Crushing

by Kelly Kay

  I sigh and cross my arms. “Continue.”

  “I never should have inserted myself into matters I had no right to be in. I got swept up in a trivial retaliation. I think you’re a remarkable shark. Your business acumen is right on, and I’m a fucking asshole. It was a game. I never meant for this to happen, especially knowing you got hurt. You have to know that I did not think for one second that this was Parker and Company business. That said, I shouldn’t have been anywhere near my father’s calendar or your event. I unwittingly revealed the beast that I am to my parents and destroyed your business all with one stupid, ignorant, petty move.”

  “Did you apologize to your parents?” I snap at him.

  “We’ve had a lot of conversations about my behavior and who I want to be in this life. Seems I’ve gotten a bit lost.”

  My lips upturn despite my hatred. Josh smiles back. I scold him a bit. “They didn’t deserve that.”

  “That relationship is between my parents and me. I appreciate your concern and devotion to them. Something I didn’t realize had developed so deeply between you all. Please bring your focus back to how I’ve treated you. If someone had done that to me, I’d burn their world down and salt the earth.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I have shit in the works. Just you wait. I will ruin something of yours. Once I figure out just exactly how your business works. And what you actually like.” His lips curl up at my joke. I’m still angry, but the idea of me ruining anything for him is absurd. And he seems to be here with an olive branch. And he doesn’t think I’m foolish. He never did.

  “I take business very seriously. I should’ve had more respect for you. You should also know that I’m an equal opportunity asshole. I would have done the same thing to a man as I did to you. The answer to your question was unscrupulous, not misogynist. Not that I’m proud of that, but I wanted you to know it wasn’t about your gender. I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. I’m heading south. No more games. No more stupid sabotage. Clearly, my parents are in the best hands.” He hands me a thick folder, and I look at him puzzled. “They’re waiting for your call. And if these people don’t take your call after tonight, please let me know.”

  He hands me his card, and on the back is a handwritten phone number. His touch still electrifies me despite what he’s done and what’s he shown me. The air once again crackles all around us. This man right here in front of me is the one I knew he could be. This Josh is the one who made sure I had a bottle of water and Advil before he left that night. The one who tucked me in at the El Dorado hotel. The one who shared stories of his childhood friends and listened to me talk about my mother. Although he is still the man who leaves, I don’t feel used anymore, but it’s best if he goes.

  He points to the handwritten phone number. “That’s my private cell. My parents have it now as well.”

  “What’s in here?”

  He nods his chin at me and smirks. “Leads. Tesla, Trader Joe’s, Seagram’s, and Conde Nast.” My jaw goes slack. “Research, key names, and numbers.”

  “Why? How?”

  “Because I owe you. I’m pretty good at business too. You’ll have to close the deals, but I have no doubt in you after watching you take me to task. There are powerful people who don’t dare speak to me the way you did, Hellcat.” My body eases as he uses his little name for me from that night. Maybe I’m not crazy. He does feel about that night the way I do. I’m so confused now.

  I can’t let him off the hook that easily. I say, “Maybe more people should speak to you like that.”

  He laughs and says, “I don’t think so, and I’d prefer you don’t do it again.”

  I curl my lips and crook my eyebrow. “I can’t promise that.”

  “I had a hunch that would be an empty request.”

  I smile at him, and it seems like the first real exchange we’ve had since we played Gin Rummy. But right now, there are no sexual motives, no vying for dominance or pretending to like each other for his parents’ benefit. Just a genuine conversation and that damn charged connection.

  He then tells me, “You have dinner at The Progress restaurant tonight. Elleole and Stuart, owners and chefs, will be there. Alena’s already there as they build out the menu with our wines. My parents will pick you up in a couple of hours. The bill, tip, and transportation of your guests have all been taken care of. Evan should be here by five.”

  I interrupt him, “Hold Up! You flew Evan here?”

  “I did. I figured you could use some moral and emotional support after I fucked you over. And if he is pissed, you need to be in the room together to work it out.” I smile at him, and he continues speaking, “All of the prospects and clients’ accommodations and return travel are taken care of. If there’s a hitch, call my office, and it will patch you to my assistant, John, who did the logistics. He’s at your disposal, day and night. As am I.”

  I’m overwhelmed. A tear builds. As it falls down my cheek, he catches it with his thumb and holds my cheek. “I don’t want to be the man I showed you and my parents. Certainly not in your eyes.”

  “I’m glad I knew a better one already existed. I think it’s why I got so angry and hurt.” He drops his hand from my face.

  “Was it the sensitive raw dogging or the ass worshiping that tipped you off that I could be this guy?”

  I laugh, and now I’m squeezing my thighs together. “It was the expert hair washing and the way you tucked me in.”

  He rolls his eyes to the sky, and his grin turns up. “I hate that I hurt you. Apology accepted?”

  “We’ll see if all of this makes it up to me. I might come up with a few more things for you to do.” I lift my eyebrows at him.

  “Hmm. For you or to you? If you didn’t have research to delve into, I’d say that might be an invitation I’d push for, but I should go. Good luck tonight, Elle. Goodbye. Take care of yourself.”

  I may have just flirted with him. Shit. “Thank you for all of this.”

  His tone turns sharp. “No. Please, don’t say thank you. It’s my mistake to rectify. I colossally fucked up.”

  I nod at him. He did. And then there’s a moment where he looks completely vulnerable. We pause and stare into each other’s eyes and for a split second it’s as if we’re a ‘we’. I blurt out, “When will you be back?”

  He answers with a small smile, “I don’t know. But call me if you need anything. Or if my parents need anything. Or if you need to talk strategy. Call for any stupid reason you can think of. I’ll be there.”

  He seems to have shifted again. This is the Josh I thought he was. He seems less angry. Maybe I can be less bitter as well.

  “I will.”

  “I hope so.” His eyes sparkle as he smiles at me.

  I grin, and as he turns down the hallway. A bellman passes him with several large boxes and bags. He turns and winks back at me. My stomach flips.

  The boxes are placed on my couch. I open the card first, and it’s a handwritten letter. His handwriting is strong, but there’s a feminine tilt to it.

  Elle,

  Slay them tonight.

  Choose either one of these dresses, but you should wear the hunter green Halston Heritage halter dress. The Dolce Gabbana metallic mini, is nice too but the Halston... And with your eyes and hair. Trust me, the Halston. MUA will be here in an hour to get you ready. And either dress will look killer on you and highlight my oft-mentioned favorite body part. I didn’t think you’d want to wear the LC/W yoga pants, but they’d get the job done as well. And one more gift, a little edge.

  Tesla likes legs, and yours are worth showing off. He’s a pig but harmless.

  Trader Joe’s can’t hold their wine, get to them early. But the wife is funny after three or four. And they want to connect with people personally. Open up a little to them.

  Conde Nast is only looking to highlight Town and Country and the bridal mags differently. They don’t want to discuss any other magazines. Don’t bring anything else up. And she’s someone who will also enjoy yo
ur legs and that ass of yours. She’s also insanely smart, you’ll be more than fine to hold your own with her. Don’t flatter her. Be your blunt self.

  Seagram’s is a hard bitch to crack; you’ll get along famously. She loves her shoes, the enclosed Louboutins are only available in Paris. She will notice. Tell her they were a gift that someone purchased at Le Printemps de l'Homme 64 Boulevard Haussmann shop.

  I wish I could be there to watch you rip them apart and empty their wallets. The thrill of the hunt, I guess. Eat 'em up. Go forth and conquer.

  Until Later Hellcat,

  Josh

  He cares about all the moving pieces of this solution. Josh might have pulled off a miracle. The clients he chose fit our company perfectly. He also knew I needed research. His letter is oddly romantic and incredibly respectful of my business savvy. And he gave me exclusive, to-die-for shoes that I might want to buried in. They’re heels that are so high that I might actually look formidable and be able to carry off that Halston. Did he fly in shoes from Paris? I might not hate him as much anymore. Also, how much money does he have?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Josh

  I drag myself into my office. Everything looks the same, but I can’t help but feel something has shifted in me. John hands me a cup of coffee as I enter the building instead of leaving it on my desk. Our offices are down and around the corner from the reception area. The coffee smells delicious and very different than the burnt sludge Mrs. Dotson usually makes. I shouldn’t miss the sludge. John tugs me back to reality. I’ve been back for two days, and there’s a shit ton to be done.

  “Why are you out here instead of at your desk?” I cock my head to John and narrow my eyes.

  “Because he’s in there,” John says matter-of-factly.

  “You’re fucking kidding me.” I sigh.

  “No. I don’t fuck or kid with you. I’m going to work out here. Mr. Mr. is in quite a snitty mood. He’s been here for an hour and a half. Godspeed. Let me know if you need me to take the cannoli.”

  “Stop it.” I chastise John. Sal is a difficult thing to explain, but he’s still business.

  “Sorry.”

  “Regardless of who you think he is, he’s still a legitimate client and should be treated with respect even though he’s a giant pain in my ass.”

  John grins and touches my arm. “I’m going to run errands. Is that okay?”

  “As long as you pick up my dry cleaning, I know I don’t usually ask you to do that shit, but I keep forgetting and it’s been there like a fucking month.”

  “That’s what happens when you hide out in the rolling hills of the wine country playing games with girls.” I shake my head at him and head towards my office and Sally Pipes. Sally Pipes, or Salvatore Pietro as he’s known in the legit business world, sits in my office with his back to me chomping on an unlit cigar looking every bit the part of a cleaned-up gangster. He was raised as one of those who never earned the initial fortune but was taught how to protect and hide it. He grew it and has now legitimized a large portion of his once underground family empire. With my help.

  We had a chance meeting in Los Angeles at a bar about a decade ago. We were both getting into new businesses. At the time, I was unaware of what his was. He told me he’d inherited the family business and although it was successful, he wanted to change things. He didn’t want to do what had always been done. I respected and identified with it. He’s a couple of years older than me. That night I talked to him about venture capital ideas, not knowing where the money would be coming from. It’s been in the last year that he’s told me more details about making the business clean. I ignored all the signs of it up until then. I don’t know all the specifics of what he does or what his parents, grandfathers, and godfathers did to earn the money.

  All I know is the bulk of Raptor Industries money was made during Prohibition, and that’s a similar narrative to LaChappelle, so I had a soft spot for him.

  His family ran the downtown tunnels and the Mayor’s office in those days. A series of underground tunnels were the speakeasies of LA. The only specifics I know about his current dealings are that Salvatore has vowed to pass on a clean legacy to the next generation.

  He staked me in my current company. In exchange, I’ve gotten him into some pretty incredible investments. He was the first whale that got me noticed in the venture capital world. I was fresh out of college and running away from Sonoma.

  He’s become a confidant as well. He knows all about my rift with the winery. He knows bits and pieces about my grandfather and his demands on me. And his edicts of honor and glory. And because I had a similar narrative to his, I’m his soft spot. Both of us wanting a different outcome for our lives than what was expected.

  His portfolio boasts Twitter. He’s one of the original investors in a lot of California tech. I paid him back for his initial investment in me after three years. He let me escape what my grandfather tried to make of my life. He helped me achieve the one I have.

  We’ve made a lot of money together. I’ve never felt threatened by him, but I have an inkling of the wrath that can ensue if his wishes aren’t followed. I keep him at a distance, though. I like him. But I’ve never said no to him either. I don’t think many people ever have. And if they have, there’s not a second time.

  “Sal. This is a surprise considering we had a meeting on the books for next week.”

  “Joshie.” He stands and we embrace. I sit behind my desk, and I watch this massive man sitting across from me. He crosses his right ankle over his left knee and sits back in his chair. He’s always confident that he’ll get what he needs.

  “Why are you here, Sal?”

  “Cutting to the chase now, aren’t we? No chitchat? How’s the folks?”

  “Fine. What do you need, Sal? The deal I’m presenting to you next week isn’t close to being ready.”

  “The folks are good?”

  “What are you playing at?” I lean forward. I’m not intimidated by this man, but I am wary. He drops his leg and puts his meaty paws on my desk and leans forward.

  “How do I know you’ve got my best interests at heart when you’ve been so far away from your office? That was an awful long vacation for you to take.”

  “My time with my family is none of your concern.”

  A giant grin breaks across his stubbled and chiseled chin. “Ha. Busting your balls, Joshie. You know I’m all about familia. Good on you to be with them.”

  I sit back and laugh at this man. He’s insane. “Again, you fucking idiot, what can I do for you?”

  “I got issues, Josh. People coming at me. I’m not going to go into all of it.”

  “Please, with all respect, don’t ever go into all of it. I love living in the margins with you. No narrative. How much do you need to invest? How soon?”

  “This. This here is why you’re my guy.” He stands up and I expect him to be slapping my back. He smiles. And slides a piece of paper across the desk. It simply says $6m. “As soon as fucking possible. It’s sitting in the escrow account that you have access to, and I’m getting a bit jumpy about it.”

  That’s a pretty big number for this guy. It’s usually one or two at a time, but six is a big ask for him.

  “Sal, I can do it. I’m used to dealing in much higher numbers, but to be delicate, I didn’t think you could invest that much at a time without drawing unwanted attention.”

  “No fucking choice. I’m protecting the future, and it can all get unfucking raveled if I don’t move this now.”

  “This is legit cash, correct?”

  “Of course, you asshole.” He looks offended.

  “Sorry.”

  He nods at me and shrugs with open hands as if it’s a way of saying it’s all okay. Then he turns to leave. At the door, he turns back to me. “Josh, I don’t expect you to understand all of what I’m asking but know I’ll never fuck you with this money shit. I got honor and so do you. But I need you here in your office at my disposal.”

&nb
sp; “I’m here, Sal. And I have an idea for the cash. But next time you can call.”

  His lip curls up to the left as he winks at me. “I’m a face-to-face guy. It’s the only way to do business.” And then he’s gone. He looked frazzled to me, and he never looks like that. He’s always impeccably dressed and appears well-rested. The slight wrinkles around his eyes and on his shirt have me a touch concerned.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  JOSH

  After three weeks, things are back to semi-normal around Santa Barbara. Except now I look forward to a daily phone call. The call usually comes at the end of the night. I sit and look out over the ocean, and she looks at the stars in Sonoma. I’ve stopped staying out late, so I don’t miss it. Three weeks ago, she called to thank me and update me that she nailed three of the four pitches. I made her give me the play-by-play. I love a deal. She really is a fucking shark. I will not mess with her again.

  The entire thing cost me forty-three grand. It took a teacher's salary to undo my own dumbass mistake. But the lack of guilt and renewed relationship with my parents was worth every penny.

  After she called that day, I had her number. I texted her the next day with something to mock my dad about. Then she texted back. Then I called the next day under the pretense of asking her a question about the marketing dinner she’s putting together for my parents. But she has yet to send me a picture of her in the Halston.

  We’re becoming something else. Not friends exactly and indeed not lovers, but we're no longer enemies. I don’t understand it, but she’s proven that she cares more about them than I have in quite a while. And Asher really is a non-factor. I put my feet up on a chaise lounge and pull a cork. I’m on the deck just off my kitchen. The whole back of the house is glass to the bluffs and then down to the beach. My deck wraps around to the back where I have an infinity pool. The hot tub is just off to the left and off the bedroom deck. My bedroom can open out to the ocean breeze. I laid out specifics of how clean and masculine I wanted everything, and John made sure that happened. I do not pay him enough; he seriously is the best assistant. There was only one thing I insisted on decor-wise. Well, two. One, no throw pillows. No extra fucking clutter that makes people want to cozy up. The most comfortable thing in my house is my bed. And there’s a picture I had printed that most people overlook as just something cool, but to me it’s a piece of who I am. I thought it would keep me from tipping over the edge to becoming another douche with too much money. I have more money than I ever thought possible.