House of Cards (Tech Billionaires)

by Ainsley St Claire

  The fact that he seems even remotely okay with this makes me more depressed than I already am.

  “We can refuse, if we do it together,” I reason. “There has to be a way to get my mother to be more flexible about the will requirements.”

  Alex looks down for a moment, and when he looks back up at me, his face has changed. “You have to help me, Maggie. I have no other options. I know your mother wants this, but my father wants it too. If I don’t marry you, I will lose my inheritance and financial support. I have absolutely no skills. I’m an expert at going to spas and being pampered. I’m great at giving a blow job, but I can’t legally be paid for that.”

  I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me respond.

  “Please…” He reaches for me and pulls me into a hug, “Do this for me and for you—for your family business. It’ll be in name only. What you do on your own is up to you.”

  I look at him, and the weight of all this feels even heavier. Now it’s not just the future of the Reinhardt family business, but my best friend’s livelihood as well? How did we get to the point that this marriage is the only possible choice?

  I pull him in tight. “I fucking hate our parents; I hate their snobby attitudes, and I hate that we’re in the middle of their ridiculous focus on merging the businesses. I could care less about their wishes, but to liquidate everything my great-grandfather, grandfather, and father built isn’t how I was raised.”

  “I agree,” he says, muffled into my shoulder. “And you’re the best hope for Elite, too. As I mentioned, I certainly have no skills.”

  My maternal great-grandfather was the founder of Hudson’s department stores. My paternal great-grandfather founded Reinhardt’s. Both stores were started as five and dime stores after the Depression. They were intense rivals. Over time, both my grandfathers grew their businesses into high-end department stores and focused their growth in opposite parts of the United States. Reinhardt’s was the leading department store in the west, and Hudson’s was well-known in the east. Finally, once they got older, they came up with the idea of the future merger of their companies, and they arranged the marriage of my parents. For a while, my father had a thriving law practice, but when my grandfather died, to meet the terms of the will, he had to take over the family business.

  My father knew swings in the economy affected the business, so he diversified the stores, creating the current crown jewel in our fortune. Going back to the roots of the five and dime, we opened a discount retail store called Bullseye. The long hours and push for perfection meant my father was rarely home, and my mother spent a lot of her time involved in the community. We knew he’d grown close to his long-time secretary, Nancy, and rumors swirled about an affair. Then when I was in middle school, my dad launched a mid-level department store he called Murphy’s—also the name of his secretary’s son, and he acknowledged that my siblings and I had a half brother.

  Around the same time, Alex’s grandfather started Elite, an electronics store in downtown Minneapolis. It became the place where everyone bought anything that plugged in. When Alex’s father took over the business, he got advice from my dad and grew his own business into one of the largest high-end electronics stores around.

  I ease myself out of bed and check the clothes in my closet. “Would you care if I wore sweatpants today?”

  “No, but your mother might.”

  I roll my eyes. Instead of sweats, I pull out a beautiful designer outfit made just for our stores and put it on.

  “You look lovely,” Alex says. “Your mother will be very pleased.”

  Once I’m dressed, we walk together downstairs to the kitchen. Hazel, our housekeeper, has made a beautiful breakfast, and my mother is there reading the newspaper. She glances at us as we enter. “I knew Alex could get you out of bed.”

  I give her a plastic smile as I walk over to Hazel and give her a tight embrace. “Thanks for making my favorite breakfast. You’re the absolute best.”

  She nods.

  I don’t want my mother to go too crazy over my affection toward the housekeeper, so I point her toward the chocolate crepes with whipped cream and strawberries.

  “You do have a wedding dress to wear soon,” my mother notes. “Hazel, we’re going to need to put her on a diet.”

  “I’ll go with an empire waist and no one will know.”

  “They’ll think you’re pregnant.” She looks over at Hazel to make her point. “No more than a thousand calories a day.” Picking up her phone, she types out a message. When she’s done, she looks up at me. “I just confirmed Rachel to meet you each morning for a long workout and a run.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Alex asks. “Curves look good on Maggie.”

  She gives him her laser death stare, and he sits back.

  “Mom, you can force us to do this, but it doesn’t mean I’ll do it happily.”

  “Yes, it does.” She gets up and leaves the room.

  I groan. “I hate the way she leaves the room so you either have to follow her out to reply or she gets the last word.”

  Hazel pats me on the back and fills my cup with strong coffee. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  After my teleconference for the Foundation—which feels rushed because I know Mother is counting the moments until I’m done—Alex and I spend the afternoon with her, meeting with the wedding planner and going through all her plans. Mother and the planner, Veronique, have decided my bridesmaids will wear lavender silk dresses. They’ve also decided who will be in the wedding party. I hardly know one of the attendants, but when I protest, Mother gives me the ice stare that tells me to get in, buckle up, and shut up; this is their ride, not mine.

  The day evaporates, and before I know it, we’re home for dinner.

  “I’m eating in my room,” I announce.

  “That’s fine,” Mother says. “I had Hazel clear out your snack drawer.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t care. I just need to recharge and be alone.”

  I hate this more than I can say. Opening the door to my room, I spot my cell phone, which I accidentally left behind all day. There are sixteen messages. My so-called friends are getting excited, but it’s not like they don’t know Alex is gay and this is a sham, so I’m not sure how seriously to take their support. They’re all just people Mother has put in my life anyway. Then I see the text message. My heart stops and crumbles all over again.

  Jonnie: I miss you.

  Tears pool in my eyes. I’m tired, hungry, and miserable. I never knew it was possible to fight within myself so much. This is what has to be done, so why does it feel so awful? And poor Jonnie. I thought telling him I was getting married would be the end of it—who wants to bother with that? But he genuinely seems to want to understand, which means I have to find the strength to talk it through with him. Strength I’m not sure I have.

  My brothers have left me to fend for myself, and until I had Jonnie, I didn’t feel like there was anyone in my life I could truly share this sort of thing with. I miss him. Over those few months before my father’s death, he’d become the best thing in my life. And right now he’s the one genuine person I can think of. I’ve always called Alex my best friend, but I think that’s just because I didn’t know what was possible. He was never interested in the business side of my life and now he’s acting weird about all this wedding stuff.

  I pour myself a glass of wine, and after a little while I respond.

  Me: I miss you, too.

  Jonnie: Can we talk?

  Me: I’ve been wedding planning all day. I’m exhausted.

  Jonnie: How’s that going?

  Me: I have no control over anything. I learned today who my attendants are and the color they’ll be wearing, the flowers they’ll be holding, and what my bouquet will look like.

  Jonnie: This just doesn’t make any sense to me. I need you to tell me what’s going on.

  Me: Simply put, it’s about my father’s will and what it require
s for the future of the company. Alex and I have to do this. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. I don’t expect you to understand.

  Jonnie: I want to understand. I want to talk it through with you so we can find another way.

  I need to change the subject or it will only further depress me.

  Me: Could we talk about something else right now? I could use a distraction. How are things at the Shangri-la?

  Jonnie: Good, but not the same if I’m not doing it all for you.

  I snort. All for me? I don’t think so.

  Me: You’re successful at whatever you put your mind to.

  Jonnie: Particularly when I have motivation.

  Me: We need to find you some strong motivation then. Chocolate? Coffee? Bourbon?

  Jonnie: You

  Me: Cookies, trips, clothes, jewelry?

  Jonnie: I’m serious.

  Me: I know. It just can’t happen.

  Jonnie: That’s not acceptable.

  Me: I should go. My mother has me on a diet, and I need to eat something before I start eating this phone.

  Jonnie: You’re perfect just the way you are. You don’t need to change a thing.

  I would love to share that with my mother, but I’ll never let her know he’s in my life—in any capacity.

  Me: Goodnight.

  Chapter 6

  Jonathan

  Maggie has avoided any decent conversation with me for almost a month. She sounds wrecked and damn near despondent when I do manage to reach her, so I never want to make things worse or more stressful for her. But that’s getting me nowhere, except closer and closer to this ridiculous wedding she seems committed to. Today I’m determined I’m going to talk to her—a real conversation, even if I have to fly home to do it. This is impossible.

  I take another look over the list of players we’ve invited to the high-stakes poker game Nate Lancaster asked me to put together. I crafted the invitation carefully, making sure everyone who received it understood that Nate had asked for the game.

  Now I just need to sit down with Travis, my head of security, and Gillian in guest relations, to make sure we can cover everything from the security and casino perspective.

  Right on time, they appear in my office, and I hand them copies of the list.

  “These guys are billionaires?” Travis asks.

  I nod. “On paper at least—as far as the SEC knows.”

  Gillian shakes her head. “Nate Lancaster is more than a billionaire on paper.”

  “I suppose they all are,” I relent.

  “Well, I think the game should be Texas Hold’em, and the buy-in at least three million,” Gillian says. “A million for them is like a thousand dollars to a normal person. It should hurt at least a little bit.”

  “Nate suggested a five million buy-in.” I shrug. “All they can do is say no.”

  “Exactly. What else should we offer?” Gillian asks.

  “Box seats to Queen Diva?” I offer.

  “Nate just did that,” Gillian reminds us.

  “Sure, but no one else did,” Travis adds.

  She shrugs. “We can comp a suite. These guys will order tons of food and room service, so that will become a moneymaker.”

  I nod. “What else would make it enticing?”

  Gillian sits up straight in her chair. “Will most of them be bringing someone? We can set up a tour of the stores along The Boardwalk.”

  I like that idea. The Boardwalk is fifty A-plus stores housed on the property—all the high-end retailers in the world. They’re mostly Italian, but there are also a few French ones, and we recently introduced a Japanese designer.

  “That might work. I’m not sure who Viviana and Mia will bring, but we can offer a high-end bourbon tasting at The Derby restaurant. They’d enjoy that,” I suggest.

  “Plus, if they get drunk enough, they could all lose,” Travis adds.

  I snort. “That would probably bankrupt us if it got out, but I still think they’d enjoy the tasting.”

  “What about a cooking lesson from Tammy Flint?” Gillian suggests. “She’s the new hit on the Food Channel, and her restaurant on The Boardwalk is doing really well.”

  “If you can talk Tammy into coming, we can cover her costs, but don’t let her negotiate a rent discount on her restaurant. I want to pay her for her time,” I say.

  “Shopping, a show, liquor, food, and gambling—what else could they want?” Gillian shrugs as she steps out for a moment to confirm with Tammy. When she returns, she has a big smile. “She loves the idea and says she won’t take any money for it.”

  “We’ll do something for her,” I muse.

  Now that we’ve hashed out some details, I put the finishing touches on an email to Nate to update him on the perks we can offer. My phone rings within seconds. I answer as Gillian and Travis leave.

  “This is exactly what I was hoping for.” I recognize Nate’s voice instantly. “Thanks for putting it together.”

  “I’m happy to help.”

  “Cecelia is going to love the shopping thing and will drool all over Tammy Flint. Who did you end up inviting?”

  I rattle off the list of mostly tech billionaires. They all carry a level of fame, but between their security and the Shangri-la’s security, we’ll be fine.

  As we talk, I write a few things down in my notebook to prepare for their arrival once they confirm.

  “Perfect,” Nate says. “I’ll send them personal emails to follow up and convince them to come with all these perks.”

  “Is the buy-in too much? I thought that was what you said, but we weren’t sure about your friend Walker Clifton, since he’s a U.S. Attorney.”

  Nate snorts. “You don’t need to worry about Walker. His family found gold in San Francisco generations ago, and they’ve turned that into many things, including eighteen apartment buildings down in the Marina.”

  I sit back and smile. This is going to be good. “Outstanding. Should I email you as the remaining players commit? We’ve tentatively reserved suites for all the players and their entourages.”

  “Sounds great,” Nate says.

  “The first night we’ll have two tables with the five million buy-in, and the second night can be the top players with a ten million buy-in. Done.” I sit back, trying not to laugh out loud. I grew up with people who had money, but not like these guys.

  “Perfect,” Nate says. “We’re all set. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

  I’ve just hung up the phone when Lola is at my door. “Queen Diva again.”

  I sigh. “Tell Travis to meet me at her dressing room with the video we discussed.”

  “Will do. I’ll let her know you’re on the way.”

  On my way across the hotel I’m stopped by my pit boss. “How’s it going this afternoon?” I ask him.

  “Not bad, sir. The blonde at table eight has maxed out her credit card and seems to be out of luck. She keeps asking if the house will extend her credit.”

  I shake my head. I feel for people who think if they play just one more hand, their luck will change. “Call Gillian and have her come down and sit with the woman. See what’s going on. If she needs a job, we can try to move her into a cocktail waitress gig, or if she’d prefer, we can recommend her to one of the restaurants or stores on The Boardwalk.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll make the call.”

  I make money when people lose, but for some, walking away is really tough. I want my guests to have fun, not look for a high building and jump.

  When Caden and I arrive at Queen Diva’s dressing room, Travis is waiting for me. “You didn’t go in?”

  He shakes his head. “No way. She’s mad as a hornet.”

  We turn, bracing ourselves for the impending barrage. Caden stays at the door. Pussy. This is going to be ugly.

  “Do you know why she’s upset?” I say in a low voice.

  “Nope. I just heard her ranting and raving, and her assistant ran down the hall, muttering to herself.”

/>   “Don’t worry too much about the assistant. She’s paid about what you are.”

  He lifts an eyebrow.

  “I insisted on that in the contract. It comes out of Queen’s profits, but she’s on our payroll.”

  “I’m not sure that’s enough,” Travis says.

  “All right, let’s put our big boy pants on.” I take a deep breath and open the door. “Hello, Queen. What can I do for you today?”

  Her husband gives me a grateful look, probably glad I’m moving into the hot seat now.

  “The dress from my first act is now missing.”

  I notice Travis fingering a jump drive. “When was the last time you saw the dress?” I ask her.

  “When I took it off during my costume change at last night’s show.”

  I prepare for the verbal assault, and as it begins, I hold up my hand. “We have a duplicate already made. This isn’t catastrophic. And let’s not notify the media. This gets out and people will be climbing the walls to get at your costumes.”

  She looks horrified and turns to her husband. “You caused this mess. You were the one that thought letting the media know what happened would prevent it from happening again, and now another dress is missing. We may have multiple thieves, you clueless son of a bitch.”

  He’s a broken man, but that was my concern when he decided to alert the tabloids.

  “Well, there’s nothing we can do to change that now,” I tell Queen. “But let’s not add any more fuel to the fire, okay?”

  She nods, and turns her ire back to me. “What are you doing to protect our investment?”

  Travis steps forward. “We’ve watched the video from the camera outside your room for the past few weeks. We’ve noted the people coming and going and even followed a few through the hotel to see if the dress can be seen, but we’re not having any luck.” He hands her the jump drive. “Everything is on here. You’re welcome to see if something looks suspicious to you. My team was looking for the dress, but you may find someone who wasn’t supposed to be in your dressing room that we don’t know.”