Sinker: Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Colleen Charles

  “Coffee?” the eternally perky blonde asked me, eyes sparkling with mirth as she held out a steaming cup.

  I reached out, took it from her and sipped, welcoming the burn as the hot liquid scalded my tongue. It was nothing to the heat in my chest. I wondered if it would be rude to ask if they had a shot of Kahlua or Bailey’s Irish Crème. Or straight Vodka.

  After handing me the java, Cassie leaned in and whispered, “You certainly pulled yourself together nicely.” The bitch even had the audacity to slide me a saucy wink. The nerve.

  I couldn’t tell if she was actively sabotaging me or she was really just that perky and…dumb. I resisted the urge to steal a glance at Quinn and Mr. Albertson. Had they heard her little comment? I certainly didn’t want to muddy the waters or appear unprofessional. Would Mr. Albertson call off the deal if he knew that I had slept with his attorney? I never considered the consequences of sleeping with the counsel to Mr. Albertson.

  But I should have. Should have remembered that my career had always been my number one priority. Because it didn’t screw me and toss me away like yesterday’s trash.

  Holy shit. My stomach churned and twisted as I took another swig of the bitter coffee. We shouldn’t have slept together last night. If Henri found out, my rash actions could tank the entire deal. And my promotion. My life. He hadn’t sent me down to Destin on the corporate expense account to slide into my ‘fuck me’ heels and take it literally. I was sent here to get a multi-million dollar deal to close without a hitch. Not screw the brains out of the attorney who represented the seller.

  It was too late now to go back for a redo. I had to shut up and suck it up. Smile my prettiest grin and see this thing through. Hopefully, Mr. Albertson would approve of our plans and I could be on my merry way back to Atlanta with a signed contract in hand on tonight’s red-eye. So much for an extra day to enjoy the ocean. Every time I looked at it now, the blue waters would be laced with my regret. Months later we could break ground for a new hotel and I would get a nice promotion and hopefully a big raise and bonus to go along with it. Money and accolades to help ease the pain.

  I kept my eyes on the blueprints and sketches as I showed Mr. Albertson what we had planned for the Flamingo Hotel. It was hard to curtail the excitement that infiltrated my speech. The plans were stellar. “As you can see, we will have a beautiful five-story modern hotel with two hundred thirty-one guest suites. The first floor is dedicated to the guest reception area and lobby, private offices, a gift shop, and a five-star luxury spa. All the guest suites will be located on floors two through five. The infinity pool will be located on the roof. We will also have a small Polynesian-style bar and steakhouse. Five stars with a famous chef. At the elevated height, guests will be able to see all of the beach from the fifth floor.”

  “Very swanky,” Mr. Albertson commented and pursed his lips into a fish face. Kind of like Quinn’s grouper. What wasn’t to like about Henri’s blueprint. My boss was one of the best real estate developers east of the Mississippi. Companies lined up to do business with him.

  Flipping to the next page, I showed him the plans for the restaurant. “It will be a first-class steakhouse with a five-hundred-square-foot humidor and cigar lounge attached. Also, a built-in wine cellar that will hold over three thousand bottles of vintage wine. Wine that won’t be available anywhere else. Some bottles from private collections.”

  Mr. Albertson peered over the top of his glasses. “Where’s the proposed shopping mall?”

  I stood up and moved closer to Quinn so I could access the plans with more ease. “With the vacant land we are also acquiring, the open air boutique shopping center would be here,” I pointed to the print. “We don’t have the finalized plans yet, but as soon as the architect is done I can send them to you.”

  “We would prefer to see the plans before signing the deal,” Quinn stated. Why did he have to make my life so damn difficult? In every way possible?

  Shithead. Was he really trying to talk Mr. Albertson out of the deal? Or, was this a stalling tactic so he could try to explain away his stripperesque assistant fuck buddy? I wanted to pull my hair out. Why would Quinn ask that at this stage in the game? If he had a problem with the plans, he should’ve told me last night. I’d have called Henri right away and had the plans faxed over. Henri could have had the entire office stay until midnight if that’s what it took to close this deal today.

  “I have the preliminary plans,” I said, giving him another sheet of paper to look at. “But until the deal is done we won’t have the full plans ready. It takes weeks to complete a full rendering by our in-house architects. Surely, you’ve done enough deals of this magnitude to know that.”

  I flung my last comment in the general vicinity of Quinn’s thick skull. My firm wasn’t going to waste money having our brilliant architects working non-stop to draw up detailed plans for something we may never purchase. Mr. Albertson knew it. Quinn knew it. What kind of ridiculous toddler tantrum was he throwing? Stall much?

  “Is there any concern about trading the lots?” I asked. “Yesterday, I was led to believe that these plans were all that was needed to move forward. Our deal is generous. The gulf-front lot we are willing to trade has significantly more value than the lot we’re purchasing.”

  “It’s not about the money,” Mr. Albertson said.

  “That lot has been in our family for generations,” Cassie said. What in the hell was she still doing here? Then, the magnitude of what she’d just said hit me in the solar plexus. Things were starting to fall into place. My ears perked up.

  “Cassie is Mr. Albertson’s daughter,” Quinn clarified upon noticing my confusion.

  Well, that explained everything. Quinn was screwing around with the boss’s daughter.

  For money? A promotion? The whole damn enchilada when Albertson laid down to take the dirt nap?

  Cassie gave Quinn a warm smile. “We just hate to see the lot being used for some tacky souvenir shop.”

  My Stanford educated blood pressure spiked. I clenched my fists and concentrated on taking slow deep breaths. I was not going to let some two-bit, trust fund whore ruin my deal. It seemed that Quinn and Cassie were doing a good negotiator/bad negotiator routine with me now. It was ridiculous. Even worse, the fact that he obviously thought so little of me that he could pull the corporate wool over my eyes without issue. He had another thing coming because this wasn’t my first rodeo.

  For the first time, I wondered if I even liked my job well enough to put up with this bullshit. Quinn had fucked me in more ways than one.

  “I would prefer to deal exclusively with Ashton, if you don’t mind,” Mr. Albertson said in their direction. The look on Cassie’s face was priceless. A combination of consternation spiked with astonishment. Probably the first time she’d ever been dismissed by Daddy Warbucks.

  Quinn started to argue but Albertson put up a hand. “Just give us a moment, please.”

  Dismissed.

  A smug smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I blinked rapidly, not really expecting such a firm response from Mr. Albertson but grateful to the older man for leaving the correct players in the game and taking out the second string. I forced a smile as they left the room, waiting for Mr. Albertson to continue.

  Once the door closed, Mr. Albertson clasped his hands together. “I will agree to close this transaction on one condition.”

  My heart fell into my stomach. What more could he possibly want? For me to stay away from Quinn so his daughter could remain in his bed? Immediately I pushed that thought from my head – that was ludicrous. His daughter was drop-dead gorgeous; she could have any man she wanted and didn’t need Daddy to run interference. Besides, if she wanted Quinn she could damn well have him and probably already did. My mind raced. Whatever it took to get the deal signed so I could move on and get the hell out of this shithole of tropical humidity.

  “What is it?” I asked, ready to give up a kidney to get out of Destin.

  “Once I deed the land over
to your company I won’t have any control over development. The county, however, still has to approve it. I have many friends on the board. I can see to it that your plans are pushed all the way through. Given the green light. I know Henri well enough to understand the implications.”

  Okay, I knew that Albertson was a powerful man in Destin. This bit of news didn’t surprise me at all.

  “Of course, that can go the other way too,” he continued. “Henri still needs me.”

  “Of course,” I agreed. This wasn’t a revelation. It had all been discussed during the cost benefit analysis phase.

  “I just want one thing in exchange,” he said, eyes searching mine.

  “Name it,” I said, confident in my professional prowess and ability to deliver.

  “I want you to come work for me,” he said with grace and purpose. As if he’d just asked to have lunch instead of moving states away from my home and giving up everything to live and work beside a man who’d played me and shattered my heart.

  Twice.

  My mouth fell open in a perfect oval shape and I couldn’t spit any words from my parched throat. I grabbed a bottle of water from Cassie’s tray, twisted the cap and took a gulp. The cool liquid slid down to my stomach where a thousand butterflies had congregated, doing a fluttering dance on my innards. I was floored. I didn’t think I’d heard him correctly.

  “I’m not going to be around much longer,” he continued on a long-suffering sigh. “I’m tired and I should have retired five years ago. My daughter has no interest in real estate, despite her little barb earlier. She’s just here to get a paycheck until she settles down. I want someone I can trust to manage the Albertson Family Holdings. There is a lot of valuable real estate involved. Billions.”

  “But…but you have Quinn,” I managed to squeak out. My mind raced and wouldn’t land in one place.

  “And he’s a fine attorney,” Mr. Albertson rushed to defend Quinn. “He’ll stay on with the company in a legal capacity. But I need someone to oversee the real estate holdings. Buying and selling. I’m really impressed with what I’ve seen from you this week and your reputation precedes you. Henri can’t stop singing your praises like some kind of afflicted canary. You are a talented negotiator. You have a good handle on the real estate and property management business. Obviously, Henri wouldn’t have sent you to Destin alone to close such a big deal if he didn’t believe in you. He would have come himself. I need someone like that. Someone I can believe in to get the job done.”

  My mouth was so dry I could barely get the words out so I downed half my bottle of water. “You asked Henri if you could hire me? What did he say?”

  Mr. Albertson chuckled. “Heavens no, Ms. Jansen. That’s up to you.”

  “So if I don’t agree to come work for you, the deal is toast?”

  “Burnt toast,” he chuckled. “As if Cassie had learned how to operate the broiler. Done.”

  I leaned back in my chair and hissed out a breath between my clenched teeth. “I don’t think I can agree to that.”

  Mr. Albertson didn’t seem fazed as at all. “You haven’t even asked how much,” he responded.

  “How much?” I shot back without thinking. “My reluctance to work here has nothing to do with money. Atlanta is my home. I’ve built a career there. A life”

  Shit, I thought to myself, I’m playing right into his hands. I didn’t want to just uproot from my hometown and start a new life just for some extra money.

  “I’ll double your current salary. And that’s not including yearly bonuses, which I’m sure you’ll work hard to earn.”

  On second thought, Atlanta was only a six-hour drive away. I could go home once a month or two to see my parents. That’s pretty much how often I saw them now. But … Quinn lived here. Worked here. And I didn’t want to see his smug face ever again. Even for the position of my lifetime. I heard someone else’s voice speak.

  “Double my salary. Yearly bonuses. Plus ten percent of the property management fees,” I responded, surprising Albertson almost as much as myself. The negotiator in me had quicker reflexes than I thought, even on autopilot. I hadn’t even considered my next move, the words had ticker taped across my brain on reflex.

  Damn. I was good.

  Albertson guffawed, but recovered quickly. The man was no slouch in the negotiating department, either. “Three percent of the management fees.”

  “Five and you have a deal.”

  Albertson stuck out his hand without another word.

  I kept my hand on the table. “Before we shake on it, I have a couple of stipulations,” I said. I couldn’t make the deal before I was sure I had total control over the outcome. Henri taught me that.

  “Shoot,” he said with a grin, showing straight white teeth, stark against his tanned skin. His eyes twinkled with youth and vitality. Mr. Albertson was still a looker even at his age. It was as if he anticipated my request.

  “I can’t start work for another forty-five days. I have some things in Atlanta percolating that I won’t abandon and my brother’s wedding is next week. That will give me time to plan.”

  “And?” he asked.

  My heart skipped a beat. “You can’t tell Quinn or anyone else until after I sign my contract and start. I think we can both agree it’s the best course of action, lest we complicate matters. And I want my office as far away from his as possible. Tell him to stay out of my hair. I’ll consult with him on contracts when it’s necessary to the integrity of a deal.”

  “I can live with that,” Mr. Albertson conceded and held out his hand again.

  I clasped his warm one within my own. “Okay. Then we have a deal.”

  With a nod and a firm handshake, my life was set on course for drastic changes. Albertson patted my shoulder and winked, and quietly left to retrieve Quinn so we could make the hotel deal official.

  I was still trying to wrap my head around what’d just happened. In less than two months I would be an official employee of Albertson Developments. I would live in a relaxing paradise and still whet my appetite for adrenaline negotiating real estate deals…with the guy who took my virginity and crushed my heart not once, but twice.

  What in the hell had I just done with my rash words?

  Quinn came back in the room trailing Albertson. Cassie was nowhere to be found and I welcomed her absence. Quinn raised his eyebrow at me as he sat next to Albertson again. “I hear we have a deal.”

  “We do,” I said. Saying nothing more. Not willing to appease his curiosity in any way. Not willing to concede anything to him. Quinn Andrews was no longer my problem.

  Albertson took the sheaf of papers from me. In the pile were two sales contracts: one for the existing hotel, the other for the vacant land.

  “You’re sure I don’t need to look over the paperwork again since they’re contracts? Binding legal documents?” Quinn asked Albertson. “There weren’t any changes?”

  Albertson slapped Quinn on the back. “It’s all good, Quinn. I already told you. I wanted to have a little chat with Miss Jansen about a couple of things. Nothing that concerns the deal. Or you.”

  Quinn slowly shook his head at the polite admonishment while giving me the stink eye. It was a look as if to say, I don’t know what you are up to Ashton Jansen, but I don’t like it.

  All I could do was sit there and smile. Good. Let him wonder what his boss had up his sleeve. I knew it bothered the crap out of him because I could see those wheels spinning in his little pea brain so fast steam started to escape his ears. He was probably trying to figure out how he was going to extort information out of Albertson. Well, I had news for him. Not gonna happen.

  Sunny days, warm beaches, and turquoise blue waters … here I come. Working with Quinn would be a minor annoyance but I’d make it through. Because the boon of working here would be worth his irritating presence in the end. The pros far outweighed the cons in my mind. My analytical brain had made the decision for me the moment it had heard the terms of Alberton’s Godfather offe
r.

  I drummed my fingers on the table while Albertson signed. Each time he signed at the bottom of the page he would hand it to Quinn. Quinn would scan the page with scorn in his eyes, as if he were a detective looking for blood spatter. Thirty minutes later, we were done. Quinn couldn’t find anything out of place. Our arrangement completed, I breathed a hefty sigh of relief.

  “I’ll just make the copies and we can call it a day.” Quinn stood to leave. But Albertson jumped up to stay him.

  “You stay here with Miss Jansen. I’ll have Cassie make copies.” Albertson turned his attention to me and winked as he held out his hand for another firm shake. “Thank you again, Miss Jansen. It was a pleasure working with you. Until we meet again”

  Quinn waited a beat until Albertson left the room. “What the hell was that all about?”

  I picked at a hangnail and shrugged.

  None of your damn business. Maybe you should call Cassie in here and ask her to talk to her father.

  “Okay, you’re obviously not going to tell me,” he sighed and ran a hand through that thick head of black hair. “Let’s talk about this morning. Where did you go?”

  “Back to my hotel.”

  “No note?” he asked, irritation lacing his tone.

  “I thought your whore spoke English.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”

  “Cassie Albertson, your personal chef,” I spat. “She seemed very concerned about the lack of healthy fare in your refrigerator.”

  “Why would she care?” he asked. “Ashton, you’re not making sense here.” His confused tone almost sounded sincere.

  “She was at your house,” I said, matter-of-factly. “Bright and early. Dressed to the nines in a designer maxi, full face of make-up and enough food to feed ten people. By the way, what she has on now isn’t what she had on when I met her this morning.” I leaned back and crossed my arms over my heaving chest.

  Let’s now pause to enjoy your bullshit answer to that, dipshit.