Greed

by Summer Wynter

  Greed

  An Older Man, Younger Woman CEO Romance

  By

  Summer Wynter

  Copyright © 2017 by Summer Wynter

  Cover by: Amourisa Designs

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  I’m just your normal, everyday woman who can’t get enough out of life. When it comes to writing, I enjoy stories about couples who just can’t say no, even when life says that they should.

  Come get passionate with me and see where my dirty little mind can take you.

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/summerwynter2017/

  Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/cpQOpn

  Tiffany

  Young and struggling, Tiffany needs a helping hand to get the next tuition payment paid. Her father’s best friend, rich and powerful Linc Jared, knows of a way to fix that and get a taste of what he’s lusted for.

  Linc

  He knows she went searching for a sugar daddy to help with the tuition, and he’s not about to let another man touch her first. That is a thrill, and a privilege, only he gets to have. But things get sticky when he finds out she’s his best friend’s daughter.

  When Tiffany and Linc make a mutually beneficial arrangement, will it be so much more than Greed?

  Chapter One:

  “And my last paper is done!” Tiffany Maripat yelled triumphantly, neither noticing nor caring that she was alone in the room. After several all nighters and a whammy of a last exam the 21-year-old was a little delirious at the thought of freedom from the rigors of academia, if only for a little while. The semester had been a grueling one and the next promised more of the same; and Tiffany knew that if she was going to get into a decent grad school her GPA needed to stay where it was.

  “Why do you look so happy?” Her roommate and good friend Jo marched out from the bathroom, face already in flawless makeup. “Why does anyone look happy. Happiness should be outlawed. At least until after Friday when I to can burn my notes while dancing naked.”

  “You look amazing, Jo. I wish I could pull off a cat eye like that.” Tiffany beamed at her. Jo worked at the department store cosmetic counter and therefore knew everything there was to know about the latest makeup looks.

  “I wish I could pull of a 3.9 GPA like you. I’m barely off academic probation and if I don’t ace Friday’s exam I’m back on it.” Pulling on an all black outfit, Jo looked both sophisticated and womanly. Her full roster of classes on top of the two part time jobs she carried left her overwhelmed and exhausted. Tiffany always felt a little spoiled compared to her roommate. Her father paid all her bills leaving her unlimited time to devote to her studies.

  “Oh Jo, I’ll help you study tonight. Commerce right?”

  “Sadly you are right, and much as I’d like to take you up on that offer I’m at the pub tonight. I’m going to try and wake early so I can get some hours in the library tomorrow.” Weeks of burning the candle at both ends left her with dark circles under her eyes that not even her expertise with the concealer could hide. “Go now. Enjoy your freedom.”

  ****

  Clayton Maripat had been working on the spreadsheet for an hour already but no matter what he did it wasn’t coming out any differently. He was broke. Not ‘sell your house and head to the poorhouse broke’, but ‘you need to cut back and live within your means’ kind of broke. Living within his means had never been Clayton’s strength. He wasn’t a flashy designer car, luxury vacation kind of guy, but he enjoyed the good life in his own way; lovely meals out, a cottage in the woods to retreat to, and since his divorce a steady stream of nights out with lovely ladies. And this for awhile had been feasible, but with cutbacks Clayton had to take a slash to his pay last year. He hadn’t dealt with it until now, when bill collector’s messages were becoming more and more urgent.

  Tiffany, Clayton’s college daughter, and her education were a huge drain as well; something that would become even more pronounced if she got into the grad school of her dreams. Clayton was proud of her, he was, but he was also a little disappointed that she had broken up with Mike, her boyfriend, last year. Secretly he dreamed she would marry and set up a home of her own, relieving him of the responsibility of supporting her.

  With some sadness Clayton called the real estate agent; the cottage would have to go. That should pay back what he owed and put him in the black. Going forward things were going to have to change, Clayton resolved. No more steakhouse meals, no more long weekends in the Hamptons and Tiffany was going to have to start to help supporting herself. Twenty one years was long passed time to get a job. It would be good for her, Clayton reassured himself, give her a taste of real adult responsibility.

  “You can’t be serious?” Tiffany was three bites into her salad when her father dropped the state of the union on her. “A job? Do you know how hard I work to maintain my GPA? All the time. Do you know what will happen to my GPA if I don’t work all the time? Plummet, clash, fall, and all the work I’ve done in the past 3 years will have been for nothing. I’m going into final year Dad; this is when it really counts.” Her voice had risen throughout her monologue so now the wait staff in the corner were staring while trying not to.

  “Tiffany calm down. I’m not throwing you on the street or ripping up your diploma. I simply just can’t give the free ride you’ve had the past three years. Other kids your age are helping with the finances. Look at the waitress here, I bet she’s attending college too. It’s time you start shouldering your share.”

  “I know other kids are working but I also know that they aren’t getting 3.9 GPA’s. You know my roommate Jo, she’s run ragged and barely able to pass. What’s the point of going to college if you can’t learn anything because you’re to busy waiting tables? We had a deal Dad. I get straight A’s you pay my way.” She couldn’t understand why her father was doing this to her. Hadn’t she worked diligently the past three years? And now, just when she was getting all her ducks lined up for graduate school applications he drops this.

  “Listen kiddo I know we had a deal but things change. The long and the short of it is I can’t afford to pay for your room, board and tuition. I’ll do what I can but next year you’re going to have to work to support yourself.” Clayton signaled for the check, having barely touched his entrée. He had never felt like more of a failure and wanted more than anything to go home and pretend this day hadn’t happened.

  “Nice Dad. Good to know I can always count on you.” And with that Tiffany fled the restaurant, tears streaming through her face. This felt like more of a betrayal than when her parents divorced. At least then she knew she could depend on her parents, even if they were separated. Now she felt alone and helpless. How would she even get a job that could pay enough to support her and pay tuition?

  ****

  Linc Jared was trying to help his old friend, really he was. He felt poorly that the fates had treated the men, friends since their school days, so differently, but he was unsure what he was suppose to do about it. Clayton stared at the drink he was nursing at the bar, morose and churlish. This was not the night out that Linc had hoped for when he had agreed to meet his friend.

  ‘Cheer up old sport. You’ve been a solid provider for her entire life; that child had all the ballet lessons, horse camps and vacations she could ever want. All you’re doing is making her s
pread her wings a little, learn to fly. She’ll probably thank you in the long run.” Honestly Linc had no idea if this was true. His experience with college kids had ended with his own college days more than twenty years. But it sounded right, and for god’s sake he wanted to enjoy his evening before the morning came with it’s pressing responsibilities.

  “You didn’t see how she looked at me. It was worse than the time I ran over her bike when she was ten.” Clayton was too far into his sulk to be rescued by his friend’s words. “Thing is she’s right. She always listened to everything we told her, never broke the rules. Hell when she was in high school I was out late more than she was. That girl has always had her eye on the prize and I told her if she did her part I would do mine.” A healthy sip of the amber liquid in his cup did little to wash the bitter taste out of his mouth. “I let her down.”

  “Clayton that happens. You made a deal with our company, the one I run, that if you did your part we would keep paying you and we let you down. And why did we do that? Because the most of the clients that promised us a fair price for our products went out of business and the ones left could only pay us a fraction of what they owed us. We got let down too. That’s the way the world works and it’s sad but it’s time your daughter faces up to that hard truth. She’s 21 for god’s sake, not a child. She’ll learn some toughness and she’ll be the better for it.” He motioned for the bill from the bartender; his patience for this family drama suddenly spent.

  “Easy for you to say,” Clayton looked resentfully at his friend, who still in his suit from work looked every inch what he was, a successful man ageing well; comfortable in the boardroom yet still able to play basketball on the weekends and keep up with the players half his age. “Nothing ever gets to you, does it?”

  “That my friend is because I avoid all messy relationships and emotions. I lead a singularly superficial life based on having my needs met with the least possible drama. It is a lonely and isolated life,” Linc signed the bill with a flourish, “and I love it.”

  Chapter Two:

  “So are you going to join the working class? Tough break Tiff, really.” Jo had just gotten in from her day job and was taking off her makeup as she heard her room mate’s dilemma. With a cotton swabs she transformed herself from a sophisticated young woman back into a college kid. “I’d put in a word for you at the pub but T, not to be harsh or anything, but you are the klutziest person I have ever met. Ten minutes behind a bar and you’re likely to kill somebody.”

  “I know. How could he do this to me? If I knew that I would have to work through college I might have tried to develop some employable skills. House cleaning, window washing, and baby sitting. As it is I am totally and completely without any practical value.” She threw herself on her bed, fully prepared to spend the afternoon in a full on pity party.

  “Okay I get it. This isn’t what you wanted and you feel like shit. But T it is what it is. The only thing that matters is what you do know.”

  Tiffany looked up a Jo and suddenly realized that Jo, who she had always pitied a little and tried to help out when she could, was imminently more qualified at being an actual person in the world than she was. This revelation struck her to her core.

  “I don’t know Jo. Check the campus listings?” Beginning to realize that this wasn’t a problem that could be cured by a good sulk, Tiffany got out of bed. A compulsive list maker she reached for her notepad. “I can probably get a TA’ing position that will help towards to tuition.” She started to think through the possibilities, “In fact if I talk to my professor I may even get into his lab and then I can put it my applications.” Brightening she looked at Jo, happy to see some light.

  “Okay T that’s a start. But even if you get a large chunk of your tuition paid for you still need rent and food. And I looked into TA’ing and it takes time in the evening, which makes in hard to keep another job. Plus you need a 3.0 GPA or higher.”

  “Of course I’ll have a GPA higher than that. I’ve never had anything lower than a 3.5.” Tiffany looked shocked, unable to compute a universe where she wasn’t achieving at least B+’s.

  “Yeah but T you’ve always been able to put 100% in school. It’s not easy to get those kinds of grades when you can’t study because you need to put in your hours at work to pay the rent. You’re smart, but honestly so are a lot of us. You need the time to do the work to get grades like that. A job takes a lot of time.” Jo sounded tired now, and she was. The endless running and juggling to stay in school and fed was taking toil on her. Tiffany realized that she couldn’t do what Jo did. She wouldn’t be able to stay in school, much less excel.

  “So what then.” Dejected once more she looked at her list. “or maybe I could sell blood? My kidneys? My soul? My body” Half laughing, half crying she threw the notepad across the room.

  “Maybe not your soul. Tiffany what are you prepared to sell?”

  “Jesus Jo I was kidding. I’m not a hooker. Hell, I barely date.” It was true. Tiffany spent more of her time in the library then the campus bar. Jo couldn’t even remember the last time her roommate’s long blond hair wasn’t piled in a topknot. The girl barely wore lip gloss.

  “Okay I’m not talking about walking the streets here. But I have this friend who put her profile on this website. It’s got older, established men to connect to with younger women. Anyway she went to the best restaurants, a vacation to Italy and her rent paid. And T, she wasn’t half as pretty as you.”

  “You mean a sugar daddy.”

  “Call it what you want to, but it takes a whole lot less time than slinging pints at the bar. I mean why not put up a profile? Say summer only, and tuition as a minimum. It’s not like you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “Jo who would do that? I live in sweatpants last time I tweezed my eyebrows there was still snow on the ground.”

  “Yeah. I think I can help with that.” Jo appraised her friend. Tall for a woman, with legs that did not end. Slim with a tiny waist and C cups that were just a little to big for her frame, Tiffany was pretty despite herself. Typically clad in jeans or sweat pants, bare face with her nose in a book Jo was always amused about how clueless Tiff was about her affect on men. Reaching for her mammoth cosmetic bag she grinned. “I can totally help.”

  ****

  Linc was bored. Maybe a vacation in Italy? But the last time he went there he put on five pounds from the pasta and it was a real bitch to work off with his trainer. France? His French was awful. Plus, he had no one to travel with and Linc was in the mood for some companionship.

  His latest lady friend had sadly decided she wanted marriage and had promptly found it with another when Linc expressed his disinterest. She was like the majority of his companions; sophisticated, well traveled, well read. Women who could discuss literature and then reenacted the naughty bits in the sheets later. Linc always prized himself on his honesty; he was very frank with each of them about his non interest in a long term commitment and he like to think that the trysts he had with all of them were mutually enjoyable. Thing was, they became a little predictable after awhile. The same conversations, the same sex, the same ending. Linc was craving a little novelty.

  He had never looked online for a date before, being a little old fashioned and liking the discretion he could be assured of when dating within a certain circle. But, he thought, you do the same things you get the same results. A little buzzed from some after dinner drinks he picked up his laptop and started to type. Younger might be nice, a little vacation from his usual type. And short term; nothing that could drag on. Within a few searches he had narrowed in on a website that specialized in connecting the wealthy older man with younger and nubile women.

  “Hell, I’d be sugar daddy.” More amused than scandalized he scrolled through the profiles. Most of the faces looked a little too hard to him; eyes that were already calculating what exactly they could get. He didn’t want anything that could get messy. One face grabbed him; she was softer then the other. Her make
up, while artfully done, highlighted her freshness rather then going for the glamour. Her eyes, the same blue as his china plates, looked a little unsure about the entire thing. She had the legs of a dancer and filled out her sweater like a cheerleader. She was a change from his typical raven hair type. And while her terms were high they were clear, as was her timeline. It reassured Linc that she too wasn’t looking for anything long term. He poured himself another drink and started to write a reply.

  ****

  “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had, ever. Look at these replies! I don’t even know what most them are talking about. I’m not even sure what language they’re in.” Tiffany scrolled through paged of acronyms, lewd sexual overtures and acronyms for lewd sexual overtures. “I can’t do this.”

  “Well you can’t do that one; you’re not flexible enough.” Jo took over shifting through replies. Her styling of Tiffany had been fantastic, highlighting your youth and vitality rather than going for glamour. “We just need one solid hit here Tiff. One guy that doesn’t skive you out.” Ruthlessly going through the list a reply struck here. “Hey look at this guy. Totally a silver fox. Man, I’d date him for free.”

  “Let me see. He is hot, in a James bond kind of way. Bet he’s a total loser.” The girls both bent over the computer reading the reply.

  “Tiff he’s funny. Witty and dry, and he’s looking for something strictly summer as well. A vacation! I think we’ve found our winner.”

  “What do I do? How do I reply? I don’t know how to sound sexy.” Suddenly nervous Tiffany paced the apartment. This was becoming real entirely too fast.

  “Well I think if he’s looking for a younger woman he’s probably not aiming for super experienced and sultry. A guy like that has probably been with some super glamorous ladies. I say you do you, just the sexiest version of you. Fresh, and appealing, you know?”

  “You mean inexperienced and awkward? Awesome.” Tiffany sat at the computer and began to type.