“It won’t happen again,” I whispered, looking down at my feet.
“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” He sat back down, “I have another meeting in ten minutes, so we will have to cancel our lunch today. Maybe next time you can be here when I tell you to. ” He picked up the report he’d set down when I’d walked in. “I’ve already arranged with my assistant to bring me a sandwich. At least she can keep a schedule.”
Exhaling and slowly raising my eyes to his I said, “I wanted to discuss some ideas I had about that new drug you are developing...” Deep breath in and... exhale. Straightening my shoulders, I stood taller, trying to make him see me. “I really think there are some great directions you can go with it. My chemical engineering teacher was telling us about some beta testing they are doing in Europe-”
“No, I don’t think so.” He cut me off with a flick of his wrist. “I have to work.” His voice was terse, biting off the ends of his words and looking at me with disdain. “Someone in this family has to play their part.”
I had offered to get a job and pay my own way through school, to supplement Mom’s money (Columbia was expensive), but Dad said it would look bad if his daughter had to work. One of my teachers had even offered me a job working two nights a week in his bioengineering lab. It would have given me great experience in the highly competitive field, but Dad had vetoed that idea. He didn’t want me driving around after dark.
He flicked his eyes in my direction. “Leave your keys with my assistant Nikki on your way out. Ask her to call Vic at the auto-body shop. He can tow your car there and then we can discuss the damage.”
“Thank you, Dad. I appreciate your help with the car.”
He sneered at me. “I am not doing it for you, Kinsey. I have to fix it before I can sell it.”
My eyes shot up to his again. “What do you mean, sell it?” I sputtered. What is he talking about? That’s my car! He can’t possibly be talking about taking Adele! Yes, I named my Mini Adele, and she was beautiful.
“I’ve been too easy on you, Kinsey. I think it’s time for you to grow up.” He nodded his head as if agreeing with himself and turned away from me like our annoying business transaction was finally complete.
“But Dad, what about my car?” I pleaded, leaning across his desk.
For a moment, I didn’t think he had even heard me, but then he sighed. “Kinsey, you have refused to act like a Hendrix, so we are done here.”
“Dad!” What does that mean? What is he talking about? “Dad?!” Tears streamed down my face. I didn’t know what to do. My hands tugged faster at the bottom of my shirt.
“You wanted to be a normal college student. Well, now you are. It’s time you learned how to take care of yourself.” He flicked his wrist at me again, and like any other nuisance in his life, I was dismissed.
Picking up the phone, he dialed four digits. “Nikki, please take Kinsey’s car keys and show her out.”
I gaped at him. My brain froze. Sure, we had our differences. Sure, I’d had some problems, but wasn’t that what college was for? Wasn’t I supposed to be using that time to grow up? “Dad, how can you do that?!” My voice rose. “That’s my car! You can’t take Adele!”
He set the phone down and addressed me one last time. “A year from now, we can discuss your place in this family again. For now, you are on your own.”
And just like that, I was no longer a Hendrix.
I knew Dad had plans for me, and once I was married to someone appropriate, someone he approved of, my life would mirror my mother’s: managing an elite household, throwing dinner parties, raising the requisite children, and looking good on my husband’s arm. I wanted an out from that, and I had hoped college would help me make my escape. I had dreamt of graduation, a good job, and throwing his expectations back at him, but he was deviating from my plan and not in a good way.
A disgraced departure was not how I would have chosen to escape that life and his plans for me. At no point was I supposed to be separated from the Hendrix family or the Hendrix fortune. I wasn’t supposed to be forced out with nothing but the clothes on my back. His reaction and my sentence seemed a bit extreme for a car accident and a late lunch.
“Dad!” Livid, my body vibrated, and I could hear blood pounding in my ears.
“It’s final, Kinsey.” He thundered, “You may go now.” And just like that, the icy, unflappable Noah Hendrix, III was back.
Normally, he was emotionless. I often referred to him as The Robot. He never showed affection or any other emotion. Rarely did he lose his cool. He straightened his cuffs, put his reading glasses back on, and returned to his report. I, his minor inconvenience, was no longer his daughter and, therefore, no longer his concern.
“That’s fine!” I shouted. “I don’t need you or your money! I’ll be just fine on my own! This is New York City after all. A Hendrix can ride the subway. I’ll finish school without your help!” Quickly turning, I swept out the door. Anger overtook my sadness. I didn’t want him to see my tears—he’d have seen them as weakness.
Running out of the office, I realized what I’d said, and I full-on panicked. First no car, and now I need a job? I was barely 21 with no skills, no employment history, and no family support. What on Earth am I going to do?
Chapter 2
Mason
Sunlight streamed through a gap in the blinds and woke me shortly after sunrise. Tangled up in silk sheets, I rolled onto my back and scratched my stomach, my hand idly tracing the line of dark hair leading from my belly button under the sheet. Stretching and yawning, I rolled out of bed and rubbed the stubble on my chin. I really need to shave.
I grabbed my pajama pants from the back of a chair where I’d tossed them the night before and pulled them on before padding out of the master bedroom and into the kitchen. One time I’d made the mistake of wandering out there naked on a day the cleaning lady was scheduled. I had never heard anyone scream so loudly in my life.
My cleaning lady came in twice a week so it wouldn’t look like I lived in an expensive frat house. When I got busy working, I tended to forget my beer bottles and pizza boxes, although over the years, she’d trained me to do the basic picking up after myself. I’d heard one too many lectures about leaving my underwear on the floor. I couldn’t bear another diatribe on how, “No woman will ever put up with this!” After that my dirty clothes made it into the hamper, and my beer bottles and pizza boxes found their way to the trash. She hadn’t given me a good tongue lashing in months, so I must have been doing better.
Ding! My phone went off. With a sigh, I changed direction to where I’d left it charging in on the kitchen counter. I guess it’s time to start the day.
Mom: Don’t forget dinner at Mark’s at five.
Ding!
Mom: Bring wine.
Ding!
Mom: Don’t be late!
Me: Yes, Mom.
I rolled my eyes. Some days, I think she forgets I’m a grown man. She’s a great mom and a strong, determined woman. She had to be to raise two rambunctious boys after losing Dad so early.
When our father died, she put his research into storage and held onto his patents while she worked two jobs. She powered through, waiting for Mark to finish college and get it together enough to take over. None of that could have been easy, but she did it. She did it for Mark, and she did it for me.
The smell of coffee wafted through the condo and tore me away from my musings as I gazed out at the dawn sky spreading across the waking city. One of my favorite things in the condo was the fancy gizmo coffee maker my designer had found. She’d created the perfect masculine space full of leather, steel, and clean lines. Gray, black, and white dominated every room, with just a touch of color. The space-age coffee maker with its built-in timer fit perfectly into her ultra-modern design concept.
My condo reflected me; it was my sanctuary. Walking into the living room, a wall of glass stretched from one wall to another. There were no curtains and no blinds between me and the
new day. I’d designed the office building the same way. I don’t like things separating me from the rest of the world. I like to see the city, feel the heartbeat of New York. I get my best ideas looking out and over the bustling chaos.
I followed the enticing aroma of coffee back to the kitchen, imagining that first scalding sip of precious brew as my eyes fell across the photographs decorating the walls. The stark, clean black and white lines were reminiscent of Ansel Adams or Clyde Butcher. My photos were a glimpse into how I saw the world.
I started taking pictures with my dad’s old Hasselblad camera when I was a teenager. At first it was a way to be closer to him, but then I started to like it. My high school and college photography teachers all told me I had a good eye and encouraged me to exhibit and sell my work, but I preferred to keep it private. I gave copies of my best photos to Mark and Mom, but most of it was there on the walls just for me. Photography brought me peace.
When I needed to work out a problem, I would pull on my old leather jacket, throw a ball cap on my head, grab my camera, and roam the streets of New York. If something caught my eye, I would explore the lines and textures through the camera lens. Usually by the end of the night, whatever problem my brain was working on would have worked itself out, and I would have a couple amazing shots to celebrate with back home in my safe space.
Padding into my closet with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, I appreciated the time my decorator had put into organizing my clothes. It was functional, utilitarian. Everything had its place.
I didn’t bring women here. If I decided to go home with a woman, we went to her place. That way there was no awkwardness getting her to leave in the morning. I could just come back here. I didn’t have to spend the night at her place, either. I got dressed and left in the dark. There were no expectations of waking up together, no confusion about long-term relationships.
I really liked my life. There was no need to change.
Kinsey
On the elevator ride down to the ground floor, I wiped my eyes and hiccuped as I tried to get myself under control. Pulling my large sunglasses down to hide my misery, I dug deep inside myself and pulled up a teary smile. I stalked though the lobby and out the glass doors, projecting a strength and determination I really didn’t feel. Inside, I was crushed. I couldn't believe he’d really cut me off.
I stood out on the sidewalk watching bright yellow cabs zigzag in and out of traffic. Millions of cars hurried all around me, every single one driving through the shadow of the towering Hendrix BioTech building. They’re all heading toward something.
I felt lost, adrift in a sea of humanity. I had no one. Of the hundreds of buildings visible in the distance, not one housed anyone who cared if I even made it home. The sounds of car horns washed over me as I listened to the people yelling and tires squealing. Smelling smog, feeling the oppressive summer heat on my face, I wondered, What the fuck am going to do?
I raised my hand to hail a cab, but then I remembered I needed to start saving my money. My hand fell slowly to my side as dozen taxis cross in front of me. My feet were glued to the curb.
I’d told Dad I could ride the subway, so ride the subway I would. I no longer had extra funds to pay for cabs. Reaching into my pocket, I slid out my phone and pulled up a map to look for the closest subway station.
Glancing across the street as I started walking, I caught a glimpse of a handsome man crossing in my direction. He was a little taller than my dad and had an athletic build with broad shoulders. A hint of stubble shadowed his strong jawline, and his jet black hair was precision cut like that of a corporate executive. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his mirrored sunglasses, but I wanted to. I was drawn to his physicality.
As we passed, he pulled off his shades. I looked him straight in the eye and smiled. The admiring gaze he gave me, his brown eyes sparkling, was the first bright spot in a truly sucky day.
Mason
Stepping off the curb to meet my Town Car after yet another meeting with my accountant, I noticed a cute blonde across the street. She was petite with a gorgeous body, full lips, and sunglasses that hid her eyes. Stumbling as the heel of her stilettos caught in a pothole, she let out an inventive curse—something about the son of a monkey. It made me chuckle. She sounded like a firecracker. Maybe if Mom sent someone like her my way, someone with a creative spark instead of perfectly bland Stepford wives, I’d be interested.
I glanced down at my watch and realized I had some time to stop and see Noah before I had to pick up a bottle of wine and head to my brother’s for dinner. Watching the fiery blond disappear into an endless stream of pedestrians, I dialed his number.
“Noah Hendrix.” He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, Noah! How are you?”
“Mason! Good to hear from you. I’m sitting here, working on a stack of contracts. I’ve got several new clients, and they all want these yesterday.”
“Hey man, that’s good news. Business must be booming. Why don’t you sound happy about it?”
Noah sighed. “The day has been intense, and I still have a ton of work to do.”
I pictured him sitting at his desk, shaking his head, and mussing his perfectly combed hair with one hand. Noah was always meticulously put together. His nickname in the business world was Ice Man. It wasn’t like him to sound shook up, and I wondered what was fueling this stress. Nothing could ruffle his feathers... except his daughter.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” I said. “You’ll figure it out. You need a break. Do you have time for lunch?”
“No. I’ve got to finish these contracts. I’ll be eating lunch at my desk. Today’s… issues… have put me way behind. I’ll be here all night.”
“Good luck,” I said, wishing I had some wise words to offer. “Give me a holler later this week, and we can catch up.” I looked up at the massive offices of Hendrix BioTech. No lunch with Noah today.
On bright side, I could head back to my offices and get a couple hours of work in before joining the family at Mark’s for dinner.
I walked up the stone path to Mark’s house admiring his cozy home. Laurie had dragged him to dozens of estate sales to find well-made antiques to decorate the house in a comfortable cottage style. The rooms all had high ceilings, giving the spaces an open, airy feel. Combined with a sprawling backyard, it was the complete opposite of the tiny cracker box overlooking a four story fire escape they had first lived in.
When Laurie got pregnant, they’d decided they needed to move out of the city. After months of searching while Laurie got bigger and bigger, he’d found the five-bedroom colonial in Upper Montclair, New Jersey. Only a few blocks from a train station that took him into downtown New York, it was the perfect place to settle.
With a population of just over 11,000, the majority of Upper Montclair’s residents were like Mark—escapees from the chaos of New York who were just looking to raise their kids with grass instead of asphalt and in spacious houses instead of high rise apartments. Most were highly-educated folks who lived in Montclair and commuted to work in the city.
“Helloooo?” I called, peering through the partially open front door.
“Mason!” Mark came around the corner with a kitchen towel tossed over his shoulder and barbecue tongs in hand. “I didn’t think you would make it!” He hollered, “Hey, Mom! Mason’s here!”
“Mark, hush! You’ll wake the kids!” Laurie’s admonishment came too late, and a low wail echoed over the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.
Waaaaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaaaaah!
She smacked Mark on the butt with a dish towel and stomped up the stairs in a huff. “You woke them. I should make you take diaper duty!”
“Love you too, hon!” Mark called up the stairs at her retreating back.
“I want my burger medium-rare!” she said.
“You got it, babe! One medium-rare burger coming right up!” He grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to me. Mark gestured a 'follow me' with his tongs as
he strutted out through the kitchen and back to the grill. “Come on. You can help me finish dinner. She’ll be hungry after feeding the twins.”
I could hear Laurie talking to the kids over the baby monitor. For a brief moment, I wondered what my life would be like if I had a family to come home to. Would it be different with a wife to snuggle up next to on the couch after a long day? Would I be happier with someone I cared about to discuss the day’s happenings with, a warm body to curl around and groan together with when the kids woke us in the middle of the night? Could love bring me something I didn’t already have?
Then I remembered—I was married to my work. How would I fit a wife and kids into my sterile condo and the ridiculous number of hours a week I spend working?
Mark seemed happy, though.
“Hey Mason, come here.” Mom stood at the sliding doors with an armful off wriggling twin on one hip. I followed the stone walkway leading from the grill to the house, “Yeah, Mom? What do you need?”
“Hold Lily for me.” She thrust the little girl into my arms. “I need to warm up a bottle for her. Laurie is nursing Lucas.”
“Wait, what?” I awkwardly took the baby from my mother and held her out in front of me. Her little legs dangled, and she chewed on one fist with her bright eyes fixed on me. I looked at my mom and then back at Lily. What exactly do you do with a baby?
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 2