Plain Jane and the Billionaire (Plain Jane Series)

by Tmonique Stephens

  Now Siedel was out of options and agreed to a meeting—as if Julius was the bottom of the barrel option. He didn’t take exception. Business was business, even if at the end of the day it was personal.

  He saw Joshua in a booth at the rear of the restaurant. White Yankees ball cap sideways on his head, matching white leather sleeveless shirt, shades, and a gold chain. His brother looked like a drug dealer. Furious at a possible betrayal, Julius stalked through the establishment to discover his brother wasn’t alone. Erica Bryn sat next to him, twirling a drink in her hand, all comfy and cozy. What the fuck have I walked into?

  “Greetings, Joshua…and Erica.” Julius snatched a chair from a nearby table and planted it in front of the booth. Jacket open, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, he made himself comfortable. “I’m here for Bertram Siedel. Where is he?”

  Erica smiled prettily and held up her empty hands. “Not here. Hopefully, he’s hard at work, slaving away, like I expect all my employees to do.”

  He nailed Joshua with a piercing glare. So much for saving the little shit’s ass. “Employee?” he gritted out, his temper about to blow.

  “He is now. I bought SDL. Siedel has agreed to stay on as CEO during the transition.” She lifted her drink and took a sip.

  She was an alluring package, had always been the few times they’d bumped into each other at charity functions and exclusive auctions. They were cordial. Ash blond with pale green eyes and a heart-shaped face. She was dainty, milked the fragile waif thing so many liked. One stiff wind and she’d take flight. She looked hungry and not in the metaphysical way. The woman needed a meal. Judging by the empty space in front of her, Julius wasn’t wrong. They didn’t run in the same circles; however, money attracted money.

  She preferred the influencer crowd while he preferred those with talent, and a brain. Not to besmirch her intelligence. She ran Bryn Conglomerate competently since the CEO, her father’s, decline. More than competently since she managed to get in Julius’ way and steal his prize…with Joshua’s help.

  Julius swallowed his fury. “And you, Joshua? Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to facilitate negotiations.”

  Julius didn’t have time for riddles. He rose.

  Joshua latched onto Julius’ arm. “Don’t go, bro.”

  “I have a proposition for you. A joint effort.” Erica rushed out, her hands dancing as she spoke.

  His brother’s plea to stay didn’t stop Julius. Erica’s nervousness and waving a carrot in his face did. A nervous CEO interested him. “What joint effort?”

  Her agitation vanished, as if she’d snared him in some trap. Gaze narrowed, he studied the two of them. Both were a bit too confident. A bit too cocky. Julius chalked it up to age and lack of adversity. Nothing halted time and adversity was inevitable.

  However, she’d piqued his interest. He resumed his position. “Five minutes. Go.”

  Erica got to the point. “I purchased SDL for the same reason you desired it. The prospects of developing untapped and underserved markets in Indonesia, Malaysia, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Thailand. It’s a shame Siedel couldn’t raise the capital. With the right investment, SDL could be a goldmine.”

  Joshua leaned forward, his face animated. “The dark web in those countries are vast. You shine a light and most will scatter, but if we get some of the big names to endorse—”

  Julius held up his hand to stop his eager brother. He wasn’t interested in a telecom company to get on the dark web. “Why am I here?”

  Erica hid her frustration behind a tight smile. “I bought the company with the expectation of having a partnership with Morgan International.”

  Joshua slumped in the booth. “Not only a business partnership.” He sulked. “Mom offered my hand in marriage.”

  What the hell?

  “Which was never on the table.” Erica hastily added, then amended with a sultry glance. “I’m not opposed to marriage…with the right Morgan.” She glanced at Joshua. “No offense.”

  Joshua shrugged and spat, “None taken. You’re too uptight, reminds me of my mother.”

  Amused, Julius interrupted, diverting the conversation from going sideways into the gutter. “I’m flattered, and not interested.”

  “In the merger or the marriage?” she quipped, green eyes flirty.

  “Marriage.” He shut her down. “The merger we can talk about.”

  And talk they did. Julius liked what she had to say. What she put on the table to negotiate with was less desirable, but that’s what negotiations were all about. He wanted to lock this proposed merger down, but first, he had pertinent questions.

  “Why are you doing this, Joshua? I need a concrete reason why you’re screwing your mother over like this.”

  Joshua fidgeted, all of his nineteen years showing when pinned down. “Like I told you in Vegas, I don’t hate my mother,” he finally said. “If I don’t do this, I’ll never be out from under her. And I can’t have you take over the company—which you will eventually do—leaving me with nothing. I don’t know why our father cut you out of the will, but I think he would’ve wanted his sons to run the company together. And I think you’d do a better job of it than my mother.”

  For the moment, the answer was good enough for Julius. Now it was time for some truths of his own. He wasn’t sure of Joshua’s sincerity; however, he wanted the mistrust between them to end, not fester. The invite to Vegas, the text about Siedel, both had been an olive branch. It was Julius’ turn to do the same.

  “Dad cut me out of the company because, at the time, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to be him. At the time, he was everything I despised. Plus, I hated Lynda, and by default, you.” He sighed, remembering those days. “Then he died.” And Lynda cut Julius off from everything she could’ve. Julius swallowed the bitterness crawling to the surface of his mind. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Let’s take this meeting someplace more comfortable. My yacht is only an hour away by helicopter. If things go well, we’ll call our attorneys and make it real. Agreed?”

  “I would love nothing more than being whisked away to your yacht, Julius.” Erica purred, then frowned sadly. “Unfortunately, I have other obligations.” She finished her drink and scooted to the edge of the booth, her movements elegant, meant to keep any and all attention squarely on her. “A raincheck?”

  “Of course.” Julius took her hand and helped her to her feet. She leaned into him, her scent as light as her body. She overplayed her hand and he wouldn’t stop her, until after the all the documents were signed and filed.

  With Joshua on his right and Erica on his lift, clinging to his arm, the three left the restaurant, Julius’ steps light, his spirits buoyed. Everything he wanted had fallen into his lap. All he had to do was not let anything fuck it up.

  Chapter 37

  The driver dropped her off in front of the townhouse with instructions to call when she was ready. She was ready right now, but her feet had other ideas and marched her up the stairs of the stately townhouse.

  A servant answered the door, and damn if that wasn’t a throwback to her childhood even though the uniform was black and white instead of the steel gray her mother wore. “I’m Calista Coleman. I’m here to see Mr. Bryn.”

  Blocking the entrance, the servant smiled politely. “Mr. Bryn isn’t accepting visitors.”

  “That’s alright, Helen. Ms. Coleman is welcome here.” The bodyguard made his way from the rear of the house, his footsteps hard on the marble foyer. The servant stepped aside and vanished as if she were never there. “I’m Errol, Ms. Coleman.” He held out his hand.

  She had no problem shaking it as she crossed the threshold. “Follow me.” He took the lead, retracing his steps from where he came.

  The place was opulent. Old money elegance. She hated it. “How long have you been Mr. Bryn’s bodyguard?”

  “Three years,” he said with pride in his voice.

  “That’s a long time. He must pay well and treat you right.” The
y passed a formal dining and living room.

  “He does pay well but that’s not why I’m here. He’s like a father to me.”

  Her steps faltered. Well damn. Is that what it took? A penis and a pair of balls. Which couldn’t be correct because Harvey had no problem loving Erica.

  Errol hadn’t missed her stumble. “Sorry if that upsets you. Mr. Bryn is a great man, and it upsets me to see him at the end of his life.”

  “You’re loyal to him.” Nice that Harvey could generate the devotion to someone other than himself and his youngest daughter. “I hope he appreciates it.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.” Errol smiled gravely.

  “Where’s his daughter?”

  Errol glanced at her. “His other daughter is away handling business. She’s been informed of his condition.”

  Interesting.

  A few more steps and they came upon a glass enclosure. Its sudden appearance startled her. On the other side, Harvey in a hospital bed with all the trappings of a private hospital room. They’d turned a solarium into a hospital suite, she realized viewing much of the same machines Julius had in his temporary hospital room/bedroom. He seemed asleep, his chest rising and falling at a regular interval. She’d read pancreatic cancer was painful. At least, he wasn’t currently suffering judging by the easy slumber. She didn’t think she could’ve witnessed that. Hating the man didn’t mean she wanted him in physical pain.

  A nurse exited the room. Older and radiating experience, she smiled at Calista. “Mr. Bryn will be glad to see you.” Her English heavily accented with a southern flare.

  “He’s not sleeping?”

  “No, he’s resting his eyes.” Sure enough, he reached for a nearby cup of water. His hand trembling, the lidded Styrofoam cup with a straw kept him from spilling the contents on himself.

  Heart racing, palms sweating, now that she was here, in the one place she never expected to be, Calista was far from certain about this. This being the man on the other side of the glass window.

  “You may enter,” the nurse said. “He’s expecting his daughter.”

  Not this daughter. This was a bad idea, yet that hadn’t stopped her. Donating twenty-three chromosomes didn’t mean she owed him anything. She didn’t ask to be born. However, she was here. Not for him, but for her. At the end of the day, he was the only parent that remembered her. Her mother’s memories had drained away as if flung into a black hole never to return. The loss was brutal until the pain tainted every memory in ways that only made them more precious.

  Yeah, Harvey remembered her, but not the person she was currently. He remembered the little girl that ran around the mansion in Westchester, jumping out of closets, and building forts out of the sofa cushions, her hand sticky, her face dirty. But she was happy living in the servants’ quarters because that’s all she knew. There wasn’t another reality, another life.

  Until he brought home Suzette.

  Calista pushed aside the bitterness and focused on the reason she was here. Mavis Coleman was gone. The mother who reared her with a loving hand had left. Her body remained, a husk of her former self while her mind slowly rotted.

  She didn’t have long, the doctors said. Which should’ve been a blessing, a blessing that had Calista bawling her eyes out. No one was prepared for the death of a beloved parent. Calista would never be ready.

  Now here she was, on foreign soil, about to see Harvey, the man her mother didn’t hate anymore because all she remembered was the love. It wasn’t fucking fair. But who was she to judge the old man when he was dying, just like her mother.

  Suddenly, Harvey’s head cranked her way, and their gazes locked on to each other. His eyes widened. Yeah, she was the last person he expected. That pleased her.

  Calista entered the room, which was surprisingly homey, much like the townhouse. From the inside, she’d never guess it was a hospital room. She focused on the furniture because she didn’t want to focus on him. At least, not yet. Not until she had no other choice, which was soon enough when he adjusted the bed, moving it into a seated position. He seemed smaller since their encounter in London. Withered and wrinkled, a husk. The room was well lit. Maybe it was her imagination, but she’d swear the Grim Reaper waited impatiently in a corner.

  “Errol said you weren’t coming.” His raspy voice was low and strained. He was in pain.

  “I’m here.”

  He pointed to a chair near the foot of the bed, making her believe someone had sat in it recently. Someone other than the nurse.

  “What changed your mind?” he asked when she sat, his voice a dry rasp.

  No use lying, she thought sitting gingerly on the edge of the seat, ready to go though she’d arrived minutes ago. “You’re dying. My mother is dying.” It’s now or never. Damn, she hated Laverne being right.

  “Pancreatic cancer is a one-way ticket.”

  All the money in the world couldn’t buy a cure. “How long have you had it?”

  “Five years. But I won’t make it to six.” He sighed, resigned to the eventual outcome.

  Not much to say after that. Not even a word of encouragement.

  “It’s unlikely it’s hereditary. You should be fine.”

  She hadn’t considered that yet felt guilty being relieved. “…You wanted me here for a reason.” What is it? She was antsy to get going and put this awkward visit behind her.

  He cleared his throat and broke their connection to stare out the window at the backyard. There wasn’t much to see other than the tops of a few trees and the cloudy sky. She suspected he wasn’t focused on either. “I’ve rehearsed this conversation for years. Now…”

  She could help and ease him into the conversation. Nope. This was his show and she was the audience. What he had to say, she’d let him without comment and be on her way.

  Harvey cleared his throat, squared his thin shoulders, and faced her. “I’ve made mistakes. The greatest was allowing you and Mavis to leave.”

  “Did you think my mother would stay?” Her no comment stance went out the window because he couldn’t be that dense.

  His cracked lips twisted into a wry grin. “Yes. I did. Clearly, I was in some sort of delusionary state.” He chuckled. “My new wife and my lover under the same roof. One big happy family. After Mavis left, I found her at her sister’s and offered to put her up in her own household.”

  Calista shifted in her seat, absorbed in a story she’d never heard.

  “She slapped me hard enough to loosen a few teeth.” He grimaced, then hung his head.

  Her mind conjured the scene and she almost laughed. Mavis wasn’t petite. Time had shrunk her a few inches, but her mother was a statuesque five feet eight inches with a model’s figure. A couple shades darker than a paper bag with regal features, Calista knew she didn’t measure up to her mother’s beauty. Though a certainty, her mother always made her feel like she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

  “She told me to never darken her doorstep again. And a few other choice words. To my shame, I listened. I bought her the house in Queens, made sure you were both taken care of, and went on with my life.”

  Forgetting about Calista.

  The stabbing pain in her chest was a surprise. She didn’t think anything he’d say would hurt, yet here she was hurting at his bedside because once again, she was a six-year-old little girl aching for her daddy.

  “Why did you have me?” she blurted.

  He seemed to wilt and melt into the bed. “I didn’t have you. Your mother did.”

  Her throat thickened, making the words stick. “You didn’t want me?”

  His chin had the decency to fall into his chest. When he finally raised his head, his milky eyes were damp. “No. I didn’t want to be a father.”

  “To a biracial child.”

  “…No.”

  Calista drew in a slow breath, blew it out in increments, and rose. She’d heard everything she needed.

  “It was coward. I thought it would be too hard.”
He rushed out.

  “For who? You or the six-year-old you dumped?” she murmured, choked on emotion.

  In a small voice, he said, “For me. All I cared about was me. I was so damn selfish and I couldn’t see it.”

  She had to ask. “See what?”

  “What a bastard I was. I didn’t see it until Jacqueline left me. Two marriages down the drain in eight years.”

  “It took Suzette and Jacqueline divorcing you to realize you were a pathetic slab of meat.” She gave him a standing ovation, her clap echoing in the room. “Wow. And still you ignored your oldest daughter, but not your youngest. Did you?”

  He swallowed. “After Jacqueline, I came to Queens. I saw you playing in that tiny backyard with your cousins. It was a month after your birthday, and I had my secretary buy you a gift. I didn’t even know what was in the wrapped box. Mavis saw me. I wasn’t hard to spot in a red Porsche. I tried to sweet talk her. She told me to kick bricks, amongst other things. I begged her to let me see you. She refused. Said she couldn’t trust me. I would ruin you. I couldn’t say she was wrong because I knew she was right. I was too late.”

  “I was fourteen. You think I didn’t know who you were? You think I didn’t research what I could about my father’s company,” she spat, furious at both her parents, which was pointless. A complete waste of energy, but the past had sunk its hooks into her and refused to let go. “For a while I even considered going into business to try and impress you. Then I saw a picture of you and your beautiful daughter Erica. It was her birthday and you had rented a circus for her. You even bought her a fucking pony. I almost dropped out of high school that year. Ninth grade dropout. Not on Mavis’ watch. She came to class with me for a week. I was humiliated.”

  That entire scene played in her head, and had her grinning. Then had her choking on a broken sob. Her mother was her anchor. The only anchor Calista had ever needed. Indomitable, irrepressible, reverent, a fucking badass. And now she didn’t recognize her daughter. She didn’t know her own self. She was withering away, much like the man in front of Calista.