by Ellie Danes
“I know, man. But for everything we've achieved, for all the stuff we own and the riches we've accumulated, I sometimes miss those days when we had nothing. Life was so much simpler then.” I thought with a pang of Samantha, my swimsuit model ex-girlfriend. If she hadn’t known about my business, maybe things would have worked out between us. No, she probably would have shown her true colors after a while either way.
Matthew took a drink of his beer and nodded. “I miss those days too, sometimes.”
We both sat in silence, sipping our beer. Matthew checked his phone after a while and sighed.
“It's getting really late,” he said. “And you have that meeting to prepare for.”
I nodded. “I do, yeah. We'd better get to bed.”
“I might go out and hit the Vintage Club,” he said, referring to the hot spot three blocks away where gentlemen could have a bit of discreet fun.”
“You’re calling a cab or walking, right?” I said.
“I can drive,” he said. “I feel fine.”
“No way. You've had what, six? Seven? Yeah, seven beers, I believe. You're in no state to drive, especially not a sports car. Take a cab, all right?”
“Okay, okay,” he grumbled.
We stood up and took one last look out over the city. Then, as we turned to go inside, I stopped and gave him a quick hug. “You're my best friend, man,” I said. “And if you ever need anything, I'm here for you. Don't ever forget that.”
“The same goes for you, Jace,” he said. “And thank you for tonight. I needed it.”
“So did I.”
* * * * *
I woke up with a groan and hit the snooze button on my alarm clock. I had been dreaming about her—about Marie. It was weird, seeing as we had only met once, and it had been such a brief encounter. Yet since we had met, I hadn't been able to get her out of my head. And I couldn't even get away from her while dreaming, apparently. Again, I cursed myself for not getting her number. I really, really needed to see her again . . . But how? I had searched PeopleBook for the name “Marie,” but nothing came up. I didn't know where she worked or what she did, so I didn't know how I would be able to find her.
Chapter 9
Marie
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done something like this, but here I was pulling into a parking spot on the street outside Plant Power. I was coming here on purpose, hoping to run into the guy I’d met yesterday.
It was, in a word, ridiculous. But the worst that could happen is that he wouldn’t show and I’d leave disappointed but with a belly full of a healthy lunch.
Mr. Wallace had given me a list of names to go through, so I’d brought my laptop with me to start creating the invitations. With such short notice, I wasn’t sure how many people we’d get to come to the ball.
A ball. I snorted. It sounded like some kind of fairytale. I wondered if I could wear glass slippers, or if Mr. Wallace wouldn’t allow me to go unless I got all of my chores finished.
At the counter, I ordered a pasta salad and another blueberry smoothie, then went to sit down in the crowded dining area. I chose my seat carefully—I wanted to be able to see Jace if he happened to come in.
This was crazy. There was absolutely no reason to think he might be here. Although he had said he came here regularly, and he’d mentioned hoping he would run into me again.
Crap—what if he thought I was here to stalk him? Coming here two days in a row. I hadn’t thought this through, because now I would look totally obvious for being back here. I scooted my chair back. Maybe I could ask to get my food to go instead.
Too late. One of the helpful people behind the counter was waving at me and pointing to my plate of salad.
Just when I got up, I noticed Jace.
How had what I wanted so desperately now become the thing I dreaded? I pretended not to see him and walked up to the counter with my gaze glued to the floor.
“Marie? Marie!”
He’d seen me. It would be stupid to pretend I couldn’t hear him. “Oh, hi,” I said, giving him an awkward wave.
“I hoped you’d be back,” he said.
“You—really?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, and my heart started planning out how I could invest in that smile and become a billionaire immediately. Everyone would want that smile.
Shut up, I told my heart.
He was still talking. “So, I forgot to ask for your number yesterday. I really liked talking to you.”
“Oh. Oh! I liked that, too,” I said. “Sure, you can have my number.”
“Are you sitting down for lunch? Can I join you?”
My heart was doing happy somersaults in my chest. “Yes, I’d love that.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I could have stood there stupidly for another five minutes, watching him place his order and pay for it, but thankfully the helpful server said, “Don’t forget your pasta and smoothie,” and I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I took my food back to the table and shut my laptop.
A minute later, Jace joined me. “This isn’t weird, is it?” he asked.
“Nope,” I said. “At least, I don’t think so if you don’t.”
“Great. First things first.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “What’s your phone number?”
I told it to him, and he plugged it into his phone.
“And your Quickchat user name?” he asked.
“You use Quickchat?”
He winked. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“I guess maybe they do,” I said. Had he downloaded it because he saw I had it last time we talked? A warm, buzzy happiness spread through me and I had to fight to contain my grin. “It’s MarieVeroBenton.”
A second later, I heard my phone chime.
“It’s just me,” he said. “I texted you so you’d have my number, too.”
I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face. It wasn’t just attraction on my side—he liked me, too.
Someone at the counter called out, “Burger and kale smoothie,” and Jace nodded at me.
“Be right back,” he said.
When he returned and sat down with his food in front of him, he nodded at my closed laptop which was off to the side of the table. “So, world’s most boring question time, but let’s get it out of the way,” he said. “What do you do?”
“Right now, not much,” I said. “Weird errands for my eccentric boss. But the ultimate goal is investments.”
“Oh,” he said. His brown eyes went a little bit guarded.
“Not into business?” I asked him.
“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “I’m glad you’re pursuing your goal.”
“I really am. After being stuck with boring investments at my dad’s firm, I’m finally able to do more. I mean, as long as my mentor will stop giving me random jobs and let me in on the important stuff.”
“Makes sense,” he said.
We ate and chatted, and I told Jace all about my family. I heard about his friend Matthew and their love for New York. The lunch hour went by quickly, and suddenly I had to get back to work.
“I’m glad I came here, hoping to run into you,” Jace said, smirking.
“Me, too,” I said.
I’d felt so self-conscious when I’d first walked in here, and even a little as we’d talked. I’d wondered if I was too eager or coming on too strong. But as he picked up my hand and kissed it farewell like some kind of knight in shining armor, that self-consciousness melted completely.
I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky, meeting this guy. Even as we said goodbye, I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Chapter 10
Jace
Reflections shone from every mirror in my dream, and each one showed Marie, splayed out naked in front of me. I thrust inside of her, glorying in the tight feel of being enveloped by her. She moaned and held tight to my shoulders, and when I kissed her, the world seemed perfect and whole.
Waking
up sucked.
Everything in my penthouse seemed dull and cold. I wanted to return to the dream, and Marie’s arms.
Our time at Plant Power yesterday had been amazing. It had been a long time since I’d connected with a woman so strongly. Sadly, her keen interest in business reminded me a little too much of Samantha. Maybe if I kept my own business on the down-low for a while, I could gauge whether Marie was really interested in me, or in what my business had to offer.
That wasn’t fair; I knew she was interested in me. But once she found out about Quickchat, all of that could change. Everything could change, and it could go back to how it had been with Samantha.
However, I didn't really have the time to think about that right now. I had to get up, despite the raging boner I had after dreaming about Marie, and get showered so that I could put in a few hours of work before Aunt Barbara’s meeting in Long Island.
I had to admit that I felt a little annoyed at my aunt for forcing me to do this. I now had to take an afternoon off work and lose valuable time for this. I realized that I did have a lot to learn about how to be a successful CEO, and I appreciated her help . . . but why had she only taken an interest in me now?
When my parents had gone through hard times in California, when my dad's business had failed and they had gone bankrupt, where had she been? Barbara, with all her millions—no, billions—had been strangely quiet and elusive when we really needed her help. We hadn't heard from her in years—it was as if she had just cut us off.
And now, years later, when I had made some money and was a billionaire myself, now she suddenly reappeared into my life, offering help and assistance. It was hard not to feel like she was up to something. But what that could be, I didn't know. And for the moment, I didn't have the time to worry about stuff like that. If I didn't get moving now, I wouldn’t get anything done today.
With a groan, I heaved myself out of bed and trudged over to my bathroom, hoping that I would feel a little better after a good hot shower.
* * * * *
The taxi dropped me off outside the building where the merger meeting was to be held. I had dressed in one of my black Armani suits, and had gone to a barber just before getting dressed to get a shave with a straight razor and to get my hair neatened up. I wanted to look my best, to look as professional as I could for this. I caught a glimpse of myself in the tall building's mirror-finish glass. I looked pretty decent. I would make a good impression, I hoped.
“Well hey there, partner, you're right on time!” said a strangely familiar voice from behind me.
I turned around and saw Cory—the jerk my great-aunt had had a meeting with—standing behind me. He too was attired in a smart designer business suit, and he was holding a briefcase.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see him.
“Well hello to you too, Cooper,” he said with a smirk. “What do you think I'm doing here? Jeez, aren't you supposed to be a genius or something? I'm here for the same meeting you are.”
“How are you involved in all of this?” I asked.
Just being around this guy, with his obnoxious sneer and his arrogant attitude, was getting my temper to rise. I really couldn't stand him.
“Representing your Aunt Barbara,” he said.
“No, that's why I'm here,” I countered. “I'm representing her.”
He shook his head, still wearing that annoying smirk. “She didn't tell you, huh? Well she sent me as well. We're both here to represent her interests. Well, technically, I'm here to represent her interests. You—you don't have the experience or the ability to do that. I do. You're just here to observe, to try to learn something . . . if you can.”
I didn't really know what to say in response to this. I really wanted to have some sharp comeback, some comment that I could slam into him like a punch to the jaw—but nothing came to mind.
“See you inside, Cooper,” he muttered, and walked briskly into the building.
Great, just great.
“Thanks, Aunt Barbara, thanks a lot,” I muttered under my breath.
I turned to head into the building, but just then my phone buzzed in my pocket. I got it out and saw that it was an email notification. I opened my email account to check what had just been sent, and I saw that it was a message from Jackson “Isaac” Wallace. This was interesting . . . Was it the Isaac Wallace, the billionaire investor?
I opened the message and read it.
Dear Everett,
You are a man of great potential—and potential is one of my chief interests. You are also a man of generous financial standing. I believe that great men, such as you and me, should work together for the betterment not only of ourselves, but for society as well. With this in mind, I have organized a ball—an occasion at which you can network with like-minded folk, but also learn about how to give back to society in a meaningful way.
Seating is strictly limited, so a prompt reply as to whether you will be attending would be appreciated. Reply to this email to confirm your attendance, please.
Yours sincerely,
Isaac Wallace
I checked the date of the ball. Next Friday night. It sounded like a good networking opportunity, and I didn't have any plans. I might as well attend. I typed out a brief reply saying that I would be attending and sent it, and then headed into the building for the merger meeting.
Chapter 11
Marie
“We can take care of finalizing the venue and caterer tomorrow, Miss Benton,” said Isaac.
I did my best to hide my disappointment and put on a fake smile that I hoped he couldn't see right through. “Uh yes, yes of course, Mr. Wallace.”
For the past few days, it had been nothing but preparations for this last-minute ball. I wondered how he was going to manage getting a whole bunch of busy business people to one place with so little notice, but to my surprise, most people had emailed back immediately, confirming their attendance.
“When you take the time to get to know your peers,” Mr. Wallace had told me, “they’ll take the time to attend your events and support you as well.”
Now he stood up. “Well that's all for today then. I'm going to do a bit more reading, and then will have a nice relaxing bath and head off to bed. You know what they say, ‘Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.’ And I may not be a spring chicken any more, but sticking to the advice in that old adage has served me well throughout my eight decades of life.”
“I'm sure it has. So, I’ll see you tomorrow, at seven.”
He nodded. “You'd do better to arrive earlier than that—just a helpful hint. Seven at the latest. I do not tolerate tardiness. Strict punctuality is a quality that I value, and you'd do well to take that to heart. Good evening!”
I stood up and got my bag. “Good evening, Mr. Wallace. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
He gave me a friendly nod and a smile. “I'll see you in the morning.”
I walked off the porch and headed to my car, then climbed in and drove away. While I was thinking about what I had learned, an image of Jace popped into my head, and with it, a pang of longing. I hadn’t had time to call him, yet. He must have been just as busy as me, because he hadn’t called, either. We had had such an immediate and powerful connection. It was so rare to have that kind of connection with anyone, so I hoped it wouldn’t fade to nothing just because we were too busy to get in touch with each other. I sighed and shook my head.
“You have to grab opportunities with both hands as soon as they arise, Marie,” I whispered to myself. “Because sometimes, if you let them slip away, they don't come back. Sometimes you really do only have one shot, and if you waste it . . . you waste it.”
Feeling sad and disappointed, I drove back to my apartment and had a quiet evening in, getting to bed nice and early so that I could get to Isaac's house before seven the next morning.
He was by far the most eccentric employer I’d ever had. I hoped this whole experiment would be wo
rth it.
* * * * *
The hall Isaac had hired out looked fantastic, and I couldn't help feeling a jolt of pride rushing through me as I looked at the decorations, the expertly placed lighting, and just how well the theme worked with the building. It was Isaac's ball, yes—but it had been my hard work and the decisions I had made that put all of this together.
I was dressed in an expensive gown, purchased with some money my dad had sent when he heard about Mr. Wallace’s ball. This was a strict black-tie event, and the people who were arriving in limousines and luxury vehicles were all dressed in beautiful attire. They were, however, almost all above the age of sixty, it seemed. I felt like a child compared to everyone else here.
I was standing outside greeting the guests and checking off their names as they arrived. Again, a duty more suited to a personal assistant, but I was getting used to having to do these things now. I had had my initial investing/market-and-trend-observation lesson with the whole Plant Power thing, but that had been the only one thus far. I was wondering when I would figure out what the next lesson was—and whether there had even been another lesson somehow slipped into all these PA duties Isaac had me doing.
A long black limo pulled up to drop another guest or two off. “Nothing unusual here,” I thought as the white-gloved driver hurried out to open the doors of his car and helped his passengers out.
The woman he helped out of the limo looked to be in her eighties. She was stylishly dressed, and she wore exquisite jewelry.
From the passenger door on the other side of the vehicle came a very different guest. He was around my age, and was very good-looking. He was tall, well built, and looked very dapper in his tuxedo.
Still, there was something off about him. Maybe in the arrogant way he smiled at me. Or in his deep-set green eyes that roved over my body and seemed to undress me as he stared at me with unabashed lust. It was good to see someone my own age at this event, but this guy gave me the creeps.
“Good evening, sir, good evening, ma'am,” I said as they approached my table. “Could I have your names please?”
“I am Ms. Barbara Ameson,” said the old woman, her tone cold and strident. “And this is my business associate, Mr. Cory Burton.”