Saved by a SEAL (Hot SEALs Book 2)

by Cat Johnson

  The reminder erased a bit of the skepticism etched into George’s face.

  Even if they’d somehow missed the media reports of the event when it had happened back in 2009, most knew Captain Phillips’s name, thanks to Hollywood’s dramatized version, inaccuracies and all.

  Cautiously encouraged, Zane continued. “Same thing for the bank taken over and blown up by a single armed hostage-taker wearing a suicide vest a few weeks ago. Did you see that in the news?”

  “I read something about it in the paper.”

  “Well, I was there. On site. I saw firsthand the police and S.W.A.T. team screw up because those in charge weren’t prepared for the situation they had on their hands.”

  More than just being on site, Zane, Rick, Jon and Chris had been the first men inside the bank after the blast. Before the first responders, even before the dust had settled, because Rick’s sister Darci and Jon’s girl Ali were inside when it exploded.

  “Dad, I stood by and watched that building blow knowing my teammates and I could have prevented it from happening if we’d been allowed to.”

  “And that has to do with this how?” He tipped his head toward the open binder.

  “Our hope is that GAPS can prevent attacks from ever happening just by our presence. But even if we’re not there prior to an attack, we can be called in and act as a quick reaction force to resolve the situation before it blows up—literally.”

  George flipped back to the front page where the names of the principal partners were listed, Zane among them. “And what role would you play in this?”

  “I’d be part owner as well as an operative.”

  “An operative?”

  “Yes.” Zane nodded, happy to answer his father’s questions. His interest was a good sign. “I’d work on any jobs we’re hired for.”

  “And the Navy would allow this?”

  “They’d have no say in it after I turn in my separation papers.”

  His father’s brows rose again at that revelation, his usual poker face failing him. “So you’d be leaving the military?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When?”

  “At the end of my current contract. A few months from now.” Zane watched for a reaction, but after his initial surprise, his father had tamped down any emotions showing in his expression.

  “And why haven’t you gone to a bank for a loan?”

  “You know I don’t have the kind of collateral we’d need for a loan this size. My partners and I have been living off military pay for the last ten plus years.”

  Zane hoped that zinger struck a cord with the man who had cut him off from the family holdings with one call to the lawyer a decade ago. Though, given he’d come groveling to convince him to fork over a million dollars, he should probably be a little less confrontational.

  “Why are the startup costs so high?” Georgie frowned down at one page.

  Zane let out a laugh. “Did you see the breakdown of the equipment costs just for each of our basic kits? That’s over half a million right there for only four of us.”

  “And all of this supposedly necessary equipment is currently provided to you by the US Navy?”

  Zane didn’t consider weapons, ammo or ballistic plates a supposed necessity, but he nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “So perhaps you should stick with them.”

  His ace in the hole had been his willingness to quit the Navy. If his father didn’t go for that, he had nothing. Heart pounding, Zane tried to play it cool. “I thought you wanted me to quit.”

  “Honestly, after all these years, I don’t care what you do.”

  “Don’t you?” Zane reeled from his father’s one-eighty, but he’d been too well schooled in hiding his thoughts and emotions to let it show.

  He reminded himself that George was a master at playing the game himself. Hiding what he really wanted was what had made Alexander Investments a success. His father was bluffing. If he could do it, so could Zane.

  “The truth is, you’re right. I can stay in the Navy for another ten years if I want, and I probably will if you pass on this.” Zane shrugged and let out a laugh. “Headquarters will be relieved actually. Losing me and Jon at the same time, after they’ve invested so much time and money in us, would be a blow to the team.”

  “Doubtful. There will always be a fresh crop of idiots lining up. All of them ready and willing to take your place.”

  “You’re right about that.” Zane nodded, though the slight had his pulse quickening. He drew in a breath and held it before releasing it to slow his heart rate. “It’ll only take a new enlistee fresh out of boot camp five months to get through BUD/S. If he makes it through that, then he’ll have to put in a few years active duty as a SEAL before, if he’s selected, he can try out for Green Team. If he makes it, it’s only nine more months of training to get him mission ready. He won’t have my combat experience right off the bat, of course, but hey, he’ll learn. Give him a few more years with DEVGRU, doing what I do and yeah, he’d be my equal.”

  None of what Zane had said was secret. Any internet search and more than a few autobiographies would reveal the steps necessary to reach the level Zane had.

  George scowled at the lecture. “I’m very aware of the time and energy you’ve devoted simply to spite me.”

  “Good. Then it wasn’t in vain.” Zane smiled.

  Maybe he had gotten to his father after all. But shit, this meeting had gone downhill fast.

  “So you show up wanting something, but what are you willing to give me in return?”

  “I’ll be getting out of the military, like you’ve always wanted.”

  George shrugged. “You’d have to do that eventually anyway. Aren’t you getting a little old to be jumping out of planes?”

  “No, and when I am I can become an instructor. Hell, I can go to thirty years easily before I retire.” He’d do it too, just out of spite.

  “Let’s say I decide to invest in this GAPS. . .”

  Zane tamped down his hope and nodded. “Yes?”

  “I’d want fifty-one percent ownership.”

  “No. Forty percent.”

  “You want a million dollar investment in nothing more than an idea in a binder for less than controlling interest? Tell me, what would the four of you be bringing to the company in exchange for your sixty percent?”

  “Over fifty combined years of training and experience. Some of the best available in the world attained at a cost to the US military that far exceeds your investment. But I can have Jon do the research and come back with an exact figure of our dollar value if you’d like.”

  “If I invest, there’d be another condition, as well.” Amazingly, George didn’t counter against the sixty-forty split, but moved on.

  Zane had no doubt his father would attach something to this deal. The devil always demanded his due. “A condition? Which is?”

  “Do you remember Missy Greenwood?”

  Zane frowned and pawed through his memories. “The state senator’s daughter?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “What about her?”

  “If I give you the money, you’re going to date her. And eventually, ideally, you’re going to marry her.”

  Zane’s mouth dropped open, before he managed to close it.

  “Problem?” George asked.

  “Yes.” Zane’s voice rose higher. He cleared his throat and continued. “A few.”

  “Are you already married?”

  “No, Father. I’m not.” Bad blood or not, he’d have at least informed his father of his marriage. The bastard should realize Zane would never keep something that important from his mother.

  George lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Then I see no problem.”

  There were too many issues wrong with this scenario to list—chief among them that Zane didn’t want to date Missy, or to marry anyone. At least not for a good long while. He liked his bachelor life just the way it was.

  Luckily, there were many other co
mplications for him to cite. “For one, what if Missy doesn’t want to date me? And even if I do ask her out and she says yes, what’s to say she’d marry me?”

  “You’re a good looking boy. When you’re not acting like a child I believe you can be very charming if you’d set your mind to it.”

  “So I’m supposed to charm a woman I’m not in love with into marrying me? For you.”

  “That about covers it.” George gave a single nod.

  Zane was baffled. Of all the things his father could demand he do for this money, this was the dead last thing he would have guessed. “Why?”

  “For reasons you don’t need to know. You’re a soldier. You should be used to following orders without understanding your superiors’ reasons behind them.”

  Typical George, painting everyone the same color with one wide swath of his brush.

  “I’m not a soldier. I’m in the Navy. Remember?” Zane ignored George’s presumption that he was Zane’s superior and corrected the other fallacy.

  “That doesn’t change anything.” George shrugged.

  Maybe Georgie was right. It didn’t matter. If he was willing to fork over a million dollars in exchange for Zane asking Missy Greenwood out and pretending he liked her, then so be it.

  “I want it in writing.” If there was one thing Zane had learned in his thirty years on this earth, it was to not trust his father.

  The older man nodded. “Consider it done.”

  “And you do realize that the investment can’t be contingent upon our actual marriage? Only upon my trying. She could be in love with someone else for all I know. That won’t be my fault if she is. The company still gets the startup money. I want that in the contract.”

  His father smiled. “All right, but the effort you expended, should you fail, will have to be evaluated.”

  Suspicious at George’s quick agreement, Zane asked, “Who would be that determining entity?”

  “A neutral third party. A professional arbitrator, if you’d like.”

  “Of my choice?”

  “If that will make you feel better, then yes.” George nodded.

  Zane didn’t like his father’s compliance. Or his smile. That, above all else, was the most unnerving. George was the kind of man who didn’t smile often and when he did it was usually when he’d just crushed an opponent.

  It didn’t matter what George wanted, or what Zane did, there was another element that neither one of them controlled. “I still don’t think Missy will agree.”

  “I always knew you were stubborn, but now I’m beginning to believe you’re stupid, as well.”

  Zane’s eyes widened at the insult. He’d been away from his father for long enough to forget exactly how abrasive the man could be. “Excuse me?”

  “The girl followed you around the country club like a puppy until you left for your little Navy adventure.”

  Zane pressed his lips together to hold in a retort to that slight. “Yes, she did. But she was barely a teenager then and I haven’t seen her since.”

  “She’s still single. In fact, she’s never even had a serious boyfriend, from what I’m told. What does that tell you?”

  “That you’ve become a stalker?”

  “It says that she’s ripe for the picking. It’s perfect timing for an old flame to come back into her life and sweep her off her feet.”

  This poetic fairytale bullshit coming out of George’s mouth was enough to turn Zane’s stomach. And that’s exactly what it was—bullshit.

  “There was never any flame. She’s five years younger than me. She was a kid when I knew her. Missy followed me around because there was nothing else to do besides watch our parents get drunk on martinis after playing golf or tennis.”

  “We’ll see.” George picked up the phone. “Amy, please write down Missy Greenwood’s contact information and give it to Zane. He’s on his way out. Thank you.”

  “I’m leaving?”

  “Yes, you are. I have another meeting and you have a date to arrange.”

  “And you have a contract to have drawn up for us both to sign.”

  “I’ll contact my lawyers. Until it’s prepared, your calling on Missy will be a show of good faith on your part.”

  Zane could be sure of his own good faith. It was his father’s he was skeptical about.

  “All right.” Zane held up his hand as his father stood. “But if I get recalled, before or even during the date, you do understand I’ll have to leave? I’m still bound by my responsibilities.”

  George lifted one shoulder. “Put in for official leave.”

  “It doesn’t exactly work that way. Leave or not, if they need me, I have to go.” Zane was pushing the limits even being here now. If he were recalled, it would be a scramble to get back to base in the allotted time.

  “Just do your best, son.”

  Son. How long had it been since his father had called him that? All the term did was increase Zane’s resentment. Apparently, his father only considered him his son when Zane agreed to do what he wanted.

  Zane let out a breath. It was no use dwelling on something he couldn’t change. He’d gotten what he’d come for—a promise of the money for GAPS. That was all that mattered. “All right. Call me when the contract’s ready.”

  “I’ll have a copy messengered to you.”

  God forbid his father pick up a phone to call his son. Zane resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

  “Fine.” He turned for the door and left his father’s office without a goodbye.

  “Here you go.” Amy smiled and held out a small piece of paper as he neared her desk.

  “Thanks, Amy.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled wide, and actually looked sincere doing it. “Have a good day.”

  “Thanks. You too.”

  How the woman could work with his father for all these years and still be able to smile was beyond him. They must pay her really well. It was the only thing he could figure, but he couldn’t devote more than a brief moment pondering Amy’s life. He had a girl he hadn’t seen in ten years to call and ask out.

  Pocketing the paper with Missy’s phone number written on it, Zane strode to the door.

  Maybe—hopefully—he’d get called in. Somewhere far for a mission that would take a very long time, but not until after the contract was signed and the cash deposited into the GAPS bank account, of course.

  In the elevator, he typed out a quick text to Jon.

  Waiting on the contract but it looks like we got it.

  After hitting send, he continued to hold the phone, debating whether or not to call Missy.

  The elevator doors slid open and helped make the decision for him as he strode toward where he’d parked the car. Besides, Zane knew Jon and chances were good he would call to talk the moment he read the text. Zane could call Missy later. If he wanted that money, he had to.

  He slid into the driver’s seat. Next stop, the house he’d grown up in and his mother.

  Zane’s cell rang barely a minute after he’d hit send, and he didn’t have to look at the readout on the screen to know who it would be.

  True to form, Jon had no patience. His friend was incapable of waiting. It’s amazing all the sit-around-and-wait they did on the team hadn’t driven the man crazy. That trait was exactly what made Jon so fun to fuck with.

  “Hello?” Zane answered the phone with a question in his tone.

  “Tell me everything.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Jon. You just texted me. Zane, what the hell—”

  Zane’s chuckle put an end to Jon’s rant.

  Jon sighed into the phone. “All right. Stop messing around and tell me what happened. Were you serious? There’s a contract?”

  “Not yet, but there will be.”

  “So that means he agreed to invest.”

  “He did.”

  “The full one million?” Jon’s excitement sounded tempered with a good bit of shock.

  “Yes, but in excha
nge for forty-percent of the company. It’s a big chunk, but at least it leaves us with controlling interest.”

  “That’s fine. Whatever he wants is fine.”

  Zane rolled his eyes, glad he’d chosen to come alone. Hell of a negotiator Jon would have been. He would have given the whole damn company away. Then they’d all be working for his father, God help them.

  “So how long?” Jon asked.

  “I hope soon. With any luck he’ll have something for me to sign tomorrow. I’m going to hang here at least for tonight, unless we get called in.” It wouldn’t kill him to sleep under his father’s roof for one night . . . probably.

  That would also give him time for the required show of good faith—the date with Missy.

  “So that will be it then? A signed contract and we’re good to go?”

  “That’s it.” A signed contract and Zane’s bachelorhood, if his father had his way.

  Zane kept that little detail to himself. Georgie was his problem to handle, not Jon’s.

  “Wow. I can’t believe it’s going so smoothly. Just like you said it would.”

  “Yup. Smooth sailing.” Zane sighed, the note with Missy’s phone number on it weighing heavily in his pocket.

  CHAPTER 3

  Missy Greenwood surveyed the selection of clothing in the walk-in closet and shook her head. Most of what she owned was totally inappropriate for her trip.

  What she needed was a good pair of sturdy boots, cargo pants and about a dozen plain cotton shirts. What she had was a closet full of cocktail dresses and racks filled with designer shoes that hurt after wearing them for an hour.

  She turned at the knock on the bedroom door. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Maria rolled Missy’s largest piece of luggage through the door.

  “No, Maria. Not the big suitcase. Ask Jorge to take down the smallest carry-on from the attic.”

  “Just a small one for three months?” A frown creased the maid’s brow. “Miss Greenwood, that’s not going to be enough.”

  “It’s going to have to be. In fact, if there’s a duffle bag or a backpack up there, bring that instead. Do you understand what I mean? A small bag I can carry on my shoulder.”