Boss Me

by Claire Adams

  Tears flew out. I was sobbing, shaking, and clenching my fists, just so that I could get a handle on myself.

  “Yes,” I said.

  He was on his feet, and I was in his arms before I knew what was happening. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad hobbling up. My mom followed behind him with Loren beside her. Haylie flew out from behind a corner and wrapped herself around my leg. I took my time, talking to everyone, and running after her while Jake stood watching me with a look of enchantment.

  Epilogue

  Mercedes

  Downtown was congested. The late afternoon traffic was particularly bad, given the number of events that were taking place this evening. There was a concert in the stadium, a political rally at the convention center, and an entire block was cordoned off for the local farmer’s market.

  We were lucky that that we were able to get the event hall when we did. Had we waited any longer, we would’ve had to put the whole thing off another year. I walked inside and took a look around. The arched entranceways lining the edges of the room had been veiled with golden silk, illuminated by sun lamps, casting a glow over the marble floors. Above the stage, the workers had hung a brightly lit, golden sun, etched with the silhouette of my father’s face.

  Speaking of which, my father walked around the stage, holding a microphone. He blew into it, and the sound blasted from the speakers in front of the stage. I shoved my fingers in my ears. “What are you doing?”

  He laughed. “I got you.”

  “Dad.” I marched up. “So help me God, this is one of the most important things I have ever done. You will not get drunk. You will not make jokes, and you will not say anything inappropriate. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave me a quick salute and strolled off the stage toward the bar at the back of the room.

  “Dad!”

  “Fine.” He walked back to where I stood in front of the stage. “Why won’t you let me have any fun?”

  “We let you indulge while you were doing your treatments, but you’re in remission now. You have to take care of yourself. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I feel fine,” he said.

  “And I don’t want you causing any trouble.”

  “I won’t.”

  “No, Dad. You don’t understand. If this goes well, we will save lives.”

  “So?”

  “So, you’re about to have a hundred snooty old women show up here. They’re not going to give us money if you get drunk and make a fool of yourself.”

  “Fine, but I’m getting drunk after. You keep that bar open; you got it?”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. I turned around, and my heart jumped. The feeling never went away. Jake was, and always would be, the catalyst for my desires. He came up and gave me a kiss. “I don’t understand the sun thing?”

  “They remind me of you.” I reached up and pulled a strand of his hair through my fingers. “You’re my golden god.”

  “And you’re my rose.” He wrapped his arm around me. “Have you thought of a name for the foundation yet?”

  “I decided to dedicate it to the person that made this possible.”

  “Who?”

  “You, silly. I’m calling it the Jake Ryan Foundation.”

  “I like the sound of it.” He dropped his arm. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, I’m starving.” We began walking out.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “I didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then I didn’t want you to know.”

  When we walked outside, the waning light of the evening sun cast an orange glow over the cars waiting in the downtown traffic. There was a little burger place two blocks up. I knew he would like it there. It was dingy, with a touch of comfort food, and tiny booths lining the walls. We took a seat in back and gave the waiter our orders.

  When he walked away, Jake leaned in. “You are going to shine tonight.”

  “So long as you stay by my side.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “I just hope somebody doesn’t cause a scene.”

  “Oh, come on.” He took a drink of his water. “Don’t you remember? The show is the best part.”

  “I guess it is.”

  “The trick is to distract them from the bar long enough for them to take out their wallets. Then, when it’s over, cut them loose and let them have at it.”

  “You’re a genius.” I laughed.

  The waiter came out with two plates of greasy burgers and tater tots.

  “How’s work?” I asked Jake.

  “How would you like to visit Tokyo?”

  “Why would I go to Tokyo?”

  “DIY deep fry.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it?”

  “In English. It sounds much better in Japanese. We’re opening a palace in one of the main shopping districts.”

  “A palace?”

  “It’s a pagoda with everything the rich need to feel safe. I never really liked the idea of pampering customers, but it is beautiful inside. I thought that maybe you might like to come and check it out.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why not? You still haven’t let me put you on a plane. You’d enjoy Japan.”

  “I just don’t know.” I took a bite of a tater tot.

  “Do you like traveling?”

  “I do, and you know that I’d love to travel.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  I took another drink of water and went back to my tater tot.

  “Have you spoken to Dori yet?” he asked.

  “I did. She wants me to come in this evening to do a fitting. Apparently, she’s been working on the dress for the past two months. She said she woke up, inspired, and decided that she would make me a dress.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s obsessed with me. She had her new assistant try to make friends with me, so she could convince me to model for her.”

  “You should do it.”

  “Maybe I will,” I said.

  “Why did you ask me to come with you?”

  “I wanted to pull you away from work and spend some time with you.” I took a bite of my burger.

  “Then I’m glad you did.” He reached over and took my hand, sending a shiver up my spine.

  There was a calm, quiet between us now. We didn’t worry the way we used to, not until now, while my fears rose up and his eyes passed through me. I focused on my food, and finished as much as I could while he took his time. He was silently urging me to open up.

  When I finished my food, he got a box, and we went our separate ways. I drove down to Dori’s office, and he went back to work. The full magnitude of what was happening didn’t hit me until Dori stepped back to admire her work.

  She held up a mirror for me to see. I was wrapped in a shining mosaic of woven amethyst and pearls. “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone to snap a picture before I could protest. “There, now you’re a model.”

  “But…”

  “I’m not putting you in a magazine,” she said. “I wanted to capture the moment.”

  “Thank you, Dori.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” She walked around her desk to duck down and pull out a pair of shoes. They were sparkling lavender, simple pumps with diamonds resting on the buckle.

  “No, no, no, no.”

  She lifted one foot and slipped it on. Then she moved to the other. I pulled it away.

  “No,” I said.

  “They’re gorgeous, and it’s the only thing I have to go with the outfit.”

  I pursed my lips. “Fine.” I threw up my hands.

  “There.” She slipped it on and stepped back. “You look amazing.”

  “Are you coming to the gala?” I asked.

/>   “I’m sending love.” She reached into her desk and pulled out a white envelope.

  “Thank you so much.” I hugged her and ran out into the limo waiting outside.

  Jake was still getting ready, so we stopped by the house to pick him up. He waited with his hands folded in front, holding a white corsage. When he got in, he leaned in and kissed me. Then he looked me up and down and shook his head. “That is going to be so fun to rip off.”

  “This,” I lifted my dress to show him the diamond buckles, “is unacceptable.”

  “It wasn’t my idea, I swear.”

  “No? You’ve been sneaking these diamonds in. Don’t think I didn’t notice that handbag.”

  “You won’t let me give you anything.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “You make me charge you rent.”

  “Because no man will ever support me. I will support myself.”

  “I’ll respect that, but can’t you give a little. What about something small, like a car?”

  “I like my car.”

  “It’s 30 years old.”

  “No, I’m not doing it. I will buy a new one when I need it.”

  “Mercedes, I want to be your safety net. If you get hurt or you can’t pay for medical bills, what will happen? I’m going to be there, and you can’t stop me.”

  “And I will protest the entire time.”

  “I’m fine with that, too. It’s fun seeing you squirm.” He laughed.

  I rested my head on his shoulder while we drove down the freeway. Spotlights swept across the sky, heralding my newfound purpose. There was no red carpet. I banned them completely, which meant that many of the usual players wouldn’t come, but the ones that gave were still on the guest list, and Jake was there.

  “You’ve done so much to make this happen,” I said when we stopped in front. “I don’t know that I could ever thank you enough.”

  “I think you’ve already found a way.” He rested his head on my belly.

  I gasped. “You knew, and you let me torture myself like this the whole time?”

  “I wanted you to have the chance to tell me yourself, and I didn’t know you were torturing yourself until we went out earlier.”

  “You’re okay with it?” I asked.

  “Okay?” He tilted my chin so that I faced him. “I’ve always wanted children. It’s a miracle.”

  “It is.”

  We walked out, hand in hand, into the event hall, where the city’s elite moved back and forth under the low light. They carried drinks, talked with each other, and laughed. Each of them contributed thousands of dollars to pay for cancer treatment for impoverished victims, just like my father. Jake saved my father’s life. Now, he was going to help me save the lives of thousands of other people. Fathers and mothers. Sons and daughters.

  He sat me down at a table beside the stage. He took my hand, and we both watched as my father walked on stage. He cleared his throat and began reading the speech he wrote. It was about the man that loved his daughter and decided to save his life simply because he could.

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  BILLIONAIRE’S SECOND CHANCE

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

  Chapter One

  Austin

  I gazed out of the window of my plane at the small town I used to call home. I’d left North Reed right after graduating from high school. I’d worked my ass off to get a scholarship to NYU to study accounting, and I couldn’t get out of this town fast enough.

  It had been eleven years since I’d been back here, and I could have gone eleven more without missing the place. My mother had different plans. She begged me to come home for Christmas this year. Normally, I just flew my parents up to my place in New York. I owned a gorgeous brownstone in Manhattan that I loved, but Mom missed the traditional holiday vibe of her house. After multiple conversations, I caved and came home.

  I even agreed to stay for a month, as long as I could bring Preston, my personal assistant. He kept my life organized, and I could never walk away from my many investments for a month without working. It caused me to get into a fight with Mom, but I won in the end. I needed to keep my life at least a little normal, even being here in Texas.

  I hated this place when I left, and apart from my family, I didn’t have any ties here. I was here for my parents, particularly since my father had a heart attack six months ago. Mom handled everything, and we spoke on the phone a lot, but I could tell she wanted a traditional Christmas at home as a family. Dad’s health scare made her want to focus on the important things in life. Who was I to argue with that?

  My plane landed on a runway away from commercial traffic since it was my own private plane. I had investments all over the world which required me to travel a lot. It just made sense to buy my own plane. I’d be sending it back to pick up Preston. He was taking care of some loose ends with a client, so he had to take a later flight. I could survive a day or so without him since we were in near constant contact.

  I thanked my pilot and walked off the plane. Cold wind swirled around me. I walked over to the rental car agency. I’d booked a car for the month. Mom offered to come pick me up, but it was a three-hour drive, and I would need a car, anyway. Plus, I knew she preferred being close to Dad.

  We settled the bill, and I paid with my AMEX before taking the keys out to the parking lot. The white Maserati waited for me. I put my suitcase and smaller bag in the trunk before adjusting the seat to suit my height. It was a nice car, although I preferred my new Bentley at home. Even though this was just to get around town, I liked my vehicles on the upper end. I worked hard for my money, and I liked to spend it, even though Mom never took me up on my offers to buy them cars or a new house. She was happy with their simpler life here and far too attached to their older ranch-style home to ever leave. I grew up there and had many fond memories, so I tried to understand her point of view.

  I slipped on a pair of sunglasses before I pulled out on the main road, confident that nobody knew I was here in Texas. Being one of the richest men in the world has its drawbacks, and the paparazzi was one of them. Every move I made was splashed all over every media source, and some that I didn’t make. People believed rumors far too easily in this world, and I made a point of keeping my travel plans under the radar. I didn’t want to subject my family to public scrutiny, choosing to keep everything about them as private as possible.

  The road was empty. I listened to the radio in between calls to Preston. One of my investments was dropping, and he was on it every second to decide if I should sell it or stick it out. Market fluctuations were common, and stocks often went right back up after a drop. Any turbulence with a company in the media could cause stocks to drop and come back up once there was a new story in the news. He seemed confident that I should keep it at the moment, and there was something about his easy English accent that comforted me. The man knew his numbers and the trends, and I contributed much of my wealth to his talents.

  I approached the town and looked it over with a soft shake of my head. Nothing ever fucking changed here. I glanced at the diner that I spent a lot of time at as a student, the corner store that we’d hit when we needed a quick drink or snack, and I laughed when I saw Grayson’s Barber Shop and Salon. It had been years since I’d had a cut here. I ran my hand through my long dark hair, and I considered getting it cut. I was always so busy in the city and let life pass me by with little time for anything but work. The media made me sound like I was a social butterfly, but the truth was they just caught me when I attended a funct
ion with my colleagues. It was convenient for them.

  I parked without thinking and turned the engine off. The street was lined with old trucks and modest cars, making this rental stand out. I had no idea how to do small-town anymore, and I shook my head. Mom would like it if I cut some of this shit off my head, and there wasn’t the array of salons here in North Reed like there was in New York.

  I locked the car and ignored the looks from shoppers on the sidewalk as I headed to the salon. It looked like any other salon in any other little city. The front was all glass, and one of the old-fashioned barber poles spun in the front. This place had been open long enough to cut Dad’s hair when he was a kid, and it appeared nothing had changed.

  My phone rang before I walked inside, and I grabbed it, seeing Mom’s name on the screen. I answered it and assured her I was just getting a quick haircut at Grayson’s. She told me how much she missed taking me there as a little boy, making me roll my eyes quietly as she strolled down memory lane. Her voice had a slow drawl to it that soothed me in the same way that Preston’s did, and I smiled as I leaned against the glass.

  Was I really here for a fucking month? I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself. I called Preston once I finished with Mom’s call, craving a connection to New York. I needed to think about my new life for a moment instead of the old one. I felt stuck here as a kid and getting away was such a relief. I even tried to get my folks to move to a nice place outside of New York City, but they were having none of that idea. I was lucky to have them join me for the holidays since I still had an aunt and uncle out here that my parents were close to.

  Preston told me that things were moving in the right direction now. I felt better when I ended the call and turned to walk into the salon. It was still the same long room lined with stations and a basic desk where you pay. A red-haired woman glanced up from a book that she wrote in and smiled at me. “Hello, there. What can I do for you today?” She was a Texas girl, complete with the accent and the easy way she spoke.