Playboy Heir

by Brandy Munroe

  "Was she flexible?" was all that came out of Richard's mouth.

  "What the hell, Richard," I blurted, nearly spitting my food in his face.

  "She wasn't just a cheerleader, Aleksander, she was the cheerleader. You screwed every teenage boy's wet dream. What did you think I was going to say? Hell, if I had known before I totally embarrassed myself, I would have banged her brains out."

  From Richard's mouth came the very words that caused her to tense in my arms. She said she was okay with it, but her actions gave her away.

  "Richard, what the hell? What happened to 'little sister'?" I was stunned at my friend's obsession.

  "I said, would have,” he snickered. “ You've already crossed that bridge and I'm staying clear of it."

  I knew Richard had a healthy sexual appetite but there was something wrong with the words coming out of his mouth. If it were any other man I would have pommeled him by now. What happened with Haley was far beyond sex but I didn't think that Richard would understand that.

  "You still didn't answer my question," Richard continued. "So, was your cheerleader flexible?"

  "This conversation is over and not up for discussion. Let's get out of here and blow them away at this convention," I commanded.

  "Oh, someone definitely got blowed," Richard snickered.

  I grabbed my suit jacket and walked out, assuming my partner was following not far behind.

  Richard and I got there in plenty of time to check in with the setup crew, verify they were going to have a full house, and took take their seat at the Oblivious showing.

  As the Oblivious representative headed to the podium he stopped and acknowledged patrons in his path. He stepped up, excited to get the slideshow going. He was directly to the point, no buildup, no showmanship, just a large picture of blueprints of a shoe on the giant movie screen for the entire audience to see. For me to see.

  My shoe, my design, my plan. After a couple of seconds he began, "I give you the next big thing in men's comfort." Every other word out of his mouth was a blur. I was so angry I was vibrating.

  Richard was too involved with the presentation to notice. Finally I registered a question being asked. "What is it called?" a lady standing from her chair, microphone in hand, requested.

  "Media," I snorted.

  "What's up, you look pissed?" Richard lightheartedly drawled out.

  "Shh," was all I said.

  A young representative joined the gentleman on stage. "We haven't given it a name," she iterates. "We are going to let the public choose one for us."

  At this point my jaw was clenched. I felt the heat turn my face red, my eyes burning a hole through the people on stage.

  "What's up?" Richard repeated, this time with more concern and authority.

  "I have to get out of here," I resonated as I got up to leave. Just as I reached the door I heard, "We don't have the patent on the shank, it's still in the working stages. That's why we only have a planogram of what's to come and not the actual product as of yet."

  Then the answer I wanted to hear, "Who is the designer?" I stopped short of the door, spun around and this time I was listening, carefully, attentively.

  "The designer wishes to remain anonymous until the finished product hits the market."

  "Anonymous, anonymous," I just kept repeating it over and over in the men's room where Richard dragged me. "Of course she wants to remain anonymous."

  "Aleksander, calm down," Richard urged. "Tell me what's going on. The last time I saw you with this much rage was…" He paused, "After Ashley."

  I splashed cold water on my face, wiped it off, stood straight, looked at Richard and announced, "We have a show of our own to put on so let's get at it." With that I left the men's room and headed for the hall that held the Van de Graaf presentation.

  I knew Richard had followed, not sure what to expect. Many of the same patrons that had been at the Oblivious show were seated waiting for us, waiting for me. The CEO of Oblivious was sitting front and centre.

  Why wouldn't he? I fumed. He was taking my original design and using it to compete with Van de Graaf's Boardroom and Beyond. I got on stage and ran the slides explaining the expansion, how our focus was to continue our reputation for that personalized one on one service.

  Everything went exactly as planned except at the end when I knew Richard was expecting the big reveal.

  I casually leaned over the podium, put on my best panty-melting glare, and in my most soft, seductive voice announced, "Unlike our previous presenter," and I gestured to the Oblivious team, "we don't come here today with drawings of what we might be able to do. We have our men's exclusive Boardroom and Beyond. What all our designers have been tirelessly working on is an affordable, comfortable version of our Boardroom and Beyond."

  Then I pop up a picture of the The Upstairs sign and then raised my voice. "When we open The Upstairs it will be a place where any man can shop and get that personal Van de Graaf experience and still have enough money left over for a little something for the wife."

  I pull out a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of Champagne from under the podium and presents them to the wife of the Oblivious CEO.

  The room erupted with applause as I returned to my seat.

  "You did exactly what you set out to do, but what was the big reveal? There was showmanship at the end, but nothing to translate into the excitement you and Haley had been eluding to," Richard asked in confusion.

  ”There’s no need for a Q and A, everything was self explanatory. I need to get out of here." I didn’t care that my tone was disgruntled, my mood dark.

  I arranged for the flowers and Champagne to be hidden for me to present to Haley after I thanked her for her contributions. I forgot to cancel them after she left. No matter, I made better use of them anyway.

  The ride back to the suite was eerily quiet. We entered the suite and I walked to the kitchen counter, opened my computer, inserted a thumb drive, and hit a few buttons. I reached into the cupboard then went to the bar and grabbed a bottle of twelve year old Scotch. I poured Richard and myself each a double.

  I pointed to the seat in front of the computer. "Sit," I demanded. It was the first time I had spoken since we left the convention centre.

  Richard sat, I handed him the glass. "Drink this," I ordered. We both downed the fiery amber liquid then I poured us each another.

  "Watch this." I hit the play button and there on the screen was me explaining the exact same concept we had just witnessed at the Oblivious showing.

  Richard played it again, then he looked up at me, shocked. "You're the anonymous designer?"

  "No, I'm the anonymous fool who got taken in, again."

  "They stole your design? How? When? I'm having a hard time processing this. How many people knew about this?"

  "Me… and Haley," I spat out the name and bile rose in my throat of having to mention it.

  "Are you sure?" Richard pressed.

  "Richard, you know we did everything behind closed doors, you didn't even know what was going on."

  "Can they do this?" Richard pointed to the shank portion of the design.

  I tossed back another drink. "I doubt it," I sneered, then went to the computer and hit a few more buttons. There on the screen was the patent for this new revolutionary shank that was going to change the world of men's shoes.

  A patent owned by Aleksander Manos. Then I hit more buttons on my computer and up popped a patent for the polymer that made that newly designed shank, also under the name of Aleksander Manos.

  "They belong to you," Richard spoke. "Did Haley know that little tidbit of information as well?"

  "Not exactly, she only knew I had the exclusive on it, not all the complete details. Not that I had already had it patented," I revealed.

  "She sold them a design she knew they were not going to be able to replicate?" Richard gawked. "This is not the Haley I know," Richard defended. "It's always been a professional relationship, but I never would have thought her a vindictive maste
rmind that would sell us out. She could have done that years ago working in The Boutique. She had access to new designs all the time. Why now, why this design, why to you, Aleksander?"

  I threw the glass across the room. It shattered and the pieces flew everywhere, making us duck to avoid the spatter.

  "You're defending her? You're fucking defending her," I screamed as I took another glass, filled it and gulped it down, letting the slow burn seep into my blood. The way she had seeped into my blood.

  "Oh Christ, Aleksander, last night wasn't the first time, was it? Don't bother to answer, the look on your face tells me everything," Richard fumed. "You let that uptight soccer mom get under your skin, and now you think she burned you. I know only one way to to deal with this at the moment."

  Richard walked to the bar and reached for another bottle of Scotch, walked to the kitchen, and placed it in front of me. "Tonight, we deal with this like men," he said as he filled both glasses. "Tomorrow, we figure out what to do with your personal assistant."

  Chapter 28

  Haley

  I was not sure how much sleep I managed to get. I had not left the hospital since I arrived, not even to go home and shower or change. I couldn’t leave Peyton's bedside. The doctor had given him a broad spectrum antibiotic hoping it would have some effect, but it did not. Whatever Peyton had was not something the hospital had not dealt with before.

  Annette had been with Uncle Charlie when they brought Peyton in. She was checking in on the boys liked she promised when she saw that the young boy was not his usual active self.

  Uncle Charlie admitted that he believed Peyton might have a slight fever, perhaps a cold from not wanting to put his jacket on after school. It had been an unseasonably hot day and Uncle Charlie thought it would be fine.

  Annette was concerned it was something more. She said she had seen this before and was sure it was more than just a cold and insisted Uncle Charlie take Peyton to the hospital. I would have to remember to thank the woman. Her observation may have saved my son's life.

  When the doctor arrived, I was informed he had done some tests and sent some of Peyton's blood to a lab for analysis. What Peyton had was some sort of virus that they had not seen before.

  They asked if Peyton had come in contact with anyone who had been out of the country lately. I could not think of anyone but decided I would call everyone I knew to be sure. Not knowing what they were dealing with, their main concern was they might have an epidemic on their hands.

  The medication they were giving Peyton was keeping him from getting worse but it was not making him any better. The fear was that at some point the antibiotics would no longer work. They needed to find out what this was and soon.

  I let them take blood and swabs to eliminate me as a carrier. They had me call Uncle Charlie and Annette to volunteer to do the same. Peyton had been put in isolation. I was given a gown, mask and gloves and told to wait in another room. They would come get me once I could return to my son.

  I was also worried that as long as Peyton was sick I would not be able to perform the duties of my new job. I had my tablet and cell with me. I had hoped to filter through some of the contest entries as soon as they started arriving.

  I was sure my phone would be constantly pinging with updates by now. The big reveal would have taken place and the announcement about the contest would have been completed.

  Why wasn't I getting any hits? It didn't make sense. My main concern had to be with my son rather than my job at this moment. It was never far from my mind either; I needed this job for stability, the pay check that came with this job, the health insurance as part of the benefits that came with it.

  I had a lot of time to think sitting in that hospital room. I started with the obvious and called Leona and let her know what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours and ask if she had come in contact with anyone out of the country.

  It made sense to call her first. Her boyfriend was in the Navy and there were times she never knew where he was or had been. I was relieved to know that she had not seen him since the weekend of the first soccer game.

  Next call was to the school secretary. She could check if any of Peyton’s classmates parents were out of the country recently. She would have access to the school's records, even on the weekend. The school secretary should be known as the gossip queen. She knew who was away, who had no money to even think about going away, and whose parents worked out of town.

  It was looking like I wasn't going to get my answer from them. No one fit the bill, and I didn’t want to panic, but I was getting really worried.

  Uncle Charlie arrived with some food and coffee and offered to stay with Peyton so I could go home get a shower and change. Annette arrived almost at the same time. She had also brought food and coffee and was there to make the same offer to sit with Peyton.

  I spent enough time with Annette to know her children lived abroad. I inquired if they had come for a visit to see her new home.

  I also asked if they had taken the time to check in with the nurse for the blood test and swabs. Uncle Charlie turned pale.

  "Peyton is sick because he got something from coming in contact with someone who has been out of the country. Because of how this thing is progressing, he would have caught it probably Friday," he exclaimed.

  "Yes," I sadly confirmed, "and I am running out of ideas on who to call."

  That was when Uncle Charlie piped up, "Brad is back in town and he came around Friday looking for you. He was upset about something he read in the papers and saw it when he got home." Then Uncle Charlie put his head down. "He showed up at school and Peyton ran to him and hugged him. It was so brief, but we don't know where Brad has been, just that he was away. Oh, Haley, if this is my fault," Uncle Charlie began to cry.

  I hugged him and reassured him there was no way to know if this had anything to do with Brad. “I would never be upset with you for letting Peyton see his dad. If Brad is back then I should call him and let him know his son is in the hospital.”

  I tried Brad's cell and had to leave a message asking him to call me. I let him know Peyton was in the hospital and that he should come by as soon as possible.

  I decided a shower and a change of clothes would be a great idea and took Uncle Charlie up on his invitation to sit with Peyton.

  I was gone so briefly that Uncle Charlie wondered if I even had time to take a shower. "You need some sleep, Haley," he frowned. I registered the concern on his face.

  "Don't worry," I hugged him tightly. It was nice having the support, especially at times like these. "They brought me in a cot and I got plenty of sleep. It's just really hard to sit here helpless to do anything for him," I confessed as I ran my fingers through Peyton's hair.

  Here was my baby, lying in a hospital bed and there was nothing I could do. I began to feel defeated until I heard a commotion in the hallway. Someone was screaming for me to the point it made the hairs on the back of my head stand on end.

  I recognized that voice. That loud, angry, bitter-filled voice. Hurricane Brad had arrived and with him some young blonde hair, blue eyed child wearing a cheerleaders uniform. Not just any cheerleader uniform, a Tranquility Falcons cheerleaders uniform.

  I could not imagine that Brad would actually be dating a younger version of myself. A barely legal version of my old self. This was not happening; not here, not now.

  A nurse arrived and was very forceful to the fact that he was in a hospital and he needed to keep his voice down. I was sure he was upset because it took me so long to let him know about Peyton. I had not considered that he was back until Uncle Charlie told me. I knew I had to approach him with a calm demeanour or this encounter would turn ugly.

  "I am sorry I didn't call you sooner, Brad. I had no idea you were back until Uncle Charlie told me. I should have called you sooner and let you know about Peyton. They say he contacted some virus from someone who was out of the country and would have come in contact with it a couple of days ago."

  "You try
ing to blame me for this," he stammered.

  "There no blame here, Brad," I soothe. "They just want to test everyone who has been in contact with Peyton since Friday to rule everyone out, that's all."

  "You think that's why I am here?" he asserted. "This is why I am here, Haley," he informed me as he showed me the old article about Aleksander and I from the soccer game.

  It occurred to me that he had been away but his family wasn't and they would have shown him this article to wind him up. I truly believed his sister fed his anger, keeping him on edge because of her resentment towards him after their father signed half the business to Brad, even though Brad put no effort or time into being there.

  It was Brad’s father’s dream to have Brad take over the shop. His father only let him play football if he contributed equal time in the family business. It was never Brad’s dream. That did not stop his father from naming Brad equal partner with his sister when he finally retired. As the perfect trophy wife, I had blindly supported my husband.

  That blind support had blown up in my face. Now with everything going on, it was time I blew up in Brad’s face.

  "Seriously, Brad, your son is in a hospital bed dying and you're worried about something some gossip magazine made up?" I poked my finger into his chest and uncharacteristically shouted at him. "Take the blood test, Brad, and since you have no other use here, get out of my face."

  He grabbed my arm and Uncle Charlie got up and intervened. "There's no need for that now, son," as he gently guided Brad to the nurse's station and cajoled him into giving his blood for the necessary analysis to narrow down the virus that might be attacking Peyton's immune system.

  After he had his blood drawn, I felt embarrassed about my blowup. I asked everyone if I could have a moment alone with Brad. Everyone left the room and I proceeded with my apology.

  "I'm sorry I lost my temper. This is an old photo, and since you left I have been promoted to Aleksander's personal assistant. It was my job to be there and make sure his charity work got put in the paper."