The Billionaire's Bluff

by Nella Tyler

  I lifted an eyebrow. "Aren’t you the one that always told me not to judge on appearances? Or listen to gossip and innuendo?"

  He blustered a minute, got red in the face, and then visibly strove to control his emotions. "Molly, I think I know how you feel about Luke, but-"

  "I don't think you do, Dad," I said. "In fact, I think I’m falling for him-"

  "But you can't!" he shouted, once again slamming his hand down on the desk. He half rose out of his chair in a fit of pique.

  I leaned back in my chair, eyes wide in startled dismay. I had never seen my father get so emotional, not in all the years I had grown up in the house. Sure, we had had our disagreements and arguments, but I had never seen him so vocal, so emotional.

  "Dad, it's not like I did it on purpose," I said, not liking the defensive sound in my voice. “The heart wants what the heart wants," I shrugged lamely. I didn't mean to sound so flippant, but I was trying to find a graceful way out of this uncomfortable situation. The man sitting in front of me was not the man I was accustomed to. In fact, the more he blustered and shouted, the more I began to realize that Luke might be right.

  "Look, Molly, I'm sorry I've lost my temper, but this is personal-"

  "If you knew what you knew about Luke, or even Luke's dad, why didn't you tell me? Why did you give Luke the ultimatum? Why not just call and ask me to come by so you could tell me yourself?” I shook my head. “You were having us followed, weren’t you? You were spying on me!"

  He shook his head, scowling. " I didn't want you going to work as a maid at the Benning estate in the first place."

  "How did you find out about that?" He gave me a look.

  "You know how fast rumors fly along the grapevine," he grumbled. "What were you thinking, taking a job as a maid? Are you purposely trying to humiliate me? To embarrass the family? You've got a teaching degree, for God’s sake!"

  "Was I trying to humiliate you? No, Dad, I was just looking for a job."

  "If you just let me get you a position-"

  "Don't you understand, Dad, I've got to do some things on my own? I want to earn my way in life. I want to make my own way, make my own decisions, and even make my own mistakes. I don't want you getting me a job as a teacher when it will force someone else out." I was on a roll. "I know the economy is tough. I know they're giving teachers pink slips. I know many of them are losing their retirement benefits. Do you honestly think I would feel comfortable taking a position as a first-year teacher if I knew I was pushing out a teacher who had nearly thirty years on the job?" I shook my head.

  "It's business, Molly, just like everything-"

  "No, Dad, it's people," I disagreed. "You're so used to working with numbers, I think you might have forgotten that there are people behind those numbers. Do you think I could live with myself if I knew that you had gotten someone fired just open up a position for me?"

  "Molly, I was doing it for your own good-"

  "And that's exactly why I refused," I explained. "That's exactly why I applied for the job at the bank, at the restaurant, and then as a maid. Don't you see? I don't want you making my decisions for me. I don't want to take advantage of my very fortunate position in life. I'm grateful to you and Mom for everything I've been given, but I also want to learn to stand on my own two feet."

  He frowned. "And you're doing a mighty fine job of it aren't you?" he demanded. "Working as a maid, for crying out loud, and then, to make things worse, sleeping with your boss-"

  "Dad!"

  "Don't you dare take that tone with me," he said. He pointed his finger. "Everyone in town knows about it."

  I shook my head, making a face. "You know that's not true." I thought about it. "Oh, wait a minute. I guess it is when you consider the wildfire of gossip floating behind the scenes," I said. At the moment, I didn’t really care. "Look, Dad, I've never done anything to deliberately embarrass you-"

  “And what do you call taking a job as a maid?" he said, emphasizing the word as if it was a dirty one. He shook his head. "Scrubbing floors, cleaning toilets…you think I spent all that money on your education so you could clean up crap?"

  I felt my face flush with anger. "Dad! It’s gainful employment, and I'm just as willing to work as everybody else. It's nothing I haven’t done before here, helping Mom, or even sometimes helping our own maids. I don’t find anything shameful about it."

  "You deserve better than that!" He looked up at the ceiling. "What would your mother think?"

  "She doesn't know I'm working as a maid?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not going to say anything that's going to get her upset and agitated," he said. "You know about her heart condition."

  "It's a temporary position!" I replied. "I've been putting in applications with the school districts. I know that sooner or later, there will be an opening for me, somewhere."

  "And until then?"

  "And until then, I'll find gainful employment where I can." I stared at him and he stared back at me. I realized that we had gotten off track, so I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then repeated my earlier question to him. "I’m going to ask you again, if you knew Luke was involved in dirty business, or that his father was, why didn't you tell me instead of giving him an ultimatum? He didn't even know I was your daughter!"

  Once again, he scowled. He turned to look out the window before looking back at me.

  "Because I didn't think you'd listen to me."

  I stared at him in disbelief. That was lame. Why would he think I wouldn't have listened to him? I had known nothing about Luke. Why wouldn't I have believed him? The comment made me angrier than ever, so angry that I doubted his lame excuse could be truthful.

  "I'm sorry, Dad, but I don't believe that for one minute. When have I never listened to you when you had something to tell me?" Tears sprang to my eyes. We had never argued like this before. It made me feel sick and uncertain. "We've had our disagreements, and I haven't always done what you wanted me to do, but to say that I would not have listened to you? We both know that's not true."

  He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a hand and rose from the chair. "As far as I'm concerned, you could have at least tried." Without waiting for him to say another word, I quickly left the room, closing the door to his office softly behind me even though I wanted to slam it as hard as I could.

  As I made my way down the hallway to the front door, I realized how silent the house had become. My mom must've left already. Good. I wouldn't have wanted her to hear us arguing. I didn't see or hear any of the house staff, but because of my upbringing, I knew the walls had ears. I knew without a doubt that that's how my father had found out about Luke and me.

  The only problem was I had no idea what to do with my anger, my disappointment, and my discouragement. I felt as if I had lost something important with my father – a connection, a sense of, comradery that I might never get back. It seemed as if I had also lost Luke, or least, I thought so.

  What was it with these two? Was money so important that they felt it was important enough to endanger their most personal and trusting relationships with others? I thought about my mom. What would she do if she knew my dad was involved in dirty business dealings? I had no doubt that she knew nothing, as my father kept his business life and his personal life carefully separated.

  Nevertheless, as I left my childhood home and made my way to my car, the tears burning in my eyes began to flow and I couldn't blink them back. I felt lost, torn between truth and untruth, innuendos, accusations, and claims of innocence.

  On the way home, I felt like my brain was involved in a tug of war with my heart. What to believe? Whom to trust? Could I believe my father who, despite our current differences, I had loved and trusted my entire life? Never in the world would I have thought he would be involved in any kind of underhanded business dealings. Or, should I believe Luke? I hadn't even known him that long. In fact, I had only recently become infatuated with him. Was that all it was? Infatuation? Was I confusing infatuation for
love?

  I knew that both men had their faults, and they likely shared a lot of the same ones, but that didn't help me at all. I didn't expect either Luke or my father to be perfect. No one was. Look at me. I was trying to do the right thing. But, to be honest, I was deceiving myself. I knew what the right thing was…to report both of them to the SEC, the police, or somebody. The fact that I hesitated didn't say much about my morals or ethics, did it, and only because I felt so strongly about the two men involved.

  I couldn't make up my mind, and I doubted I would be able to make any kind of decision regarding whom to believe. My discussion with my father had not ended well. I regretted that deeply. We had never yelled at each other and I wasn't happy that we had done so only moments before. I had left with few answers and even less clarity.

  It wasn't exactly as though I had expected him to confess or come clean, but the fact that he had denied the accusations so vehemently made me doubt it. Why? Why shouldn't he defend himself with his fullest passion against the idea of insider trading? I wondered. I hadn't exactly accused him of insider trading, had I? Then again, when I linked his behavior to Luke, his reaction had taken me by surprise.

  My accusation, that it was Luke who had told me that my dad was a cornerstone of the insider trading operation, might have been a mistake. Even if it all turned out to be a huge misunderstanding, I had pretty much besmirched Luke's reputation in his eyes. I didn't think my father would forgive him quite so easily, nor me, for believing Luke over him.

  The bottom line was that I wanted to know the truth. I had to know the truth. I doubted that he would give it to me, whether he was doing it for self-preservation or to save me from being disappointed in him. The fact that he was involved in some way was obvious to me, as he hadn't called Luke an outright liar or threatened to charge him with defamation of character, which he most likely would have done with anyone else and against any other charge.

  I didn't want to see anyone get arrested. Not Luke and certainly not my father. If they were both involved in insider trading, I knew I would be sadly disappointed, as I was, but at the same time, did I want to see them behind bars? Spending time in jail? Wearing orange suits, with their reputations damaged, and fined potentially millions of dollars? Did I want to see my father's reputation and history in Raleigh dragged through the mud, fodder for the gossip mill? And what would such gossip do to my mother?

  So what do I do? Keep my mouth shut? If anything, it was thoughts of my mother that gave me pause. My parents weren't young anymore. Something like this and the scandal surrounding it would not only ruin my dad, but my mother, too. Did I have any right to do that? Did I have an obligation to report him, or Luke? Or did I have an obligation to my parents first? I couldn't very well report Luke without him turning the tables on my dad. But would he?

  What exactly did I want? I thought about it as I drove home. I wanted them both to stop doing what they were doing. I wanted them to do things the right way, the legal way. Sure, they might lose a lot of money in the process, but at least they could look themselves in the mirror and not feel guilty, if they did at all. Better yet, I would be able to look at them and not question their trustworthiness, or anything that came out of their mouth.

  I groaned. I was going around and around and around. I knew one thing for certain – I didn't want anyone to get arrested. At the same time, I didn't want to associate with either one of them if they were going to deal in illegal activities.

  Chapter 5

  By the time I got back home, I definitely needed a third ear. I called Samantha, who I was lucky enough to once again catch on her day off.

  "What’s going on now?" she asked as she answered the phone

  "What makes you think something's wrong?" I asked her.

  "Molly, we've been friends for years. You don't think I can tell when something's wrong? Besides, I haven't heard from you in a few days. Seems like the only time you call me lately is when there's trouble brewing, there’s an excess of drama, or you need my advice about something."

  "You know me too well," I sighed. "And yes, I do need to talk to you. Are you available today?"

  "Not until about four o'clock this afternoon," she said. "I'm taking my mother on some errands. Wanna come with?"

  I shook my head even though she couldn't see it. "No, this needs to be a private conversation."

  I figured as much," Samantha said. "Okay, how about I come and pick you up at about four or four-thirty? Then we'll go get a bite to eat and you can pour your heart out."

  I shook my head again. "What makes you think I need to pour my heart out?"

  Samantha laughed. "Why else would you be calling me, girlfriend?"

  We concluded the call. I spent the rest of the morning moping around my apartment. I wasn't feeling hungry, so I skipped lunch and instead lay down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn't slept much the past couple of nights, and I just lay there, trying to settle my thoughts. Before long, I slipped into a doze.

  By the time I was jolted awake by the sound of some kids playing in the common area between my condo and that of the people next door, I realized that it was already three o'clock. I really must've needed the rest; otherwise I wouldn't have slept so long. I quickly jumped into the shower, my thoughts once again consumed with Luke and my dad…my dad and Luke. Around and around, back and forth, no resolution, no decisions, no idea what to do. Maybe Samantha would be able to help me sort it all out.

  Samantha rang my doorbell at four o'clock on the dot. One thing I could always say about Samantha was that she was punctual. To a fault sometimes. We were both dressed casually, she and capris and I in a pair of jeans, both of us in T-shirts and sandals.

  "Where to, girlfriend?"

  "Somewhere where we can talk and not have to worry about privacy," I said.

  "Okay, how about the café over on the other side of town? You know, the one with the fountain out front?"

  I nodded. I couldn’t remember the name of the place, but I knew which one she was talking about. They had an open patio with tables outside, with umbrellas even. "That sounds good."

  We just talked about non-important stuff as Samantha drove to the freeway and we made our way across town. She caught me up on everything going on in her life, but didn't question me about mine until we had sat down at one of the umbrella tables, far away from anybody else, and placed our orders. I wasn't really hungry, but Samantha was. She ordered a Po’boy, French fries, and coleslaw. I ordered an antipasto salad. Still, we didn't get into depth about anything until after our sodas and meals had been served.

  Samantha took one big bite of her Po’boy, chewed for several moments, and then, watching me pick at my salad, uttered one word. “Spill.”

  So, I did. I told her everything, from the beginning. I didn't leave anything out. At one point, she nearly choked on her sandwich when the words insider trading were whispered, but other than that, she didn't respond with any emotion until I had finished my story.

  She said nothing for several moments, finishing the last few bites of her coleslaw. I continued to picket my salad, having yet to take a bite. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. "So what you think?"

  "I think the whole situation really stinks," she said.

  "Agreed," I said. "But what should I do?"

  She leaned back in her chair, drank a swig of her soda, and then looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "What do you think you should do?"

  I shook my head in frustration. “Samantha, why do you think I needed to talk to you? I have no idea. Help me out here, will you?"

  She said nothing for several moments. "You're going to be damned if you do and damned if you don't, you know that, don't you?"

  I nodded, wishing that Samantha would give me some of her valuable advice. Usually, she was full of ideas. Finally, she spoke, but the words she said were not those I necessarily wanted to hear.

  "Molly, honey, this is a tricky situation. The only advice I can offer is that you need to do what y
ou feel is right for you."

  I sank back in my chair, staring at her with wide eyes. "And how am I supposed to figure that out? I'm so confused right now I don't know which way is up!"

  "I can imagine," Samantha said in commiseration. "But this is not a decision that anyone else can make for you. It not only involves your boyfriend, but your father. You, more than anyone else, know how something like this can affect not only the present, but the future." She pondered. "You haven't brought up your mom."

  "What about her? She's not involved in this."

  "Actually, she is," Samantha said.

  I frowned and stared at my friend. "What do you mean?"

  "You and I both know that your mom's not in the best of health. Something like this, the scandal, could send her right back into the hospital. She's already had one heart attack-"

  "I know, I know," I said, nodding. "I get it." I sighed, looking off into the distance, at the cars going by beyond the hedge of shrubbery on the other side of the patio. "How in the hell did I get involved in such a mess?"

  "You really want my opinion?" Samantha asked.

  I just looked at her, made a face, and then nodded.

  "You got involved in this mess, bottom line, because you got your head turned around a pretty face."

  Thanks a lot, Samantha," I said. "Now do you have any good advice for me?"

  "How do you feel about Luke?"

  "How do I-" I sighed. "I think I've fallen in love with him," I admitted.

  "And I would suppose that you still you love your dad too, right? No matter whether he's telling the truth or not, whether he's involved or not?"

  "Of course!"

  "You know, Molly, I've never been a huge fan of your dad’s micromanaging. I always got the impression that he didn't really approve of me."

  I didn't argue, because I had noticed it, too. Even though Samantha and I had been friends for years, my father always tended to close himself off when she was around. My mother on the other hand, loved Samantha and made no bones about it.