect the Unexpected

  I lunge at the doors as they begin to shut. I’m going to fucking kill him. I’ve never felt such hatred in my entire life. Anger floods through my veins, blinding me with rage. “You bastard. You’re dead to me! You hear me? Dead!”

  Someone grabs me from behind, dragging me back into the elevator. He keeps my arms locked behind my back until the doors fully close and the car starts to descend. When he sets me free, I punch the steel door as hard as I can and stalk around the elevator like a caged animal, spitting curses.

  “Jesus, Memphis! What the hell happened?” Max asks, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket and staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. To be fair, I am acting like a lunatic.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? I have to hold you back to keep you from beating the shit out of someone, and you tell me ‘nothing?’”

  “He killed my dog.”

  “What? Who did?”

  “My brother.”

  “Mason?”

  “No, my stepbrother.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you were trying to attack a guy in your office.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to find Nyla. We had a fight. I need to apologize.” The elevator slows, stopping on a floor to allow a few more people to get on. I grip my hair in frustration. I’m never going to catch up to her now.

  We arrive in the lobby, but there’s no sign of Nyla or Edward anywhere. My luck’s no better outside. They’ve already gone to their meeting. Not only did I hurt Nyla, I did it right before her important presentation.

  Max’s driver sees him and rushes to open the door to a Moroccan Blue Bentley. “Come on. Get in. Let’s talk. I was about to text you anyway.”

  “I can’t now. I really should get back to work.”

  “If you think there’s any way I’m letting you go back in there now, you’re crazy. Come on. I’ll tell Edward I needed to borrow you for a consult. He’ll understand.”

  I slide across the backseat, sinking into the supple cream leather. Max speaks to the driver and then climbs in beside me. “What happened with Nyla?”

  “I got jealous and said something stupid and she overheard me.”

  “How stupid?” he asks, scrolling through his phone. “Are we talking flowers or jewelry stupid? I’ve got them both on speed dial. I tend to say a lot of stupid things, too. Jennifer could open her own jewelry store by now.”

  “Thanks, but I doubt either is going to fix this.”

  “It’s not meant to fix it. It’s meant to distract her so she won’t slam the door in your face when you show up begging for forgiveness,” he says, checking the incoming call on his phone. “Excuse me for a second. Yeah, Phillip. What did they say? They’re playing hardball, eh? Tell them I’m not moving up the purchase date until I meet with my lawyer. I need to compare today’s stock price to the price this time last year. There’s a file on my desk with the information. Email it to me. I have to go. I’m in a meeting.” He disconnects the call and tucks the phone into his inside pocket of his jacket. “My apologies.”

  “Which stock?” I ask.

  “WWAC.”

  I rattle off today’s stock points for Wain-Wright Automotive Corp along with the numbers on this date last year. I also rattle off the figures for two of their closest competitors.

  Max pulls out his phone again and checks the numbers. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I follow the stock market and I’m good with numbers.”

  “No. I follow the stock market and I’m good with numbers. You just went all Rain Man on me.”

  “I have an eidetic memory.” I gnaw at my thumbnail, debating. Fuck it. “Can I say something else?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not trying to tell you how to run your business, but personally, I’d sit tight and not offer them anything until you see if those miners in South Africa go on strike.”

  He seems amused. “And why is that?”

  I cross my leg, resting my ankle on my knee and pick a piece of imaginary lint from my sock. “Because if they do, and Congress sends those Russian sanctions down the pipe, it’s going to send the price of palladium skyrocketing, and that’s going to blow the profit margin. That is, unless Wain-Wright’s discovered some alternative material they plan on using to make catalytic converters. If not, they’ll probably be scrambling to find investors to help absorb the hit and you can pick it up for a fraction of the cost. And I can tell by the look on your face, you already know all of this.”

  He smirks.

  “The lawyer is just a stall tactic to buy more time.”

  “Very good.” He digs in his briefcase, retrieving another file, and hands it to me. “Take a look at this and tell me what you think. This is what my team is recommending I offer.”

  I read through the information and hand him back the file. “If you do, you’re overpaying.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The numbers look good on paper, but your analysts forgot to look at one key aspect.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A woman scorned. They’re only looking at the financials, not the person.
Daniel Addington’s wife just caught him having an affair with his twenty-two-year-old secretary. They’re in the beginning stages of a very nasty, very public divorce. It’s all over the society page. Anita’s an heiress in her own right. She doesn’t want his money. She wants his blood. Daniel built his company from the ground up. It’s everything to him. She’d probably sell you her shares for next to nothing just to drive the price of the stock down and cripple the company.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  I look at him expectantly.

  “What the hell are you doing working as a glorified accountant when you should be working in finance?”

  “I didn’t have time to earn all the necessary degrees companies like yours require to get my foot in the door. I had to take care of my family. I kept telling myself I’d get a chance to do it as soon as things calmed down. They never did.”

  We slow in front of a seven-story apartment complex on the East end of town and exit the car. “What are we doing here?”

  “Come on,” Max says, leading me into a building with an Edwardian hallway and walnut hardwood flooring. White wainscoting extends halfway up the walls and the rest is painted a soothing buttery cream. A staircase greets you at the foyer with a set of mailboxes next to it. There’s a console with artificial sunflowers in a vase and some magazines on it. Other than that, there’s not much else. It’s clean and quiet in a quaint neighborhood.

  Max flips through some keys and unlocks the door to a spacious four bed-room apartment. “The old tenant just moved out. I’ve got painters coming in Friday and then the floors will be stripped the week after that. It should be ready by the first of the month. Maybe sooner.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “For you to move your family in. That is, if you want it.”

  “What? Max, there’s no way I could afford a place like this.”

  “Well then I guess it’s a good thing you know the owner. I’ll cut you a break on rent. You tell me what you can afford, and we’ll work something out. Just don’t tell my other tenants.”

  “Are you serious? Why would you do this for me? You don’t even know me.”

  “Maybe not. But Edward likes you and Nyla likes you. Okay, well maybe she doesn’t like you right now, but I’m sure that’s just temporary. Besides, I saw how you were with the kids on Saturday. You can’t be too bad of a guy.”

  Any other time I’d be jumping all over this, not caring who I screwed over in the end. But I don’t want to do that now. “Max, I appreciate it, but this feels a lot like charity.”

  “Trust me, it’s not. Doing this will score me some major points with Jennifer. And Lord knows I need to stockpile those. But that’s not my only ulterior motive.”

  “Oh?”

  “I met with my investment team first thing this morning. Not one of them mentioned the Palladium mines. You have good instincts. That’s something that can’t be taught. With some guidance, I think you might have the makings of a top-notch investment banker. When you’re done with this project for Edward, I plan on hiring you in at an unreasonably low salary and teaching you how to make me a fortune.”

  “You want to hire me?”

  “I do. I know a diamond in the rough when I see it. Of course, it’d be on a trial basis at first. You’d have to produce. And don’t think I’d go easy on you because we’re friends now. Friendship is friendship and business is business. If anything, I’d expect you to work harder for me.”

  “I would.” I can’t believe it. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Having Max as a mentor? That’s a dream come true. I meander around checking out the rooms too stunned to speak. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll take it.”

  “I still don’t understand why you would do this.”

  His forehead wrinkles and he traces his thumb over a keychain shaped like a rose. “Not many people know this, but my youngest sister had cystic fibrosis.”

  “Had?”

  “She passed away awhile back. They hadn’t made the advancements in treatment that they have now. Anyway, while I was away at boarding school, she was going through hell. I hated myself for not being there, but my parents wouldn’t let me come home. She died while I was gone. At the time, I was too young to do anything about it. But I can do something now to make sure you don’t have to live with the same guilt I do.”

  Wow. Just wow. “You don’t know what this means to me. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Now that I know what you can do, I’m going to hold this cheap ass rent over your head and make you sign an NDA. I’d like to consult with you about a few projects I’m working on. I’m curious to see what you can do with them.” He hooks his arm around my neck. “Come on. Let’s figure out how you can fix things with Nyla.”

  SIXTEEN

  Resolve Conflicts Within the Team

  Max keeps me out of the office most of the day, afraid I’ll end up with an assault charge if he takes me back. We talk more business and have a late lunch together. He does his best to keep my mind occupied and I appreciate it.

  The sun is disappearing into the horizon giving way to the streetlights when he drops me off at the apartment, unaware he is leaving me with the exact person I was about to murder earlier. I can hear Sports Center blaring through the door letting me know Mike is home. The anger starts to bubble inside me again. With the way I’m feeling, there’s an excellent chance I could end up in jail and he could end up in the morgue.

  The door yanks open as soon as I turn the knob.

  “About time you got home. Beer?” Mike says, extending one to me like we’re just going to throw back a few and pretend nothing happened. I can’t do this right now. I’ve got to leave before I tear his fucking head off. He rolls on the couch and takes a pull from his bottle.

  “Jesus! Don’t tell me you’re still upset. Stop being such a drama queen. I mean that whole ‘you’re dead to me’ comment was a bit much, don’t you think? It was just a damn dog, Memphis.”

  I come inside, slamming the door behind me.

  “Just a damn dog? My mom and I picked him out together. You know how much Chewie meant to me.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry. It was like fifteen years ago. What do you want me to do about it now?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want you to do a damn thing.”

  “Listen, I was thinking about this whole situation with Nyla. Maybe neither of us needs to marry her. You know how you were on my ass to do more research? Well I did. Check this out. You’re gonna love it.”

  He spins his laptop around and shows me a picture from Saturday night of the six of us with my face covered by a prop. “Okay, I don’t know who this guy is,” he says, pointing to me before moving on to Alex. “… but you see her? That’s Lexa fucking Leigh. The actress. And that’s her boyfriend, Colin Caine. I knew I recognized them and not just from one of those stupid charity events. But that’s not the best part. See him? That’s Max Steele. The guy’s a billionaire. He works in the building. I didn’t know how to get to him or I would have targeted him first. But I think I’ve found an in. He’s that bitch Jen’s boyfriend. We could ask Nyla to make the introduction. If we run an investment scam . . .”

  “No.”

  “No? Memphis think about it. I bet we could get at least a couple hundred thousand from each of them. Maybe even a couple million. And Edward seems to have a hard-on for you. I bet he’d throw in too if you asked.”

  “I said, ‘no’.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because we’re not scamming Nyla’s friends and family.”

  Mike launches to his feet throwing his hands in the air. “That’s exactly what we’re doing! Or have you forgotten? What the hell is going on with you, Memphis?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit! You need to get your head in the fucking game.”

  “We’re already running a con. We’re not starting shit with someone else that could bite us in the ass. You
think Max wouldn’t vet the hell out of us before investing? What do you think he’d find if he started digging? Keep your nose clean and focus on the job.”

  “You’re telling me to focus on the job? You’re the one who’s had his head up his ass. We’re sitting on a fucking gold mine here, and you’re too much of a pussy to take advantage of it! The old Memphis would’ve seen that money on the table and come up with ten cons we could’ve run by now.”

  “Yeah, well maybe I’m not the old Memphis anymore.”

  He rubs the back of his head in frustration. “You act like these are good people, but they’re not. There’s no way you were around Angie without seeing all the tabloid rags she had lying around about Colin and the shit he’s been involved in. And do you really think Max Steele got to where he is at his age without pulling some shady shit too? His family was almost bankrupt and then poof! They go from that to billionaires?”

  I worry my lip between my teeth. I don’t want to hear this. Any of it. “We’ll talk about this later. I’ve got a date with Nyla. I just came here to change.”

  “You guys made up?” he asks, following me into the bedroom and leaning against the doorjamb while I switch into jeans and roll up the sleeves of my shirt.

  “No, that’s why I’m going over there. We were supposed to have dinner at her place tonight. But now, thanks to you, I’ve got to go there and beg her to forgive me.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I know you like her. I can see it. You’re different with her. The last time I saw you get like this about a woman—"

  “Don’t even fucking say it,” I warn. “This is different, and you know it.”

  “Is it?” He sighs. “Memphis, if you want to be the one to run the con, I won’t fight you. But you need to remember I picked her for a reason. She’s not a good person.”

  “I heard you. I have to go.” I push past him, but once again, he’s managed to worm his way inside my head.