Dirty Business_A Billionaire Romance

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Dirty Business_A Billionaire Romance Page 9

by Ellie Danes


  Isaac noticed and chuckled. “I don't think you're quite used to being up at this hour, are you?”

  “I'm not, no,” I admitted.

  “Well you did make it here on time, with ten minutes to spare. Well done. Anyway, come on, let's head out to the park. I'm ready to go.”

  I nodded. “Your car or mine?”

  He handed me the keys to his BMW as he said, “We'll take mine.”

  It was only a ten-minute drive from his place to the park, which was good, because I felt that if it had been any longer I would have fallen asleep at the wheel. We parked near the entrance and then walked in. The sky was now light, and the first rays of the sun were hitting the tops of the trees. There was a group of mostly elderly Chinese people standing in what looked like a formation, all practicing the same slow, deliberate movements, guided by an elderly man who stood in front of them.

  “Are we going to join in?” I asked Isaac.

  He shook his head. “No. Just watch, just observe.”

  I wanted to throw my hands up into the air and scream. Why did we have to be up at the crack of dawn to just go and watch people doing Tai Chi? I could just as easily have looked up some videos of it on my own time.

  Still, I managed to restrain myself. There was a reason that Isaac wanted me here in person . . . I just hadn't figured it out yet, and I'm sure that when I did, it would make perfect sense. I just wished that it made sense right now.

  As we watched the Tai Chi practitioners doing their slow, repetitive routine, my mind once again drifted back to thoughts of Jace. I was still having trouble trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was Everett J. Cooper IV. All this time I had been lied to. I wasn't sure what I was going to say to him the next time I saw him.

  In fact, I wasn't even sure when that was going to be. Just thinking about the information he’d withheld from me made me not want to see him. At least, not until I could come to terms with the fact that he had been dishonest with me.

  I was starting to feel like I was falling asleep on my feet now. The kick from the coffee had long since worn off, and it wasn't as if I could just find another steaming hot cup of it in this park. Ugh, why were we here?

  After around half an hour, the practitioners wrapped up their session and started to disperse and leave the park.

  “All right, Mr. Wallace,” I said to Isaac, “what now?”

  “Come with me,” he said, heading over to where the instructor was packing his bag.

  The instructor was a short, slimly built Chinese man with a bald head and a long gray mustache. He saw Isaac walking toward him and smiled widely.

  “Isaac!” he said. “You came!”

  “Eric,” replied Isaac with a warm smile, “I said I'd be here, and here I am.”

  The men shook hands.

  “So, what do you think?” asked Eric. “Would you like to join my Tai Chi class?”

  “I think I would, actually,” said Isaac. “By the way, this is my associate Marie Benton. Marie, this is Eric Chen, CEO of Golden Dragon Enterprises.”

  Whoa, all right—now this all made sense. Golden Dragon Enterprises was one of the biggest importers of Chinese goods into the US. I had no idea, though, that the CEO was a Tai Chi instructor in his spare time.

  I shook Eric's hand.

  “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Chen,” I said.

  He and Isaac talked about Tai Chi for a while, and that was pretty much all they talked about. However, at the very end of the conversation, Isaac set up a time with him to talk about a software company he had invested in, which was looking into importing some tech goods from China. They agreed on a time and a place, and then parted ways.

  “So, what did we learn this morning, Marie?” asked Isaac.

  “That perhaps it's good to take an interest in a client's life beyond mere business interactions?”

  He nodded and smiled. “Precisely. Eric and I have been doing business for years now. And I've always taken an interest in his life outside the sphere of ‘mere business.’ Consequently, he has always given me very favorable rates and insider tips. Remember Marie, in business you're not just working with machines and numbers—you're dealing with human beings, and if you treat them as such, and give them the respect and kindness that they as human beings deserve, it will come back to you. Everything you do comes back to you somehow. That's a truth I've come to realize in my eight decades of existence on this planet.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Wallace. I really do appreciate the lessons you've been teaching me. I've been learning a lot.”

  “I hope so. Come on, let's go get some breakfast.”

  * * * * *

  I was taking a break and reading the finance section of the newspaper when my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Jace. I had no idea what I was going to say to him, or whether I could even handle seeing him after learning he hadn’t been up front with me. Nonetheless I opened the message. I had to see, at least, what he wanted to say to me.

  Hi, Marie, the message said. I hope you had a good night's rest and that you aren't feeling too tired this morning. If you're not working, would you like to go biking later? I have a spare bike you can borrow if you don't have your own. Let me know.

  I wasn't quite ready to see him, but thankfully I had a legitimate excuse for that—I was still working for the rest of the day.

  Sorry, I can't, I wrote. I'm working the entire day. See you some other time.

  And that was all I said. It was all I could say for now. I sent the message and put the phone back in my bag. It buzzed again a few seconds later, but I didn't check the next message.

  Isaac, however, came up and spoke to me.

  “Break time is over, young lady,” he said. “And now I'm going to have to ask you for another favor.”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “I have been asked to attend a meeting, but I don't want to go myself. I would like to send you as my representative. Would you be able to handle that?”

  This was a rather big, and very unexpected, request. But this was what I wanted to do—this would be something that would be directly relevant to me, and would provide me with valuable experience. As daunting as it was, I had to do it.

  “Of course, Mr. Wallace,” I said. “As long as you give me some clear goals of what you'd like to achieve, I'll do my best to ensure that those goals are met.”

  “That's what I like to hear,” he said with a smile. “Here's a report you can read through. My goals and the minimum I'll accept to broker a deal are quite clearly outlined in it. Familiarize yourself with these goals, and I think you'll be more than prepared to represent me effectively in this meeting.”

  “All right,” I said, taking the report from him. “And when is this meeting? And who is it with?”

  “It's in two hours,” he said, “so I hope that you're a fast reader. And it's with a man named Cory Burton, of Burton, Inc.”

  Oh great…Cory freakin' Burton.

  Chapter 18

  Jace

  I awoke feeling groggy, my body stiff and aching. It was almost like having a hangover, except that I hadn't had anything to drink the night before.

  No, the reason I was feeling this way was because I had hardly slept. I had been overcome with feelings of guilt and worry because of this whole thing with Matthew. And all the while, my aunt's words echoed repeatedly through my mind.

  She and I had talked at length about how to get Matthew out of the company. I hadn't yet agreed to do it—but it was seriously looking as if getting him out was the only sensible course of action that I could now take. The press had gotten wind of what had happened, and, as my aunt had correctly predicted, they were all over it like rabid dogs.

  I turned on my phone after struggling out of bed and stumbling over to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. I immediately went to a couple of news sites I regularly checked out, and sure enough there were articles about Matthew's car wreck all over. And, of course, most of them were
talking about Matthew with no sympathy at all—only condemnation. Great, just great.

  My aunt had said the easiest strategy would just be to buy him out. To offer him the current price plus fifty percent to buy out all his shares in the company. He would have more than enough money with all of that to never have to work again and still maintain a comfortable lifestyle. Any reasonable person would take that offer, and my aunt assumed that Matthew would jump at it.

  However, this wasn't just about money. It never had been. This was about so much more than that. Matthew and I had built our software company from nothing. We had driven all the way across the country in a clapped-out, rusty van with nothing but our meager possessions and a few dollars in our pockets—and a huge dream. And we had made that dream work. We had, against all odds, made it. We were living the American Dream. We had, through our blood, sweat, and tears, started from the very bottom and worked our way to the very top.

  And it had been as much because of Matthew's work and innovative genius as it had been because of mine.

  It wasn't about money. I knew that, even if my aunt didn't. Matthew wouldn't consent to just being bought out like this. And what kind of a friend would I be if I did this?

  I knew, however, that it was the decision a hard-hearted, ultra-practical CEO would make. In a sense, my aunt was right about Matthew. Not wholly right, of course. I didn't agree with her assertion that he was a deadweight dragging the company down. No. He could, of course, be unreliable at times, and sometimes his uber-laid-back attitude was at odds with what we were trying to achieve here, but he had great ideas, and he was a genius when it came to coding. Yes, Quickchat, the app that had boosted us from struggling tech company to almost household name overnight, had been my idea, but without the enhancements and tweaks Matthew had suggested, the app wouldn't have been nearly as successful as it had.

  Maybe getting rid of Matthew was the right thing to do to restore investor confidence. Maybe it was the right thing to do to restore my company's public image. Maybe it was the right thing to do to ensure that we made billions of dollars in the future.

  But would it be the right thing to do in terms of friendship? This guy was like a brother to me, and now, after finding out his father was terminally ill with cancer, and after he had been in a coma, he was going to wake up and find out that I wanted to kick him out of the company? Was that the right thing to do in terms of kindness? In terms of decency? In terms of compassion? In terms of humanity?

  I shook my head and curled my hands into tight fists.

  No. It wasn't the right thing to do. And while it might be good for the company, I knew that, ultimately, if this was how I did things, I would become the type of person I never, ever wanted to become, and I would not be able to live with myself. What good would billions of dollars do me if I lost my best friend? If I couldn't sleep every night due to my conscience eating away at me?

  No. Matthew was staying. He would have to make some committed changes, yes, but I wasn't going to kick him out. It wasn't the right thing to do.

  I decided that I needed a nice relaxing day just to get my mind off all of this for a while. I messaged Marie to see if she wanted to do some biking this afternoon. I got a reply quickly, and she said no, that she couldn't because she was working. I was disappointed, but messaged her saying that that was okay, and asking when she was free next to hang out. I waited for the reply to that, but it just didn't come. She must be busy or something. I guess I would have to just go biking alone then.

  With a sigh, I put my phone away and went to make myself some breakfast.

  * * * * *

  I got off the bike and wiped the sweat from my brow, breathing hard from the exertion of the ride. It had been a fantastic ride, tough but really exhilarating. I had a quick drink of Gatorade, and then got back on the bike and had a nice slow cycle back into the city to cool down. I headed, as I usually did after a good workout, to Plant Power to get myself a green smoothie. I locked my bike up outside and went in to get my order.

  While I was sitting at a table inside, I checked my phone. It was now late in the afternoon and Marie had still not replied. Couldn't she have just sent me a quick message? I had to wonder if something was up.

  As I was holding my phone though, it rang. I almost jumped with fright. I saw that it was a number that I didn't recognize. I answered it, wondering who it was.

  “Hi, this is Jace,” I said.

  “Jace? I'm looking for Everett Cooper, and was given this number,” announced a gruff male voice. It sounded like an elderly man.

  “Oh yes, this is Everett speaking. My friends call me Jace. And who am I speaking to?”

  “This, Mr. Cooper, is Raymond Villiers.”

  Ah—Raymond Villiers, renowned billionaire, and backer of many promising tech start-ups in Silicon Valley. I had meant to speak to him at the ball about possibly investing in my company, but then I'd had to run off to the hospital and see how Matthew was doing after his accident.

  “Hi, Mr. Villiers, it's great to hear from you. I meant to talk to you at Isaac Wallace's event the other night, but I had to leave early because of an unexpected emergency.”

  “Yes, I know—we all know now. It was because of your partner driving drunk and wrapping his damn car around a tree!” His tone sounded harsh and judgmental. I didn't like where this was going.

  “Yes,” I said, “and it was a really foolish thing for him to have done, but thankfully he's all right. Well, he isn't quite all right yet, but he's going to be.”

  “His body and his car weren't the only things that his idiotic actions damaged, Cooper. The reputation of your company is on the line. I was very, very interested in investing a substantial sum into your company, especially seeing as you're on the verge of going public. But now that I know that you have someone like that irresponsible fool at the helm with you, I'm having second thoughts. Serious second thoughts.”

  “Mr. Villiers, I assure you that when Matthew has recovered, he's never going to do anything that stupid again. I mean—”

  “So, you mean to tell me that you're keeping him at the helm with you?!”

  I stiffened in my chair. “Well, yes, that is what I'm telling you.”

  “Then you and I have nothing further to discuss. Good day, Mr. Cooper,” he said coldly.

  “Wait, Mr. Villiers, if you'll just—”

  “I said good day, Mr. Cooper!”

  The call was abruptly cut off. I wanted to toss my phone across the room. It was happening, just as my aunt had said it would. Potential investors were losing confidence in me—and that wasn't good news. That could never be good news.

  What the heck was I going to do? I couldn't let Matthew go, no way. I just couldn't. But then we needed this final boost of investment before we went public. We really did.

  “I overheard that conversation, Jace,” whispered a familiar voice in my ear. “And it wasn't as if I were eavesdropping. You were just talking so loudly that the whole restaurant could hear you.”

  I looked behind me and saw my ex, Samantha . She was dressed, as usual, in flattering clothes that showed off her physical assets, and she was gazing at me with a flirtatious glint in her large, beautiful eyes, which were heavy with makeup.

  “Oh, hi Samantha,” I said to her, trying unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “So, Villiers isn't going to invest in your company, is he?”

  There wasn't much point in lying; she had heard pretty much everything. “No, he isn't.”

  “All because of your loyalty to your best friend.”

  I nodded. “I'm not going to throw Matthew under the bus. No. No way. It's not going to happen.”

  She nodded and smiled at me, her full, glossy lips glinting in the light. “That's admirable,” she said. “Stupid, and shortsighted . . . but admirable.”

  “Well I don't care how you see it, or how anyone else sees it,” I responded hotly. “Matthew has been my best friend since we were twelve years old, and
he helped build this company. It's as much his as it is mine, and I'm not going to kick him out.”

  “You're so kind . . . and probably way too generous. Everyone can see who the real genius of the operation is, Jace. Everyone can see who the real leader is. And it's not Matthew.”

  I shook my head. “It doesn't matter what you think,” I muttered.

  “Perhaps it does matter, Jace. Because remember, I've got the money you need for that final boost of investment before you go public. So, Villiers doesn't want to invest—you know what? Screw him. Go with my offer. You're going to have to, actually. You've seen the media; the stories about Matthew's irresponsibility and his accident are all over the place. And you've seen what the media has done with these stories. They're crucifying him—and dragging your company's name through the mud. Now tell me, Jace, who is going to want to sink a pile of cash into your company now, with the future looking so uncertain? Who?”

  I shook my head and looked away. I hated what she was saying, but the thing was, she was right. She was absolutely right.

  “And you're still willing to invest in the company, even knowing that I'm keeping Matthew on board?” I asked, somewhat warily. “Even despite our past personal relationship?”

  She smiled. “I am. Because of you, Jace. I know genius when I see it, and I know that you're going to be able to ride this wave out, as rough as it is. And I also know that even with this media storm going on, you're going to be able to take this company to new heights, to places you would never have dreamed of.”

  I had to admit, her words were tempting. And she was right; investor confidence in our company was at a low. I didn't know who was going to sink a considerable sum of cash into the company after this—nobody would . . . except Samantha Wood, apparently.

  “So, you'd really do this? You'd really invest?”

  She nodded, and I could see that there was a “but” coming.

  “I will. But there's a condition.”

  A-ha. I knew it. “All right, and what's this condition?”

  She grinned and stared at me with a flirtatious gaze.

 

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