The Penthouse Secrets: A NYC Billionaire Romance Trilogy Boxed Set

by Amanda Horton

  Yes. Yes. Yes. My heart pittered, then pattered.

  “If you need to, Mr. Kane,” I said coolly.

  “Great,” he said just as calmly. I tried to keep my eyes from his crotch but failed miserably, but didn’t see evidence of the raging erection that moments ago rubbed against my thigh. He flung his jacket over his arm though. “I’ll talk with you later, Miss Alexander.”

  He shot a smoldering glance over his shoulder, then straightened and talked casually with Tobias as if nothing untoward happened here in this office, my father’s place of business. As he left, I resisted the urge to squirm. I was on the brink of something I hadn’t had for a long time. In our own way, us ladies can get “blue balls” too.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to murder or fuck Cole Kane.

  But I stalked forward and locked my door. I couldn’t go through the day like this. I lay on the sofa and pulled up my skirt and touched the places that Cole’s hands roamed moments before. It wasn’t hard to get in the fantasy that it was Cole fingering me, making me soar. His musky scent was still in my nose, and the taste of his mouth lingered on mine, and it didn’t take long before I broke apart, stifling the urge to scream his name.

  It wasn’t the same as him doing it, but it took the edge off my need, one that I shouldn’t have had in the first place.

  I told Nadine to hold my calls while I went over the material the team put together for the Battle of the Bands. My email, in fact, had all of it. Some enterprising intern put each step in a dated spreadsheet, with links to the appropriate work. It was all very thorough which is why we paid people very well here. By the time I was ready to take a break, I had an excellent idea of how the project moved along. The venue was secured, the promos designed and the talk shows booked.

  By now I had convinced myself that my indiscretion with Cole Kane was a moment of foolishness that I would not repeat.

  I looked at my phone and saw it was past noon. With a guilty conscience, I remembered my father alone in the hospital. I should check up on him, and I called Anson to bring the car around. In the ten minutes it would take for Anson to bring the limo to the front, I called the project head, Susan Carter, a woman just a little older than myself who was way-too-smart for anyone’s good. If I weren’t the boss’s daughter, I’d worry for my job.

  “I’m on my way to see my father.”

  “Of course, Jacine. He should come first. Tell him we are all thinking about him."

  “I will. What venue did we book?”

  “We got the Hollywood Bowl,” she said enthusiastically.

  “Really?” It’s hard to impress me, but I’m calculating the bonus the woman should get for such a brilliant move. The Bowl was booked a year in advance, at least. “But how did we score that?”

  “We may have promised them half the profit of the gig.”

  I restrained a groan, but then we weren’t in it for the money anyway. Well, not the concert money. Our percentage of the entire deal would be big enough. I’m running numbers in my head.

  “Tell me you promised them net, not gross.”

  “Yes, Jacine. Net. All the way.”

  “Good.” Then we wouldn’t get suckered into paying the costs while the Bowl sopped up the greater part of the profits. “And how did we get so lucky?”

  “They had a hole in their slot because a band’s singer had to go to rehab.”

  “Wait. When is this miracle date?”

  “Three weeks from today.”

  I gnashed my teeth into my lip. That was an impossibly tight schedule.

  “Don’t worry,” said Susan. “I have the team working double time. Mock promo materials are hitting the printers as we speak for your approval.”

  “Okay, send me the images on my phone, and I’ll look at them.”

  “You got it.”

  “And the talk shows?”

  “That’s the best part. Because of everything that happened last night they can’t wait to get the boys on. I’ve got a slot on The Nyberg Show for tomorrow night. They want all three of them, though.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I tried calling, but Nadine wouldn’t let me through. So I sent an email.”

  “Okay,” I said. My mind spun into gear with my best pitches to get the Terrible Trio to man up and cooperate. “I’ll get them there. What time is taping?”

  “4 PM and they want them there at two for make-up.”

  “Got it.”

  As I slung my bag over my shoulder, I walked into the outer office. A beautiful vase of white roses sitting on the corner of Nadine’s desk caught my eye.

  “Secret admirer?” I said.

  “They aren’t mine. They are yours.”

  “What?”

  I pulled the card from the bouquet and found only one word inside.

  Ever it said.

  I swallowed hard. Cole must have sent them. What the hell was I going to do now?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jersey

  I owe Franklin Alexander. When Banshee folded, it was Franklin that encouraged me to go solo. He got me a manager and pointed me in the direction of some reliable contract players. With a handful of new songs, and his encouragement and PR mojo, I made my solo debut. So despite the hassle with security, the groupies and paparazzi, I decide to visit him after our little meeting with Ms. Take Charge.

  The last time I saw Jacine Alexander was at a pool party of her father’s mansion. She had just come home from college with a brand spanking new MBA, hence the shindig, and the excuse for Franklin to gather some of his biggest clients, one of them being my father, to celebrate his daughter’s milestone. Franklin strutted through that party as if he earned that degree himself. But the big secret is that Franklin, despite his veneer of education and culture didn’t make it past the eleventh grade. Only a precious few knew this, one of them being my father, one of Franklin’s first clients.

  In my very early twenties, I thought that Franklin was too “old” to handle the PR of a band of twenty-somethings, but I was wrong. In a town where your career could turn on the spread of a coke line, Franklin knew the right people to jingle, what buzz to spread. So when Jacine suggested her cheesy “battle of the bands” idea, I accepted it without question. She was at least as smart as her father, perhaps even more so. With her savvy looks and connections she could turn a fast food worker into an overnight sensation.

  I wasn’t prepared for what I saw in at the hospital though. First, the room was practically a jungle of floral arrangements of all shapes and sizes. But the bed and its occupant took center stage. Franklin, tied to tubes and monitors, and wearing a hospital gown, appeared old and worn out. It was a shock, and I had to take a step back and collect my thoughts before I entered. But when I did it was with the biggest smile I could pluck from my crippled heart.

  “Mr. Alexander, leave to it you to find the trendiest spas in LA.”

  “Dys, you dog. What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was thin and dry. When he coughed I poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table and handed it to him.

  “Checking up on you, since you have your daughter working like a slave.”

  Franklin scoffed. “Like I could stop her. The first thing she did was run out of here to take over my office.”

  “It’s your own fault she’s exactly like you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “When are you getting sprung?”

  “Probably tomorrow or the next day. They are still doing tests.”

  “Oh? Anything serious?”

  “More like they can’t find anything wrong and are running up the bill. I’ll be fine. And the sooner I’m out of here, the sooner I can get to work.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  The now familiar voice came from the doorway, where Jacine stood. Her red lips pursed in scathing disapproval. She strode toward his face and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You’ve been up to mischief, haven’t you?”

  “Oh,” she sa
id with a wry smile. “I only spent a million or two.”

  “In six hours? You’re slipping.”

  “New York makes you aware of costs.”

  “Tell me about it. The financial damage of your apartment is more than our house.”

  “Ssh, you. How are you feeling?”

  “Annoyed. Bored. I want to get out of here.”

  “I’ll see if I can find a nice nurse to give you a medicinal massage.”

  He cracked a lopsided smile. “You are kind and evil at the same time. Go. Get an old man something worthwhile to drink. I’m tired of water.”

  “Sorry, sir. We can’t order off the menu.”

  “What? Your father can’t get a cup of coffee?”

  “I see what this fine establishment has on tap. Be right back.”

  With fluid grace, Jacine walked toward the nurse’s station.

  “Damn,” sputtered Franklin. “She’s asking the nurses.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “Coffee is on the forbidden list for now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. The damned nutritionist visited this morning and gave me a list of foods I can and can’t eat during my so-called recovery.”

  “Care to share?”

  “You don’t want to know. Anything with flavor.”

  “Sounds rough.”

  “My own fault,” he said. “And it makes a man think, too, about mistakes.”

  “We all have regrets.”

  “Yes, but I may have made a big one with Jacine.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I pushed her too hard, instilled this stupid work ethic in her. She doesn’t have any fun. Doesn’t see anyone outside of work.”

  “Oh?”

  “What happens in twenty years when she’s put all of herself into the business and none into her personal life?”

  “And there’s no little Alexanders to keep grandpa busy?”

  He stared at me with surprise like I wouldn’t understand.

  “My own pops been pushing me to marry. I’m not stupid. It’s not because he wants a daughter-in-law.”

  “Yeah. Well, he’d have to haul his ass from Spain to enjoy a grandkid.”

  “He might make the trip.”

  “I’m going to ask you for a favor. I know you’re not the type of guy to settle down.”

  “Wait? Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “Shut up and listen. I want you to take Jacine out. Show her a good time. Let her start thinking about meeting someone.”

  “You want me to act as a teaser stallion to your daughter to get her to date?” I could not believe this.

  “Don’t make it sound awful. Show her a good time.”

  “A good time, as in—”

  He raised his hand. “I don’t need to know the details. And it doesn’t have to be anything serious. Jacine’s smart enough to know when someone is a keeper or not.”

  “Wow. Way to compliment someone into a favor.”

  “Damn it, Dys. Don’t tell me you aren’t too much into your own work to get serious about someone because in ten years I haven’t seen it.”

  That is very true. I worked like a dog. But here’s the thing. I’ve wanted to date Jacine Alexander since the first time I saw her. And, I was young and wasn't sure what I wanted except for a good time. But the day at that pool party to celebrate her graduation, I suddenly knew I wanted Jacine Alexander.

  Her bikini-clad form had played a prominent role in my sex fantasies for some years. If I didn’t have such full-on respect for Franklin Alexander, I would have asked her out. But among the things my father taught me was that you don’t mix business with pleasure.

  And now the man gave me permission to date her? No. He asked me to date her. As a favor.

  Should I pinch myself or slap myself in the face to see if I’m awake?

  “Okay, big talker,” said Jacine as she entered the room again. “Apparently you have a huge list of dietary restrictions for the time being, so no coffee for you.”

  “Busted,” I said quietly.

  Franklin shot me a scorching glance.

  “I can’t wait to get out of here so people won’t tell me what to do.”

  A knock on the door turned all heads toward it and, and the doctor walked in. He was tall, blond and looked anything but a doctor, but hey, this was LA. Tinseltown and Starland didn’t always serve up what you’d expect.

  “Hello, I’m Doctor Jones, a resident in Coronary Medicine. Dr. Alcord asked me to come speak to you about the test results.”

  “I should go,” I said.

  “No, Jersey. Stay,” said Franklin. “This shouldn’t take long, will it? I’m fine, and I can go home.”

  “No, actually, Mr. Alexander, we want to keep you here longer. We found a blockage in one of your arteries, and we want to fix that up.”

  “A blockage?” said Jacine. Her face turned white.

  “And you are?”

  “His daughter.”

  “The blockage is what caused the coronary incident. It’s not a total block, but I’m sure that Mr. Alexander, has been suffering from some shortness of breath.”

  “Dad?” said Jacine.

  “So I get a little winded.”

  “At your age, Mr. Alexander, you shouldn’t put off seeing the doctor. As you found out, a little thing can have big consequences.”

  Franklin scowled at the scolding he received from a man half his age.

  “What does it involve?”

  “It’s not a difficult procedure. We use a stent that we insert through the groin and place them at the site of the occlusion to open up the blockage. It’s a non-surgical procedure with fewer complications than open heart surgery. He’ll be able to go home the next day.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” said Franklin. The acid in his voice was enough to peel paint off the wall.

  “Sorry, Mr. Franklin. In any case, we are setting up the procedure for tomorrow. If all goes well, we’ll release you soon.”

  “Wait? Don’t I get a say in this?” grumbled Franklin.

  “No,” said Jacine. “I’m not having my father drop dead of a heart attack because he wants a cup of coffee. If my father gives you a hard time about signing documents, call me.” She pulled out a business card and handed it to the doctor. “I’ll have my father’s lawyer, who has power-of-attorney sign off on them.”

  “Traitor,” snapped Franklin.

  “Thank you, Miss Alexander.” He handed her a card. "If you have any questions, please feel free to call.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  He left as a woman in dark blue scrubs knocked on the door. “I’ve brought dinner for Mr. Franklin.”

  “I didn’t order that,” growled Franklin.

  “No,” said Jacine. “I did. You’ve been giving the nurses a hard time about eating. Oh, I got an earful about you at the desk, and if you keep being bad, I’m going to hire a nurse to follow you around the house during your recovery.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Yes. I will. Franklin and Wells have some big clients to care for, and I don’t want you alone in that big house.”

  “Ugh.” The nurse placed the tray in front of the patient.

  “What is this?” he said.

  “A nice Caesar Chicken Salad,” said Jacine.

  “There is nothing nice about this. Look at it. This is an appetizer, not dinner.”

  I sympathized with Franklin. Used to being in charge, having his daughter run herd on him must annoy him.

  “I’m tired,” he complained. “Come back later. I’m going to take a nap.”

  “Dad!”

  “What? Like half-wilted lettuce and overcooked chicken will go bad? Dys, get my daughter out of here. Take her to dinner or something.”

  Jacine sighed and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

  “I’ll be back later.”

  She walked out of the room, but before I could follow her, he grabbed my arm.

 
“Keep her busy, Dys.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jacine

  Jersey Dys walked behind me as I caught up with the doctor at the elevator.

  “Dr. Jones. I didn’t want to worry my father, but will he be all right?”

  “Certainly, Miss Alexander. We’ve made big advancements in Coronary medicine that past few decades. The imaging we performed on your father displayed a small problem that time would make worse. We are hitting this ahead of the curve which can only increase the odds for a good outcome.”

  “That sounds encouraging.”

  “It is. You and your boyfriend have nothing to worry about.”

  “Boyfriend?” she said, but the doctor’s phone rang and glanced at it.

  “Never a dull moment in the ICCU. If you have any questions, call me.”

  He ran off, and I puzzled over what he meant.

  “Boyfriend?” I said out loud.

  “He must have thought you and me are a thing,” Jersey said. He smiled a broad shit-eating grin at me.

  “You?”

  “Don’t look so offended. You might hurt my feelings.”

  “You have no feelings to hurt, except when it comes to Cole Kane and Rory Holmes.”

  “That’s a low blow. You are getting cranky like your old man. Are you hypoglycemic? Do I need to get some food into you?”

  He slipped his arm around my waist and pushed the call button for the elevator. Damn, he smelled good, like smoke, moss and fresh earth.

  “Hmm,” I said. “What is that cologne? I don’t recognize it.”

  “It’s from my new line of men’s grooming products.”

  “You? Diversify?”

  “My business manager, well, ex-business manager, thought it was a good idea. But he had a friend in the business, so it was synchronicity, you know?”

  More like his skanky business manager scored funding from Jersey for his friend’s business, which smacked of conflict of interest. Sometimes a big name can carry a grooming line, but not always. Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, and Taylor Swift suffered immense fails on their perfume and cologne lines to name a few. But I had to admit this scent was sexy.