Irresistibly Undeniable

by Zoey Derrick

  “Yup.” He turns around and finds what he’s looking for before bringing the plate over to me, setting it down in front of me and I butter some up and start downing the toast. On my empty, rolling stomach, the toast is perfect. After three half slices, I dig into the eggs after pouring on the salt, and then finally the bacon. I scarf down the entire thing realizing I drank all that alcohol on an empty stomach.

  When I’m done, I have a stroke of conscious about my phone and I go back to my purse and power it on. I regret it instantly when I see missed calls, texts, but only one voicemail. I click on it and see that it’s from Dyson. Am I ready to hear his voice just yet? No, I’m not. I power the phone back down and put it back in my bag and go back to Reese who’s cleaning up our plates. While he wipes down the counter I go for the big file folder and unwind the clasp holding it together.

  There’s so much stuff stuck inside that it pretty much spills out on to the counter. Most of what’s in there is paperwork, but despite how full it is, it’s rather organized with paperclips and binder clips. I start pulling stuff out. On top is whatever Mick handed Charlie last night and I open it. There are three envelopes inside with some papers tacked to the back side of the file folder. All of the envelopes have my name on them, with the P.O. Box address. I can only assume this belongs to Mick.

  I open the first one and it is a shiny black card that says Bank of California on it with my name emblazoned in gold. The card expires four years from now. So I know the card is new. It still has the activation sticker on it. “What the hell is Bank of California?” I ask Reese.

  “Phewweeee,” he fans himself, “Girl, that’s thee bank. You have to have a ridiculous amount of assets in order to even open an account.”

  I raise an eyebrow in question at him. “How do you know that?”

  “Because, honey, I work with celebs and their moronic-ness, I see where their money comes from. So I looked.”

  I shake my head at him and set the card aside. I move on to the next one and it’s my pin number for the card. The final envelope has a note on it, but I bypass that to look inside and I see it’s another card. I open it up and it’s- “Holy fuck.”

  “What is it?” Reese says from the sink and I flip it around. “Damn, girlfriend, that’s platinum power right there.”

  It’s an American Express card. I flip over to the note. “Automatic payment established, whatever is spent on this card every month will be paid off automatically by your checking account.” My eyes go wide. “I’ve never had a credit card,” I tack on.

  “That’s not a credit card, honey, that’s a plastic party card.”

  I laugh and thumb through some of the other stuff in the folder, most of it has to do with terms of service for the credit card, then finally a full size envelope that says ‘access information’ on it. I flip the flap and look inside and I see websites, followed by user names and passwords. I make a mental note to change them all, immediately. But I get the impression that won’t stop Mick. I can at least update my address so the statements come to me.

  “So the guy, the financial dude that works for Dyson, he offered to continue handling my finances.”

  Reese whistles. “What’s that going to cost you?” I shrug. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, considering you’re going to have to have someone do it. At least if he’s been doing it already, he might as well keep doing it.”

  I go for the cards they gave me last night. They’re still in my pocket and I find Mick’s card. “Let me use your phone.”

  “You have your own,” he tells me.

  “Yes, but my phone is blowing up with all things Dyson and right now, I don’t want to talk to him.”

  Reese sighs and pulls his phone from his back pocket and hands it to me. I dial Mick’s number and put the phone to my ear, after a couple rings he answers, “Mick,”

  “Mick, it’s Ireland.”

  I hear him take a deep cleansing breath. “We’ve been looking for you.”

  “We, who?”

  “Dyson, me, your sister.”

  “I don’t want to talk about her right now. I called for another reason and I would very much appreciate it if you left this between me and you. Do not tell Dyson.”

  “I’m over keeping secrets, Ireland. I still can’t tell my wife and it’s fucking killing me.”

  “Tell your wife, I don’t care.”

  “You…you don’t?” I can hear the hope in his voice.

  “Mick, I don’t know your wife, so what do I care about whether or not you tell her. If it will make you feel better and a little less paranoid around me, then tell her.”

  “Thank you, Ireland.”

  “No problem. Now, about all this shit I’m looking at. I don’t understand three-fourths of it. Can you dumb this down for me?”

  He chuckles softly and I hear a door click closed. “Where are you?” he asks me.

  “Nice try,” I tell him.

  “Alright, I’m in my office.”

  “Where’s that?” I ask him.

  “Away from Tigress and everyone else. I work for Dyson, not Tigress.”

  “Good, now, layman’s terms, please.” I don’t even ask, I command more or less.

  “Liquid assets are obvious. You have just over nine-million in that account. It grows daily and monthly based on interest earned. Because of the amount, often times your interest is sufficient that you can live off of it without tapping the principle balance.”

  “Okay, that I understand, but Bank of California. Is there one here in Phoenix?”

  “No, but you can go to a local credit union, like Arizona Federal, and withdrawal cash. Or use the debit card and pull cash. But you’re subject to their limits. As far as everything else Tigress related, you’re non-liquid assets, like stock shares, are valued at close to thirty million.”

  “Fuck me,” I breathe.

  “Have you opened the other envelope?”

  “Nope,” I snap. “I’m not ready to go there yet.”

  “Well, what I’m going to tell you will apply to both. Should you choose to liquidate anything, just let me know, but there is more than enough for you to do whatever you want. Buy a house, anything. If you need more, we can get you more.”

  “Don’t hold your breath on that. What happens to all this money if something happens to me?”

  “That’s something you’ll need to discuss with Charlie or another lawyer, but if you go with another one, please talk to me first. I have a few friends not associated with Tigress that will work just fine for you.”

  “How much is all of what you’re doing going to cost me?”

  “It’s not. It’s included in Robert Enders…”

  “These are separate, are they not?” I cut him off.

  “They are, but they don’t have to be. If you want me too, I can combine them both and they will fall under your father’s…”

  “Don’t say it,” I snap.

  “Under Robert’s decree, the services I provide are paid for. You owe me nothing.”

  “But are you getting paid?” I ask for clarification.

  “Yes, you need not worry about it.”

  “Alright, that’s all I needed to know.

  “You really need to look at the other folder, Ireland.”

  “I’m not ready, when I’m ready I will, but not before then.”

  “Alright, but know you’re free to spend your money how you see fit. When the year is out, I will get you everything you need to file taxes,” he tells me.

  “Okay, that goes beyond the scope of what I’m prepared to discuss, so for right now, I will keep looking through everything.”

  “Don’t let it intimidate you. I know this has to be so overwhelming for you. Your sister…”

  “Stop, please. I can only deal with one thing at a time and this is all I can handle right now,” I plead with him to drop the family talk. I’m not ready to even consider it right now. I need to wrap my head around the business side of what I’m looking at before I
even fathom dealing with the other side.

  “Let me just say this. She’s ready when you are.”

  “Really?” I say, surprised. “She’s okay with all this? Because I’m sure as hell not.”

  “Surprisingly, yes, she is. I didn’t expect her to be and I’m sure she can provide you some more insight into Bobby than even I can. I think you’ll see in the long run what he did regarding you were a blessing.”

  I sigh into the phone. “Alright, I will let you know.”

  “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  “Oh, and Mick?”

  “Yeah?” His voice sounds a little more confident, a little less hesitant.

  “Tell your wife, please. I’m not a fan of secrets.”

  “Thank you, Ireland, I will.”

  “Thanks.” I hang up the phone.

  “What was that all about?” Reese asks me.

  “That other packet,” I state simply and let it go. “His services will cost me nothing.”

  “Well, that’s a perk, not that you can’t afford it, but still.” He smiles. “So what did he say?”

  “We might need more alcohol,” I tell him and then I launch into what Mick told me about the investments and whatnot. By the time I’m done, Reese just stares at me.

  “You’re a millionaire overnight. It’s like winning the lottery,” He teases, and in a way, he’s right.

  After another thirty minutes of looking at the stuff in the biggest file, my eyes are going cross and my hangover headache isn’t going away so I put it all back in the file folder and shove it aside. “I’m pretty sure all that shit is just for my records. Mick said something about getting me everything I needed to file my taxes at the end of the year so, if he’s handling it all, I guess the rest is really nothing for me to stress over.”

  My fingers tap on the other folder.

  “What are you gonna do, baby girl?” His eyes land on the folder I’m tapping.

  “Honestly? I have no clue. I’m at war with myself. On one hand, I’m angry at Dyson for what he did. But in the same token, I’m angrier that he didn’t just explain this to me earlier. Then I’m mad at myself because after he discovered I was the author of his business plan, we sat there for over four hours discussing many of the changes I would make to modernize it. I just rattled it off without even thinking about the consequences of my actions in doing so. I never even considered my opinion would be worth something, let alone, this much money.” I take a deep breath. “To make matters worse, I opened up the can of worms the other day in an unguarded moment of muttering something he caught on to about offering up free advice. He used that as a weapon against me to get me to accept the money, though I’m pretty sure I didn’t have a choice.”

  Tears form in my eyes. “I’m also mad at my mother.”

  “Why?” he asks, his face somber.

  “I want her here. I want her to tell me this is a good thing, to get over myself and go back to Dyson. But in the same vein, I’m angry because for the last few weeks, I’ve been upset. I spent so much money, everything I had almost, to get to Joplin, to help bury my mother so my brother and his wife weren’t burdened with the debt of doing so.” The tears flow more freely now. “Then we sat around that lawyer’s conference room the day before I flew back home and that lawyer sat there going through my mother’s wishes and my brother got everything. Except the house, that’s both of ours, and I got a letter.”

  “A letter? You didn’t tell me about this.”

  “I know, because I haven’t opened it.”

  “Maybe now you should?” he asks.

  “The note on the envelope was enough to put me off wanting to read it. It said something to the effect of, ‘I know you’re angry with me, but please understand that all the answers you seek will come soon’ and that’s how I opened up the doors to this.” I tap the package again.

  “What is that?” he states, and I can tell he’s growing irritated with me.

  “This is information pertaining to my father,” I confess.

  I watch Reese’s expression go from warm to cold and then back to warm again. “Isn’t he dead?”

  I shrug. “I thought he was, or rather I assumed he was. I never asked my mother. I didn’t think I had to. Dusty and I both talked about our dad like he was dead, only last night I discovered Dusty and I do not share the same father.”

  “Oh fuck.” Reese straightens up from his leaning position at the counter.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Chapter 61

  Dyson

  “She Is Love” - Parachute

  It’s been a week since Ireland stormed out of my office conference room.

  It’s been a week since I’ve let myself feel much of anything.

  It’s been five days since anyone saw activity anywhere and when we saw it; we knew what she was doing. She went off the grid with a hundred thousand in cash. The only irony behind it, she went to California to get it. I assume she did it to throw us off her trail. Or she figured it would take us longer to get to her. It was true, though Cami sent some of her security guys to the bank and it was her that claimed the cash. After that, nothing.

  My heart is lying on a floor somewhere, unmoving and completely lifeless.

  I’ve been working from home, refusing to go to the office. Andy and reception have explicit instructions to contact me if she shows up.

  I fired Wellington, and told them Ireland was no longer their employee. I give them a week before they’re filing for bankruptcy. Shelly, being the tenacious bitch she is, has tried more than a few times to get into my office to see me, but each time she gets shot down. New key swipes were added in the stairwells so her card doesn’t have access to the doors belonging to Tigress and her elevator key was restricted to just a few floors, all belonging to Wellington. After my second rejection, security finally got the hint and they don’t call me anymore.

  I haven’t slept but a few hours here and there. I miss my girl more than anything. This hurts worse than it did in high school. I need her back in my life.

  Andy and Reese are working on kindling something and I finally met Reese. Though he obviously didn’t have much like for me, he was cordial, but shot down any attempt I made at asking where Ireland is.

  Yesterday, Byron finally handed me something I was looking for. Something that shouldn’t have been as hard to get, but it wasn’t entirely easy. Dusty’s phone number and address. I figure if she’s gone anywhere, it would be Chicago. But I haven’t found it in myself to call him. Our separation, while not as long as mine and Ireland’s, has been long enough that this is going to seem awkward coming from me after all these years.

  I saw Becca moving out of the apartment when I stopped by. She gave me her key, said to give it to Ireland when I saw her. I partially blame Becca for all this and I really shouldn’t.

  “Someone paid the rent through the end of the lease,” She’d told me.

  “It wasn’t me,” I tell her. It’s true. I didn’t do it, which means Ireland did.

  “She told me to stay, that she wasn’t planning on coming back.”

  Those words were like a hot knife to my heart.

  My doorbell rings.

  I don’t jump up. I know it’s not Ireland, though I want it to be. Byron will get it. It rings again, but then I hear the alarm chime for the door.

  Then I hear voices, sounds like a female, but it’s not Ireland. They’re talking about something and I finally find my feet and get up from my desk, moving down the hallway toward the stairs and I climb down them slowly. “This was in the door,” the female says as I round the corner.

  Cami is standing there talking to Byron. She’s got her son on her hip. “You look like shit,” she tells me.

  “Thanks so much.” Byron hands me an envelope. It’s dirty, like it’s been there for a while.

  “Don’t use your front door much?” she asks. I shake my head. “Well, that was stuck in there, and I have some news.”

  “Oh?�
�� I ask her, and the hope in her voice is enough to ignite a spark of hope within me.

  “Her passport was tagged at LAX last week. Leaving.”

  “That’s not entirely good news,” I mutter.

  “Ah, but it was tagged coming back, this morning.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Chicago.” Dusty. “She have someone up there?”

  “Her brother, Dusty,” I share and I look at Byron.

  “On it, boss.”

  “You really need to let her come to you.”

  “What makes you so certain she will?” I’m spinning the letter in my hand as I look at Cami and her son. He’s nearly two and a little turd of a kid. Cami’s small frame is nearly toppled by his. It’s quite cute actually. If I were in a better mood, I’d smile.

  “Because if you go chasing after her, you’ll put her back into hiding. She’s already off the grid. But eventually she will slip up. That money won’t last forever and she’ll end up using a card or something and you’ll have a tag on her. She can’t move in and out of this country without a flag. I just don’t think she knows we’re capable of tracking her through her passport.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think you had that kind of pull.”

  She winks. “I have a whole bag of tricks up my sleeve. You need to remember, I run Bold now. You’d be amazed at what kind of trouble celebrities get into.” I shrug. “When and if she wants to come back to reality, and come back to work, she has a job waiting for her at Bold. She’s earned it. I’ve seen her grades and her thesis. Trust me when I tell you, that girl has it going on when it comes to marketing.”

  “I’m very well aware; my business runs on her plans.” Cami smiles at me and I do my best to return the smile.

  “I’m aware. Listen, if you go to Chicago, just check on her, okay? Don’t get in her face. Let her come to you. Who knows,” she points to the letter in my hand, “that might be from her.”

  I nod and she excuses herself. “She’ll come around,” she says as she leaves. I tear into the letter as soon as the shuts behind her.

  Dearest Dyson,

  I came to tell you good-bye, but you weren’t here.