Billionaire's Vegas Night: A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Boss Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #4)

by Claire Adams

  Jack sat next to me, listening calmly as I let loose with a torrent of anger and resentment and, by the time I was done, I was sobbing loudly as all the pain and disappointment flowed out. Jack leaned over and put an arm around me and drew me to him, holding me tightly as I cried.

  "It's okay, Leah," he whispered as he rested his chin on top of my head. "Let it all out. It's okay. I understand."

  It took me a long time to stop crying, but Jack sat patiently, waiting for the storm to pass and occasionally patting my shoulder as he reminded me that it would all be okay. When I felt like I'd finally cried the last tear, I wiped my face as I sniffled. Jack offered me a handkerchief.

  "I didn't know guys still carried these things," I said as I blew my nose.

  "My Pop was big on tradition," he said. "Linc and I always got a box of handkerchiefs for our birthdays. And any other holiday, really."

  "Wow, how well did that go over?" I said, laughing weakly.

  "Not well," he said grimly.

  "I'm sorry," I said peeking up at him and seeing that he was serious. "That must have been rough."

  "My father was a rough man," he nodded. "He had a very specific way of seeing the world, and we were expected to adopt that way or suffer the consequences—but this isn't about my childhood. This is about how you feel and what you want to do next."

  "It's okay, Jack," I said, sitting up and looking at him. The thoughtful expression on his face told me that he was focused on solving my problems not talking about his own. "It's weird how parents can appear so different to the outside world than they do to their kids, isn't it? My mother is the nicest person on Earth to strangers, but at home . . . when she's been drinking, it's a whole different matter."

  "My father was always nicer to strangers than he was to us," Jack admitted. "It made me feel like there was something really wrong with me because I wondered why he couldn't be nice to me, too."

  "I've always thought it was because my mother felt so much pressure to make sure we were well behaved and grew up to be successful adults," I said as I leaned into his body. "She didn't have that pressure when it came to strangers."

  "I always thought my father was trying to fix what he'd done wrong by making us be better than him," Jack said. "Like he was trying to beat the bad out of us so that we'd be good without having to try so hard."

  "My mother did that to Molly, my older sister," I said quietly. "I think it made her go the other way. She escaped into drugs and drinking because she felt like such a failure."

  "I think that's what Lincoln and I did, too. We just had the benefit of money and an education," he said sheepishly. "We escaped into success, but it didn't make us better people, that's for sure. I think we're both equally miserable despite the fact that we've achieved everything my father hoped we would, and we both have more money than we know what to do with."

  "Are you really that miserable?" I asked.

  "I'm not miserable. I'm just not very happy," he sighed. "I feel like I've done everything that I thought would make me happy, and now there's nothing left to do."

  "Wow, that's really . . ." I began, but stopped because I was unsure of what to say next. I didn't have this problem. I had so much I still wanted to do, but I didn't have the resources I needed to be able to do it.

  "I know, first world problems, right?" he sighed again. "I feel like my life is so meaningless—like I'm going through the motions and doing what's expected, but nothing makes me happy anymore."

  "Have you thought about seeing a doctor for that?" I teased as I reached up and patted his cheek.

  "Ha!" he laughed and was about to say something when a car pulled into the driveway and the front door opened. Jack started to get up and then saw that it was his brother exiting the house. He ducked back down behind the bush in front of us, put his finger to his lips, and said, "Shhh."

  Peering through the bush, Jack tried to get a look at the person getting out of the car. When he couldn't, he settled in on the bench and waited to see if he could hear their voices.

  "I told you not to come here tonight," Lincoln said tersely. "Everyone's here. What if someone saw you?"

  "Oh, do shut up, you silly worrywart," the woman replied. I didn't recognize the voice, but Jack's eyes widened as he listened. "I have information that can't be transmitted via phone or email, and it's urgent."

  "Fine, tell me what you need to tell me, and then get the hell out of here," Lincoln said.

  "The Chinese are ready to make a deal on the warehouse operation, and the buyers from New Delhi are ready to take over the ordering portion and the customer service phone support," she said as if ticking things off a list. "I think we need to settle the deal with the Chinese before we talk with the Indians. Otherwise we're going to have a hell of a time selling them the partial pieces."

  "You should have thought of that before you started bolstering the warehouse operation stateside, Sloan," he replied.

  Now it was my turn to look at Jack with wide eyes. I wasn't sure that what I was hearing was correct, but the implications were clear: Lincoln and Sloan were working together to break up Baby Steps. I felt Jack's arm tighten around me and saw him put his finger to his lips again to remind me to stay quiet. I nodded and continued listening.

  "If we can break down the pieces of the company, we can sell them at a substantial profit and pay off the shareholders before we take our cut of the deal," Lincoln said. "But you have to stop coddling my little brother. You know we only picked him because we thought he'd run the company into the ground so that he could get back to doing what he was doing before the old man kicked it."

  "You're such a cold-hearted jerk," Sloan said with laugh, and then more quietly, "I love that about you."

  Jack slid forward and pushed the bushes apart enough to see that Lincoln and Sloan were locked in a passionate embrace.

  "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath.

  "Shhhh," I remind him. He nodded and slid back on the bench, his hand squeezing my shoulder tightly.

  "I'll take care of your little brother," Sloan said after a lengthy silence. "You take care of sinking the renovation loan and making it look like a bad business deal. If all goes according to plan, we should be able to get out from under this thing in the next month. I want it off the table by the time you make a break with Jessie, and we start to plan the next step."

  "Uh, yeah, about that," Lincoln began.

  "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet," she said in a terse voice. "I told you when we began this thing that I wasn't going to take no for an answer, Lincoln. I put you in a position to capitalize on the deals that the bank made. You're not going to back out on me now."

  "Look, I'm not sure I want to leave my wife right now," Lincoln said. "We have kids."

  "Put them in boarding school," Sloan said. "My parents did it and look how I turned out."

  "Uh, yeah," Lincoln said hesitating. "All I'm saying is that I need a little more time to figure out the personal side of things, okay?"

  "Well, don't drag your feet," Sloan said. "I'd hate to have to pull out the big guns and take aim."

  "There's no need to be unreasonable, Sloan," Lincoln said in an icy voice. "I'll figure things out, and we'll get what we're after."

  "You'd better hope so," Sloan said as she walked back to her car and opened the door. "I'm not accustomed to being disappointed, and I don't deal well with it when I am."

  "Understood," Lincoln said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Usual time and place."

  The car door slammed, and Sloan backed out of the driveway, leaving Lincoln standing there alone. He didn't move, but since we couldn't see past the branches in our way, I couldn't tell what he was doing. A few minutes later, we heard him walk up the steps and go back inside the house.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Jack said as he looked at me. I had no idea what he was thinking, so I stayed quiet and hoped that he would keep his arm around me a little longer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jack

>   "That son of a bitch," I said as I stood up and started pacing the garden walk. "That no good son of a bitch is trying to ruin the company!"

  "It's obvious that Sloan wants to pull it apart and sell it off," Leah said. "But are you sure your brother wants to do that, too? He sounded a little less certain of . . . well, everything."

  "He's a greedy bastard who has always done everything for profit, and I'm sick and tired of it," I said as I felt the ball of anger building in my chest.

  "Maybe you should sit down and talk with him before you get too worked up," Leah suggested.

  "I'm going to kill him," I growled as I headed back toward the house.

  "Jack!" Leah called. "Don't do anything drastic before you know the whole story!"

  "Fuck that, I'm going to murder my brother, and then I'm going to go after Sloan Morgan with everything I have," I called over my shoulder. There was no way the two of them were going to make a fool of me.

  "JACK!" Leah shouted. I stopped and turned around to see her striding toward me with a determined look on her face. "No, you are not going to go in there and blow the one advantage we have simply because you're pissed about some childhood grudges and mad at a girl who played you. God, you are such a man!"

  "What the hell does that mean?" I said as I turned and looked down at the fiery Irish girl who was ordering me around.

  "It means that you're an idiot," she said with her hands on her hips. "If you go in there and start a war with your brother, you'll blow every possible advantage we have. And you'll make it impossible for us to formulate a counter-attack."

  "But he can't get away with this!" I shouted.

  "Keep your voice down," she said, quieting me. "Look, we just heard their entire plan. Now we can sit down and map out a way to subvert it. But if you go in there and tip our hand, we'll never be able to stop them. Your brother has contacts at the bank, and Sloan is as slippery as a greased snake."

  "You've been hanging around Norma too much," I grinned as the southern saying slipped out of her mouth. Leah laughed a little and then stepped closer and rested her hands on my chest. I felt my body instantly respond, and I had to quickly remind myself that she was my employee, not a conquest. It wasn't easy, though. Her fingers were light, and I could feel the warmth of her palms seeping through my shirt as she looked up at me. Never in my life had I ever wanted to kiss a woman more than I did at that moment.

  "Listen, we've got to put up a fight," Leah said looking up at me. Her eyes were softer now, and I could see every one of the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. "There are so many people at Baby Steps who are counting on keeping their jobs. We can't let Sloan and your brother gut the company and leave them high and dry, can we?"

  "No, we definitely cannot," I said clearing my throat and forcing myself to look away. At that moment, I couldn't have cared less about the company. I wanted to sweep Leah up in my arms and carry her to my bedroom so I could peel off the layers of clothes and find out if her freckles stretched all the way to her toes.

  "Jack?" she said as she tapped my chest.

  "Huh?"

  "I asked you what you were going to do right now," she repeated.

  "I'm going to go inside and not murder my brother," I dutifully replied. "Then tomorrow morning, we'll go into the office and begin formulating our plan of attack."

  "Good, I'm glad I finally managed to get through to you," she said, smiling.

  I waited a moment, not wanting to move, but unsure of whether I could get away with kissing her. Leah made the decision for me as she dropped her hands and started up the front steps. I followed, knowing that keeping all of this under wraps was going to require the best acting job of my life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Leah

  Once I'd gotten Jack settled down enough to be sure that he wouldn't screw things up by letting loose on his brother, I went inside to find his mother. I knew that running away from the table had probably confused her because Jack hadn't told her about his surprise, and I wanted to apologize.

  "Mrs. Yates?" I said when I found her sitting on a chaise in the back living room.

  "Oh, please call me Betty, honey," she said as she patted the seat next to her. "Come sit with me and let’s talk."

  "Betty, I'm sorry I ran away from the dinner table," I began. "I didn't . . ."

  "You didn't know that Jack had already decided you'd stay here, did you?" she asked in a light tone that told me she was used to this kind of behavior. "My boys are good boys, but they are a lot like their father. When they see something needs to be done, they just do it. Everything and everyone else be damned."

  "I didn't know he'd made plans for us," I said.

  "Of course you didn't, dear," she smiled. "He wanted to surprise you with a solution to your problem."

  "Well, he did, indeed," I said, shaking my head. "I just . . ."

  "You just don't like the way he swooped in and took over," she finished. "I didn't like the way Bernard did that, either, but over the years I realized that his intentions weren't bad. It was just that his plan of action needed fine tuning."

  "But Jack's my boss," I said. "He's not my husband."

  "Oh darling," Betty laughed as she patted my arm. "I think you are missing the obvious."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, Jack may not know it yet, but he's fallen for you, my dear," she smiled. "He's head over heels, but my guess is that he's either not entirely aware of it or he's decided not to admit it to anyone, not even himself."

  "I'm not seeing it," I lied as the memory of our first kiss flashed in my mind. "He's my boss, and he's been nothing but professional with me."

  "All right, well, you two can keep playing this game for a little longer, but eventually it's going to catch up with you," Betty said as she looked out the window wistfully. "Bernard and I had a similar kind of courtship. He maintained an appropriate distance, and so did I. But in the end, we knew it was bigger than both of us. And it was."

  "How long were you married?" I asked.

  "Bernard and I celebrated our 40th anniversary last year," she smiled at the memory. "He booked a cruise, and we spent ten lovely days together remembering why we'd gotten married in the first place."

  "Did you need the reminder?" I asked.

  "Oh goodness, yes, dear!" she exclaimed. "I was on the verge of leaving him!"

  "You were?"

  "Bernard was a difficult man," she said, carefully choosing her words. "There were many times during our marriage that I thought about picking up and leaving. But we had the boys, and it wasn't easy. Besides, as Bernard built the business, he was gone a lot of the time, so I lived in peace for many years."

  "But you stayed," I said. "Why would you stay if you were so unhappy when he was around?"

  "You young girls are so funny," she said as she turned and looked at me. "You think the whole world has always existed the way you experience it. What you don't understand is that your experience rests on the backs of the women who came before you."

  "But if things were bad . . ." I said.

  "If things were bad, you stayed because you didn't have options," Betty explained. There was a hint of irritation in her voice as she spoke. "I didn't earn a college degree until the boys were grown. Early in my marriage, I wasn't allowed to apply for a credit card without Bernard co-signing on it. Where was I going to go with two little boys? How would I support them?"

  "I have no idea," I said, suddenly thinking about my own mother.

  "Of course you don't," she said. "We don't really talk about these things openly, but they're the source of frustration and regret for many women. Look, I'm not complaining. I had a pretty marvelous life when all is said and done, but I do understand the frustration you feel about having Jack take control of your situation. All I'm saying is that there's a balance."

  "I can see that," I nodded as I thought about the difference between intent and action, and wondered if perhaps Jack and I needed to have a conversation about things.
Then I thought about how embarrassed I'd feel if I brought this up and was wrong about his intentions.

  "I don't think Jack was trying to control you, dear," Betty said as she quietly broke into my thoughts. "I think he was just trying to alleviate the stress you must obviously feel as you try to deal with work, home, and making sure Riley is well cared for."

  "I can see that," I said. "I'm just not sure how I feel about this."

  "Don't let pride get in the way of gaining a better understanding of his motives," Betty said as she stood up. "I don't know what they are, but I'm willing to bet they're better than what you think. Now, if you'll excuse me, dear, I'm going to show you your room and then take myself to bed."

  "Oh, of course," I said, popping up off of the chaise and following her upstairs.

  The room she'd prepared for me was the most luxurious place I'd ever seen. The room was done in mossy greens and earthy tones, and it felt relaxing and restful. In one corner was an inviting sitting area with over-stuffed armchairs and plump stools. There were fuzzy blankets draped over the backs of the chairs and tables piled high with the latest best-sellers. On the other side of the room was a huge canopy bed covered in the thickest duvet I'd ever seen, topped with a mountain of pillows that looked like they were made for lounging.

  The room had its own private bath complete with a soaking tub and an intricately tiled shower area that covered almost an entire wall. Betty showed me that the closets had been filled with an array of clothing and things Jack thought I might need, and she gave me a tour of the bathroom, making sure to tell me that she'd placed an order for the cosmetics and personal hygiene products herself.

  "Jack wouldn't have known the first thing about what you'd need," she chuckled as she pulled out drawers and showed me all of the things that had been tucked into them.