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Her Older Alpha

Page 2

by Shanika Levene


  As his personal assistant navigated traffic, Jack put up the divider and sectioned himself off from his PA and bodyguard, and closed his eyes. He loved the sense of moving effortlessly towards his destination.

  He’d always had a private driver, since childhood, and the luxury never got old. He enjoyed driving too, especially his sports cars, but there was something about being chauffeured that made him feel like royalty. Which, of course, he practically was.

  He breathed in, taking in the scent of fresh smooth, new leather. He upgraded the Cadillac each year as soon as the new models came out, and his current about town car was only a month old. It gave him anonymity in the city, which was essential. It didn’t stand out, yet for a somewhat average car it was crafted well, and he always enjoyed his time in the back seat.

  The back was private, just the way he liked it. With the divider up, and the extremely tinted windows, he knew that no one could reach him. He settled into thoughts of the woman in the modeling agency.

  There was something about her… it wasn’t just her looks, which were more than pleasant on their own. She had smooth, dark skin. Her wavy black hair fell in soft layers around her heart-shaped face, and her bangs that fell before her large, almond shaped eyes.

  No, there was something more to her -- what was it? Her off-white outfit covered her body completely, a sight that he wasn’t used to in the modeling agency. This created a sense of curiosity in him; he couldn’t deny that a part of him wanted her to apply just so that he could see what she was covering over with that suit.

  But there was more.

  She was older, yes, that much was clear. The look in her eyes was... innocent.

  Indifferent to his presence.

  Unimpressed.

  He hadn’t seen that look in… well, years, if he was honest with himself. Usually when he looked into women’s eyes, he was met with an eager, jaded desire. Women usually looked at him pleadingly, desperately, often guised as seduction. He could see past their coy looks and attempts at seduction. He could see straight past it, into the part of them that wanted -- needed -- his attention. He was tired of it.

  This woman didn’t give him any of those looks. It was refreshing.

  She was older than the women he was used to seeing in that waiting room, and he found that he liked that. The new hires would trickle in quickly, some as soon as that evening. Something told him that if woman in the white suit was to come into the Lion’s Den at all, it wouldn’t be for several days.

  I’ll wait, he thought. She’ll come. They always do.

  He knew that it was hard for women to pass up a position at the exclusive Lion’s Den. They were paid handsomely, far more than any other membership clubs in the city. And they didn’t require experience; all women were trained once they came through the doors.

  All that was required of the women who were hired was that they possessed a quality that pleased specific members of the club who hired them. They would be placed throughout the clubhouse strategically, positioned so that they met his every need.

  His phone rang. He recognized the number of his social engagements manager, and picked up.

  “Pittman,” he said,

  “Jack, it’s about Jada. Sorry to bother you. She wants to get together, for dinner. Her people have been calling all day, and I’ve tried to put them off.”

  “Tell her no. It’s too public. Send roses. A dozen. And my apologies.”

  “She won’t be happy. She might talk to the press.”

  Jack shrugged. “Let her,” he said. “She already has. It’s over.”

  He had been careful with the young starlet, keeping her distant while enjoying a good fuck. But since the media leak last week, he’d stopped returning her calls. She was involved in the leak, he was sure. Her people probably arranged it as a PR stunt. The Lion’s Den had fired all of his staff, just to be sure that the leak didn’t come from within the Den walls.

  That was the reason for all of the all new hires. He found he was glad for the freshening up of the staff. Especially if the new woman came in to be trained. He felt the thrill of anticipation, and curiosity again. God, it was good to want something, but to have to wait.

  His staff member hung up, and the car pulled into a reserved spot near the rear of the 88 Broadway building. He checked his Cartier watch. Five fifteen. He was in time for a drink before his six o’clock meeting. A whiskey on the rocks sounded delightful. He stepped out onto the pavement, led by his bodyguard, feeling, as usually like he owned the world. Which, in a way, he did. A good portion of it at least. He smiled.

  Chapter 2

  "How did yesterday go? Did you get the job?" Gina asked.

  Hadley set her skim latte on the table, and then sat in the available metal café chair.

  "No," Hadley said. It was embarrassing to admit this to Gina, who had one time been Hadley's employee. "It was pretty awful. He took one look at me and said that I wasn't a good fit. I mean, I didn't even get to answer any questions."

  "Some interview," Gina said sarcastically, commiserating gamely with her heavy New York accent. "What an asshole." Gina had already ordered, and was sipping iced coffee. She looked more done up than usual, and that was saying a lot.

  She’s changed since working for me and Schuanne, thought Hadley, thinking back to the fresh college grad they’d hired. Now, Gina seemed to have an edge. After being cut from Wilder Marketing, she’d gone on to score a high paying marketing job for Millennium Starz, a prominent New York magazine.

  She was dressed to the nines, in a bright red vintage sundress, and painted her lips to match. Her strawberry blonde hair was swept to one side, and held in place with clip shaped like a peacock feather. A passing group of men turned their heads as they passed, and Gina smiled coyly. Hadley watched Gina fidget with her dress and then smile again as she took sip of her iced coffee.

  Hadley shrugged. "I guess he just knew what he wanted. And it wasn't me."

  This reminded her of how the rest of the afternoon had played out. And the reason she had asked Gina out for coffee in the first place.

  “But... you know something interesting did happen," she said, reaching for her purse. As she dug through it to find the card, she began talking. "This man came in, and walked around the waiting room handing out cards. I have no idea if it's legitimate, but one of the girls next to me said that the guy was the billionaire, Jack Pittman."

  Gina's perfectly painted red lips formed a circle as she gasped. "You're serious?" she gawked.

  "I'm not making it up. He did have an air of wealth about him..." Hadley’s voice trailed off as she thought again of his finely fitted suit, and the way he carried himself. "More than an air. But it could have been anybody. That was just what the girl next to me said."

  "Here," said Gina, reaching for her own bag. "I still have last week's Gossip Trender with me. They had a big spread about Pittman and that singer... what's her name... Locklove." Gina pulled a shiny magazine from her purse, and began flipping through it. "Is this... where is it? Here. Is this what he looked like?" she asked.

  Gina held the magazine out to Hadley, and Hadley took it.

  The double page spread had large print across the top that read: ‘Pittman and Locklove: Locked in Love?’ Below it were blurry pictures of the two.

  There were pictures of the two kissing, shot through what looked like a windshield of some red sports car. One showed Locklove in a bikini, and Pittman standing behind her, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, his tanned, muscular arms wrapped around her torso. They appeared to be on a beach.

  Many more photos of the man and blonde singer kissing and touching fanned across the page, and she scanned them. Finally, she saw one that was in clear focus, and showed Pittman's face, close up.

  Hadley leaned down, taking in the photograph. The magazine started to skid across the wrought iron table as a breeze floated by, and Hadley had to put her hand out and stop it from sliding. Her hand landed on the photo, and she moved her finger across
his jawline.

  Yes, she thought. This is the man I saw. In the photo he was in a similarly styled suit, and she recognized the way his tall frame filled out the fitted cut, and how it was unbuttoned around the collar.

  She recognized the trimmed facial hair, the golden skin. The sharp, focused gaze that stared out of the magazine pages was most unmistakably his. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw how handsome he was without the hat pulled low over his face.

  After a moment she felt able to speak. "That's him," she said. "That is most definitely him."

  "And Jada Locklove," Gina said. "Lucky bitch."

  "Maybe they're perfect together," Hadley said. "Who knows. I don't. But I do know that he is the man I saw. He is the man who handed me this card."

  She passed the card over the Gina, and watched her examine it.

  "This is for the Lion's Den. God damn. You got recruited to work at the Lion's Den," Gina said, her voice a mixture of incredulous disbelief and awe.

  "Not as a marketer, I'm sure," Hadley said.

  Gina was quiet, thinking.

  Hadley took a sip of her skim latte.

  Though it was ten a.m., and the sun was starting to heat the city considerably, it felt good to drink the hot liquid.

  Gina had confirmed what she'd started to doubt herself: that the man was indeed a known billionaire.

  What would it feel like to have so much money? she wondered wistfully. After paying her parking tickets and fines yesterday, she had barely enough to make it to the end of the month. The latte was a splurge.

  And soon, the bank would take her house.

  This thought floated in like a massive raincloud, and she resolutely pushed it back. She’d spent months arguing with the bank, calling creditor after creditor; trying to do anything she could to save the house she lived in.

  It was beautiful, right on the edge of the city, in one of the last truly green neighborhoods you could find still within commuting distance. It was home. The banks had refused to give her a break, and said that unless she made significant payments -- to the tune of $10,000 by the end of August -- they’d foreclose on the house on the last day September.

  Maybe there's something else... something I've been missing. I can't have applied to every marketing position open in all of New York City. Maybe Gina knows of something, she thought.

  Hadley opened her mouth and was about to ask Gina if Millennium Starz was hiring, when Gina beat her to it.

  "You know, Hadley... I'm just thinking out loud here... you could really have something. You know my boss, at Millennium?"

  Hadley nodded. She'd heard Gina talk about her new boss for the past three years, since Gina had left Wilder Marketing and had gone to work for the magazine.

  Gina continued. "He went crazy about the Gossip Trender shoot. The one of Pittman and Locklove? Our sales last week plummeted when that one came out. I mean, we tanked. All of the upper guys at Millennium are saying that's what we need -- something on the city's wealthiest people. Like Jack Pittman. This..." She held up the card, and waggled it over the table. "This could be your ticket."

  "Ticket to what?"

  "Ticket to working at Millennium. I mean, I know it would be good for you. If you signed a contract to do marketing with Millennium, other companies around the city would have to take notice. It could get you rolling again; stir up some business."

  "I'm not following. How is working at Lion's Den going to get me in at Millennium?"

  Gina sighed, as if Hadley was being absurdly slow. "My boss is drooling over getting the scoop on the Lion's Den clientele. Say you were to get a story -- you know some insider pictures; something the public would want to see -- I am sure my boss would be happy to have that connection with you. I bet he'd want to keep doing business with you, in return. Our numbers would be back on track, and you'd have an in with Millennium. Your business could pick up again. It's a win-win."

  Hadley frowned. She thought of all of the models snapping photos the afternoon before. "I'm sure people have seen it all," she said. "What could I get that would be so valuable? What would make it insider...?"

  "Pittman's very private," Gina said. "Everything around him is high security. These photos were taken by someone on Locklove's staff, most likely, and leaked as a publicity stunt. It looks good for her. And still, they're not that great."

  Gina reached across the table, spinning the spread towards her. "They're all grainy. No details. Someone was far away when these were shot. But you... if you worked for him you'd have inside access. The photos would be gold."

  "Inside access?"

  "You know, to his car, the club... who knows what you could get. Here," she said. "I was going to give this to one of the Millennium reporters this afternoon. It just came in the mail this morning." Gina took a small box from her purse, and pushed it across the table.

  Hadley picked it up, and started reading the information written on the front. "A camera the size of a button," she read out loud. "No lights, wireless, with an adhesive back. Sticks on anything. Access photos from your laptop."

  Gina nodded. "You could stick it to something... like his car. Then sit back and wait for the money shots. Send them to me, and I'll get you a meeting with my boss. I promise you that he wouldn't disappoint you."

  Hadley lifted the box from the table. It was light, yet it made her feel weighed down once it was in her hands. "Gina, this isn't the way I taught you to do business," she said.

  "You're right," Gina said. "But look at your situation. You're losing all your clients. You're falling behind. You may have been my first mentor, but I've had many more in the last three years. I'm learning how to run with the pack -- and not get trampled."

  "You think I am getting trampled?"

  "You and Schuanne used to be a good team. You were the brains, and she was the brawn. But now, you have to start being the brawn too, don't you?" Gina asked.

  Hadley took a deep breath through her nose. She let one hand travel up to her hair, and she passed her fingertips through it as she thought.

  Gina sighed, and spoke again as though she was talking to a child, even though she was several years younger than Hadley. "Everyone else does stuff like this, Hadley. You have so many god damn morals. You're going to have to let some of them slide."

  Hadley felt the gold watch around her wrist slip down towards her palm as she placed her hand back on the box. No matter what she did, time kept on passing. She couldn't make it stand still. She couldn't go back. She watched the golden secondhand move smoothly around the shining disk. It seemed to be moving steadily forward towards the deadlines the bank had given her, prompting her to take action. "It's now or never," her watch seemed to say.

  Hadley picked up the camera and put it into her purse. "All right," she said. "I'll try."

  Gina’s red lips hooked upwards in a sly grin. "Perfect," she purred, clapping her hands.

  Hadley frowned and went back to looking at the magazine spread before her. "What do you know about him?" she asked. "Or Lion's Den?"

  "There's not a lot out about Pittman. He's much more private than other A-listers. He doesn't let the press get near him, so I have no idea what his story is. He has many houses, I’m sure, but they’re all in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely no access. When he’s out in public, he stays inconspicuous. This is really rare," she said, pointing to the photos. "That's why people went so gaga over it."

  "Where does his money come from?" Hadley asked. She looked over the images, taking in the way he kissed Dutch singer. He held her chin, in one shot, and kissed her as if he was simply taking a bite of fruit or sip of liquor; his face looked almost emotionless. She thought back to the way he had looked at her, with intense, analytical eyes. She wondered briefly what it would feel like to be kissed like that.

  "I read somewhere that he grew up with money. He does something in business... I think last I heard he owned tons of successful companies and was consulting with some big names on the side. He keeps everyt
hing under wraps.”

  “What about the Lion’s Den? Have you been into it?”

  Gina scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You don’t just pop into one of these places, Hadley. They’re new. I’ve heard that L.A. has one, Boston, Austin, Denver, and that a few have started popping up internationally. Australia, Chile, and the Philippines. No one goes in uninvited. The staff is paid to be loyal. Security’s tight.”

  Gina handed the business card back to Hadley.

  Hadley put it into her purse, “Thanks, Gina.” she said. “I think I was at the right place, at the right time. I want to make sure that I take the opportunity and run with it.”

  “Get your running shoes on, girl.” said Gina, standing. “Because it might be a wild ride. Nothing that a Wilder sister can’t handle, right?”

  “I’m the less-wild of the two of us,” Hadley said. The joke was so familiar that it simply tumbled out, even though Schuanne had been gone for five years now. She bit her lip. “I was…” she corrected herself. Gina didn’t even seem to notice. She was putting the magazine back into her purse and checking her phone.

  “Oh, damn it. I missed a ton of calls. Well, great to see you!” Gina said in a fake singsong voice. As she gave Hadley a quickie air hug Hadley couldn’t help but notice how much Gina had changed over the past three years.

  Hadley wondered if that was really what it took. Was she being trampled by the herd, as Gina ran at the front of the pack? It certainly felt like that these days.

  For the rest of the day, Hadley spent some time in the city, meeting with old contacts and trying desperately to stir up some business.

  This thing with the Lion’s Den is a last resort, she told herself. I’ll find some honest work first, work that I enjoy, that I’m good at, that I’m trained for.

  But no one wanted her services, and when she returned home she felt the familiar sense of exhaustion that accompanied rejection. She pulled her car into the garage, remembering the first time she had done so, in her late twenties. She’d felt on top of the world, when she bought the house. The Destiny’s Child track “Independent Woman” had been her anthem, and she had felt so unstoppable as she climbed the ladder to success.

 

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