Vested Interest (Flynn Family Book 3)

by Kayt Miller

  Description

  This is David Flynn's story and the third book in the Flynn Family series. It is a stand-alone with an HEA. It's David's turn to move past his evil-ex and find the woman who was made for him. He’ll be shocked to discover she's been right under his nose the whole time. Sometimes we can't see what's right in front of us.

  David Flynn has it all. Fresh out of a marriage that was marred with infidelity (hers) and misery (his) he’s got life by the cojones. He’s got a job he loves, an Assistant who has helped him move up every step of the way and a new job as Vice President in a prestigious investment management firm. It’s too bad David can’t see past his own ambitions to see the woman who has got him to this point; the same woman he’s about to let go.

  Cassandra Darrow has it all. A job she likes and a boss she loves, uh, loves to work with. Cassie and David are a well-oiled machine––a team. At least that’s what she thinks until he lets her go easily––too easily. Surely it’s not because of their little tryst in the alley outside a favorite pub. And it can’t be because she’s bigger than his usual type, can it?

  Due to coarse language and sexual content, this book is suitable for readers 18+.

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Kayt Miller

  Cover image standard license from Adobe Stock.com

  Cover Copyright © 2017 Kayt Miller

  All rights reserved.

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author @ kaytmiller1@yahoo.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Acknowledgements and Dedications

  I feel very fortunate to have an amazing group of friends and family around me who support all of my wacky ideas. I decided to write a book when I couldn’t find that one story I wanted to read. My husband, mom, and daughter all jumped in and helped me as I struggled through the first book. It took months, but I was determined to tell the story.

  While writing the first book, I thought of a few other stories, but I was still a little unsure of myself. I told only a few of my closest confidants, but after a few positive reviews and support from those closest to me, I began to share my dirty little secret on sites like Facebook and Twitter.

  Thanks to social media and word of mouth, I’ve talked to some really great people; some have even become Beta readers for me. It’s thanks to them that I feel more confident each day and I have to thank them here.

  So, thank you, Kay, Lynda, Laura, and Elizabeth.

  Without all of you, I’d be one hot mess.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Description

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements and Dedications

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue: David

  Epilogue: Cassandra

  Appendix: Hobo Symbols

  Appendix: Quotation Credits

  Also by Kayt

  Chapter 1: David

  You see that quote right there? For as long as I can remember, it’s always been my mantra. No regrets, win at any cost, and only the strong survive. Those philosophies have served me well in the ten years I’ve worked at Ingot Investment Management or IIM as everyone calls it.

  I started at the bottom as a Business Analyst right out of college. That was a coup in and of its self because the job market was in the tank back then. My boss, Lester Ingot, saw something in me that no one else had and took a chance on me. Lester Ingot is a guy who always goes with his gut. It’s what made him rich, and in my case, his gut was spot on.

  Faster than the average newbie, I moved up to Investment Banking Associate. Two years later, I was an Associate, and by age twenty-nine, I was promoted to Director. That was four years ago, and I’ve been in this spot ever since. But, after my latest deal, I’m crossing fingers that’s all gonna change, and I’ll finally be promoted to Vice President.

  Hell yeah! Fuckin’ V.P. at IIM! It’d be a major accomplishment, and it’s happening today. I feel it. The big guy upstairs. No, not that big guy. I’m talking about Lester Ingot. He’s decided to throw a little party in the office to celebrate the shit-ton of money I just made for him and for myself.

  As I peer out of my corner office, I see caterers setting up a bar and filling the long conference table with food. When Lester shells out for a bar, you know this is a big deal. The guy is cheap as fuck. I’m pretty sure he’s still got the first penny he ever made. All kidding aside, this could be it––the time Lester finally invites me upstairs to the executive floor and my dreams become a reality.

  God knows I could use a few of my dreams coming true right about now. The last few months have been a fucking nightmare. If anyone tells you divorce is easy, they’re full of shit. Well, it could be because my ex is Satan’s spawn and the greediest person I’ve ever met. Yeah, that could be it. Thankfully, the divorce was final two weeks ago Friday, right before the big payoff from this investment. I smirk thinking how Jen will react when she finds out she missed out on part of this giant bump in my bank account. She wanted to take everything, but my lawyer, a college buddy of mine, was an ace. He saw through her act and played her like a violin.

  I’ll save the rest of that drama for another day because today is all about me and the promotion I’ve wanted for three and a half years. Lester’s email message requested everyone gather in the conference room at twelve thirty. At twelve twenty, I stand and adjust my tie. I step into my en suite bathroom to check my hair and quickly brush my teeth. I take a leak, and as I zip up, I smooth my shirt down and shake my arms out at my side. “Fuck, I’m nervous.”

  “What are you nervous about?” I hear a feminine voice coming from my office.

  I stick my head into the doorway, “Shit, Cassie, you startled me.”

  “Well, you’re talking to yourself like a crazy person in there,” she giggles. “Everything is going to be perfect. You’re going to be patted on the back, congratulated, and hopefully, we’ll be promoted.” I step out of the bathroom and see my assistant smiling; no she’s beaming at me. She’s holding up a tie for me. “This one doesn’t have a coffee stain on it, David.”

  I look down at my tie and see a small dot on my light blue tie. I’ll be damned.

  “Besides,” she continues, “This is your lucky t
ie.”

  “True.” It’s a tie made using the Flynn family tartan. It’s brown with orange and a little blue running through the plaid. This tie has never let me down. Whenever I’ve needed something to go my way, I put this baby on. “Thanks, Cassandra.”

  “You’re welcome. Now,” she stands with her hands on her round hips, “You’d better get out there.” She places her hand on my back and gently pushes me out the door. “And don't drink too much. You tend to ramble when you’ve had one too many.”

  I nod as I exit, but she’s not finished.

  “Don’t eat anything with garlic.”

  I nod again.

  “Oh, and watch out for mustard or any condiments that can stain. I can just picture you with a blob of bright yellow in your white shirt.”

  “Yes, dear,” I say with a smirk. Honestly, I joke, but I don’t know what I’d do without her. I’d be lost in more ways than I can even count.

  “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she teases.

  “Grrrr,” I say with a laugh. “Thanks, Cassie. You’re going to be there, right?” Cassie hates these office parties. I’ve found her hiding in the corner on more than one occasion. If I didn’t make a point of her being there, she’d sit at her desk until the hullabaloo ended.

  “Of course, I heard they had baby quiches and cake in there and you now I never skip cake.”

  She probably means every word. Cassandra Darrow is, well, what is the politically correct way to describe it? Full figured? Plus sized? No! Curvaceous! That’s a good one. She’s definitely curvaceous with her wide bottom and enormous ti… um, breasts.

  You’d think having been married I’d be able to speak about a woman’s body with less trepidation but Cassandra is not like my ex-wife, Jennifer. Honestly, they’re complete opposites, and I’m not just referring to their bodies. Cassie is classy. Everything she does is done tastefully. She’s graceful and articulate, and I know first hand she’s smart as fuck. So, yeah, the complete opposite of Jennifer.

  Don’t get me wrong; Cassie is a beautiful woman. She’s got long dark brown hair that looks like a curtain of wavy silk. She wears it down to work, but at about ten every morning she grabs a hair doo-hickey and winds it up into some kind of complicated coil that sits near the top of her head. She always wears dresses or pencil skirts, pretty blouses, and heels––always heels. Even the times I’ve seen her in jeans, she’s wearing stilettos. It’s a good look. A very good look.

  Cassandra’s got pale skin I guess you could call porcelain. She wears makeup but not a lot of it; she doesn’t need it. Her green eyes are bright set against her thick dark lashes. But, the best part of her face is the little beauty mark that sits right above her full, pouty lips on the left side of her face. Just like Marilyn Monroe’s.

  A few times I’ve wondered what that little mark would taste like, but then I remember she’s my assistant and not my type and that I can’t or won’t think of her that way. She’s been here as long as I have––ten years. Shit, we went through orientation together. We sat next to each other for a week and made fun of the training videos together. It took only a couple of days to become good friends. Now, we’re great friends; maybe even best friends. I’d be lost without her. Did I say that already? Well, it’s worth saying twice.

  Chapter 2: Cassandra

  Oh, my goodness. I’m so nervous. This is such a huge day for us, well for David anyway. It’s the day they celebrate the windfall David made by investing in a product and company no one had even heard of before. A company David took a huge risk investing in for his clients and IIM. Being part of it all is thrilling. To know you work with someone who appreciates your skills and abilities and trusts your instincts. Yep, I got really lucky that day David and I sat together at the new employee orientation. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

  After pushing David out of the office, I use his bathroom to check my hair and makeup. I don’t regularly use his bathroom, but I don’t think he’d mind if I touch up my lipstick a little bit. “Well, this is as good as it is gonna get, Cassandra,” I say to myself. I sigh and leave his bathroom and make my way toward the party.

  Passing by empty desks, I realize that I’m going to be late. I must have lingered too long in there. I make my way into the conference room and have to squeeze past people saying ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me’ in my attempt to get my big bottom through the hoard. I can see David on the other side of the room talking to Lester Ingot and his wife, Chanel. Yes, that’s what I said, Chanel. She’s half his age and dumb as a box of rocks.

  Okay, that’s not fair. She’s nice enough, I guess. She’s always nice to David. Everyone is nice to David, especially the female persuasion. That’s because David Flynn is drop dead gorgeous with his wavy, dirty blonde hair and clear blue eyes. That’s not even the best part of David, not that I could narrow down his best part to just one. Not when he’s six feet and a couple of inches, has broad shoulders, and lots and lots of muscles.

  Couple that with his face. Holy smokes, his face. He’s got classic good looks with high cheekbones, a strong jaw that is almost always covered with a little bit of scruff. When he smiles, I melt thanks to his straight teeth. But that’s not the part that I like the most; he’s got one tooth, his canine tooth, which is turned just a tiny bit to give his smile something extra. It gives him an air of boyishness that draws the ladies like ants to a picnic.

  I’d love to tell you that I’m immune to his looks and charm, but I’m afraid that’d be a lie. Good days and bad days alike, David Flynn has my heart. When I look at him now, schmoozing with the boss, I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking of that promotion, wondering if his tie is straight, and scanning the room to see where I am. Just then, his head turns, and we make eye contact. I watch him take a deep breath and turn back to Lester.

  I think I calm him like that blanket you carried around as a kid. We began this trek together, and now here we are standing in the conference room celebrating our accomplishment. When we first started, I was in the pool. They used to call it a secretarial pool in the olden days, which just means I worked on a floor with some other secretaries and assistants who filled in when the real ones called in sick, went on vacation or left on maternity leave.

  When David was promoted to Associate, he was told he could choose an assistant from the pool. He picked me, and the rest is history, as they say. I’ve been happy working for him. It’s been wonderful, actually. Sure, by now, I could have been off doing other things, but I hate the thought of not working with him. I can’t imagine doing anything else. My thoughts are interrupted when I hear the tapping of glassware. I guess it’s time for the announcement.

  Lester Ingot has the floor, “Ladies and gentlemen, as you all know, we’re here to congratulate David Flynn on his hard work and dedication to this firm.” He chuckles when he adds, “And for making me a hell of a lot of money.”

  Everyone in the crowd laughs along with Lester.

  Lester turns to David and asks, “So, tell me,” he pauses, “No, tell us all what in the world made you invest in Alte Frau Cosmetics? I mean, no one had even heard of that company or their anti-aging breakthrough. Are you some kind of prognosticator?”

  The large group crammed into the conference room laughs again.

  I watch David chuckle at Lester’s words. He turns to the group and says, “Well, it’s not a very captivating story. I was in the doctor’s office waiting for my appointment…”

  Wait. What?

  “There must have been a backlog because my wait was inordinately long. I looked around for something to read, and the only thing they had was a copy of a magazine called Global Cosmetics,” he takes a breath just as the group chuckles.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but desperate times called for desperate measures, as they say. I picked it up and leafed through it. When I came to an article about some R and D a little-known German company based in Minnesota was doing, it piqued my interest. They were developing a new anti-aging product that sounded promising and so
mething unlike anything anyone else had produced. So, I decided to check into it.”

  I blinked and blinked trying to make sense of everything. I know my smile has faded into more of a look of utter confusion and, well, disappointment. How could he do this? Why? Why would he do this? We’re a team.

  Chapter 3: David

  As I recounted the story of how I discovered this obscure little company and its new product, I scan the room looking at my colleagues and bosses as they smile, nod, and laugh in all the right places. Then my eyes land on her––the one person in the room who knows the truth. When I see her face change from one of pride to one of, well pity, it hits me. I fucked up. Royally.

  “So, um, yeah. That’s the story. I just went with my gut and got lucky,” I say with a shrug attempting to seem modest. Something I haven’t actually felt in twenty years.

  Lester slaps me on the back, “Excellent, my boy. I love the way you do business. I even like how you go about things. Reading magazines most of us wouldn’t be caught dead reading,” he chuckles. He mumbles, “Global Cosmetics…” as he shakes his head. “Well, everyone, enjoy the food and drinks. The bar closes in twenty minutes,” he says as he walks to the door. Before he exits, he adds, “David?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on upstairs. Let’s have a chat.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say smiling. This is it! I turn to look at Cassandra, and she’s avoiding my gaze. I walk her way and watch as she rushes back through the crowd toward the door, “Cassandra?” She ignores me. What the hell? “Cassie?” I say a little louder. I work through the crowd quickly and catch her elbow as she moves out of the room. “Cassandra, wait up.”

  She turns to me and gives me her smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “