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Billionaire Rides: The Complete Series (MC Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story)

Page 53

by Claire Adams


  “I’m not doing anything wrong,” I told Adam, trying to feel as strong and determined as I hoped I sounded. “I’m a single young woman. I have every right to dance with a single young man.”

  Adam’s dark green eyes smoldered, “Single? That’s funny. I had assumed that since you’ve spent the better part of the last six months in my bed, we were in somewhat of a relationship.”

  I sighed. This conversation was already giving me a headache. Forcing myself to keep my chin up and look him in the eye, I said, “Maybe you should tell Marjorie that,” I knew full well that if he wasn’t already angry, he would be now. I didn’t care. I was sick of being the peacemaker.

  “I have told you over and over that sharing our…intimate life with Marjorie will only cause her to fight that much harder to destroy me. She’ll want to take you down in the process of ruining me. I told you last night, I am doing my best to finalize this divorce so that she can be out of our lives once and for all. You know that I want nothing to do with her. The sight of her makes me sick. I don’t know what you want from me, Alicia.”

  I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. I blinked them back. I refused to cry in front of him. My cheeks burned hot as I said, “If you don’t know what I want, then maybe we’ve been wasting our time all of these months.” I stared at him for a moment, and when he said nothing I went on.

  I was angry now. I shouldn’t have to explain myself, but then again, I shouldn’t have put myself in this situation in the first place. “What I want, Adam, is you. I want your time and your attention. I want the Adam that you were when we first met, not the Adam who is constantly exhausted and angry from fighting all day with his soon to be ex-wife. I want a man whose arm I can be on in public. One that I can be dancing with at our own ball, instead of pretending like we’re only business associates in order to keep up appearances until your divorce is final. Imagine how it feels for me to have to watch you dancing with other women all night.”

  Adam’s eyes softened and he said, “Maybe the same as it felt to watch you with Nico.” I felt a stab of guilt, but I wasn’t quite ready to give in. He reached for my hand. I let him take it and he said, “Alicia, I want all of those things, too. I am trying so hard to get Marjorie to agree to this latest settlement offer that we’ve drawn up. It’s that damn lawyer of hers. He keeps telling her to fight for more, that bastard, David Rogers. He won’t be happy until he’s goaded her into breaking me completely. He seems to have more than a professional stake in this. Maybe she's sleeping with him.”

  I felt my anger ebbing away already. I’m a sap where Adam is concerned. “I know you’re trying. It’s just so damned hard feeling like we’re sneaking around all the time when we’re not even doing anything wrong. You’ve been separated for almost a year. You should be free to see whoever you want. My parents are visiting from England next month. I wanted so much for you to meet them as my boyfriend, instead of the head partner of the firm I work for.”

  He pulled me in close to his chest. I felt him nuzzle his face into my hair and breathe it in. “I’ll work harder on it, I promise. Just stop going around kissing my associates, okay? I’d hate to have to beat him up after I fire him.”

  Adam’s voice hadn’t changed from its somber tone, and when I stepped back to look up at him, I was a little worried that he was serious. I honestly hadn’t meant to goad him into fighting with Nico, or firing him. I’d feel so awful if I were to blame for Nico losing his job. When I saw Adam’s face, though, I knew I needn’t have worried. He had a handsome smile forming at the edges of his mouth. I knew then that he’d only been joking. I punched him in the arm lightly and with a smile of my own I said,

  “You infuriate me sometimes, do you know that?”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, still smiling. He caught me off-guard then as his sexy lips came crashing down on mine. My head was chaotically telling me to walk away and make him wait until he’d finished with his divorce, but as usual, my body told me differently. I rose up on my tiptoes and leaned my body into his. Against my better judgement I returned his kiss with the fervor welling up inside of me. Just about the time I was ready to consent to getting naked in the alcove and making love right there on the floor he pulled back and said,

  “We better get back before someone notices us missing,”

  “Maddening, maddening, maddening,” I whispered, mostly to myself as he straightened his tie and I smoothed down my rumpled gown.

  “What was that?” Adam asked, pretending not to hear me.

  “I said yes of course.” My voice had a sarcastic edge to it that I’m certain he didn’t miss.

  “Fantastic,” Adam said, as if settling a business deal in his favor, “We’ll talk more about this later, but thank you for being so understanding.”

  I rolled my eyes and as I left the room first, I turned back to him and said, “You can bet we’ll discuss this later.”

  ********

  I ended up going home alone that evening. Before the night was over, Adam received a call from the CEO of the large petroleum company our firm had begun representing recently. There was a large oil spill in the gulf, and Hanson and Partners were the attorneys for the defendants, a large and very rich company that was being sued for hundreds of millions by the EPA and others who had smelled money and jumped in on the bandwagon. Adam normally sent an associate or a junior partner when something came up late in the evening, but this new liaison with the Petroleum Company was sure to prove to be a lucrative one. Adam felt that while we were still in the courting stages at least, he should give them VIP service.

  I had been disappointed at first, but once home and in my comfy yoga pants and cotton t-shirt, I decided that a night alone to think might be just what I needed to figure this all out. I made myself a cup of hot cocoa and called Kyla, my best friend. I knew she would be up because she’d been at the party I just left.

  “Hi.” She always sounded like she had a smile in her voice. It was one of the many things I loved about her. “Missed me already?”

  “Of course, I did,” I told her. I took a breath then and said, “I need some advice.”

  “About Nico?” Kyla asked, playfully. She knew good and well that wasn’t the advice I was looking for.

  With a groan, I said, “No! Did everyone see me make a fool of myself with Nico tonight?”

  Kyla laughed. “Calm down, silly. I was only giving you a hard time. I saw Adam watching you and Nico dance, and I swear he had storm clouds in his eyes. Then you two disappeared for a while, and you both looked happier and a little flush when you came back. I suppose though that since I am the only one at the firm that knows the truth, I was paying much closer attention than anyone else.”

  “Thank you, Kyla,” I trusted her with my and Adam’s secret because I knew she was too loyal to ever say anything to anyone. “I hope Nico didn’t get the wrong idea, though.”

  “I think Nico indulged a bit much in the champagne fountain tonight. Odds are he won’t remember all that much in the morning.”

  “Good. The last thing I need is another man at work angry with me.”

  “Is Adam angry with you?”

  “No, not anymore, anyways,” I told her. “I just don’t know what to do, though. I’m so tired of all this drama with Marjorie affecting his moods. I’m tired of pretending to everyone at work that I’m just another colleague of his. But every time I think of calling it quits, I look at him and I melt all over again. What’s wrong with me, Kyla?”

  “Absolutely nothing at all,” my friend said, “You’re in love, that’s all. It can be the most wonderful, amazing, titillating, frustrating, maddening feeling you’ve ever had. It’s just confusing sometimes. I know it’s hard for you having to hide it.”

  “Well, thank you for saying nothing is wrong with me, but you’ve told me what I already know. Don’t you have any special advice that will relieve this ache in my soul? It wants to reach out to him, but I feel like I have to keep it in a cage.”

 
“My advice to you is that if your soul is already involved, aching or not, you’re in too deep to get out now. Follow your heart, honey. You have a great head on your shoulders, but sometimes you get too analytical with that attorney brain of yours. Try not to overthink it, just do what your heart tells you to do. Hearts always know best in the end.”

  “Thank you, Kyla. My heart loves you, too. Get some rest.”

  “I will, you, too. I will see you bright and early Monday morning in court.”

  “I can’t wait,” I said sarcastically with my lip curled. The case we had to be in court for on Monday had consumed every one of our waking hours for months now. I wasn’t looking forward to facing the sleazy D.A., but I was looking forward to the surprise we had for him. “The NYPD and our tacky little D.A. are going to be dumbfounded when we present the motion to suppress the confession.”

  “Yep, I can’t wait to see Dawson’s face,” Kyla said.

  “Me, too!” I heartily agreed. Dawson was Robert Dawson. He was the D.A. for the Manhattan borough of New York, and he was also a short, balding, and pudgy little man with beady eyes and hairy arms that thought his position of prosecutor gave him some kind of clout with the ladies. He has hit on both Kyla and me more than once. He’s a pig, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I offered up the evidence that his police detectives had coerced a confession out of my client after he had asked for a lawyer.

  Our client in this case is the son of a very wealthy contractor who was already a client of the firm. The kid’s name is Nelson, and he is not very likeable at all, which makes my work even harder. It’s not really his fault. He was the product of uber rich parents who had little time to help him develop his social skills and instead gave him every material thing he could ever want. I knew, though, that the kid hadn’t done what they were accusing him of. It was all part of a political game and I had no use for people who would play games with a young man’s life, whether he’s likeable or not.

  After hanging up with Kyla, I headed for bed. Just before snuggling down underneath the soft down comforter that my mother had helped me pick out just before my move to New York, my phone rang. It was Adam.

  “Hi, baby. Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “No, I was just lying down. I’m glad you called.”

  “I wanted to say goodnight. I hope you’re not mad at me still.”

  I didn’t want to get into it again right then, so I said, “No, I understand. How did the meeting go?”

  Adam sighed. “This isn’t going to be pretty. A reporter from the Times has zoned in on the story and is acting as if she has taken up the Cross. She’s hounding the CEO of Brigham Mobile, no matter how many walls the company puts up to protect him. This reporter, Rose Dugan is her name; I hear she's like a dog with a bone when she gets ahold of a story. She's digging into his personal life and personal finances. She has also started beating a drum about his connection to the presidential campaign.”

  “Can you get a judge to issue a gag order?” I asked.

  “I wish,” he said, “Unfortunately, this was an international incident, and apparently the ‘people’ have a right to know. I’ve scheduled a meeting with Ms. Dugan in the morning. Hopefully, I can convince her to ease up…”

  “Be careful. Hanson doesn’t need a reporter snapping at our heels with everything else that’s going on.”

  “I will. I just wanted to say goodnight and I am thinking about you.”

  “Goodnight, Adam, sweet dreams.”

  “I will be dreaming about you,” he told me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ADAM

  I was running late. The meeting with the oil company had gone on and on last night and then after I’d gotten home and talked to Alicia on the phone, I couldn’t go to sleep. I wanted her in my arms. I understood why my situation would upset her. If things were reversed, I doubt I’d put up with it. I just have to find a way to make her understand that I’m doing this for us. If I let Marjorie take everything that I’ve worked for my entire life, there would be nothing left for us. I’m not willing to let that happen. Alicia and I both just had to be patient. This divorce couldn’t drag on forever.

  I rushed into the café where the reporter Rose and I had arranged to meet. I only left five minutes late but the traffic on the turnpike had been horrific and now I was running a half an hour behind. I had seen a picture of Rose under her byline in the paper so I knew her as soon as I spotted her sitting at a table alone sipping her coffee. I watched her for a moment, as she had yet to notice me. She held her coffee with one hand and sent and received text messages on her phone with the other. She looked so young to have such an important position. I smiled as I remembered having the same thought the first time Alicia had walked into my office for her job interview. I assumed it must have something to do with growing older. Everyone else seemed to be getting younger. Sometimes I couldn’t believe I was already forty. It was kind of a depressing thought.

  The young lady finally looked up from her texting and I took that opportunity to gauge her expression as I approached her table. I made eye contact with her and watched her look over my three-thousand-dollar suit. I’m not pretentious. I just truly believe that how a person dresses is an extension of who they are both personally and professionally. I thought I detected a change in the confident expression the young woman had pasted on her face. It was very brief, but I recognized anxiety when I saw it. Holding out my hand as I approached the table, I said, “Ms. Dugan?”

  She stood up, all five feet two of her, and offered her hand, as well. I was surprised to find that although her hand was so small and appeared fragile, she possessed a powerful grip. “Yes. Mr. Hanson, I presume?” she said, releasing my hand and sitting back down. “Please, take a seat.”

  I sat down and said, “Please forgive me for being late. The traffic was terrible for a Sunday.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, “I drove all the way in from Queens. I think it must be the approaching holidays bringing more people out and about in the city.”

  “Well, Ms. Dugan, I am grateful to you for spending your Sunday morning driving into Manhattan to meet with me.”

  “Please, call me Rose,” she said, “And maybe we can save the small-­talk and get right to the point of why we’re here today.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her brusqueness, but if that’s what she wanted, that’s what she would get. “Okay, Rose, right to the point we’ll get. I like that. Perhaps you can explain to me why you are determined to smear my client’s good name all over the front page of your paper?”

  “Well…Adam…do you mind if I call you Adam?” I nodded slightly, knowing full well that calling me by my first name was an attempt on her part to keep us on equal footing.

  “First of all, your client’s ‘good name’ as you put it, was lost the day he spilled hundreds of gallons of oil into the Gulf and killed countless fish, birds, and wildlife. Not to mention, contaminated drinking supplies to thousands of human beings.” I stayed silent, and Rose continued, “Second, I am simply doing my job, reporting the news, as are you doing yours, defending slimy oil barons who support crooked politicians.”

  I smiled. It was a happy smile, but an ironic one. It wasn’t often that I met someone that stood up to me so easily. I knew I could be intimidating and over-bearing. It typically bodes well for me in my business. I could see that with this young lady, I would possibly need to use a softer approach.

  “I agree that we are both doing our jobs. What I would like is for us to find a way to do our jobs without resorting to smear campaigns in the press.”

  “And if I should choose not to smear your clients so called ‘good name,’ what would be in that for me?”

  I could tell that although she was doing a great job of keeping her facial features neutral, her eyes were daring me to offer her some sort of bribe. I thought about what Alicia had said about being careful. I got the feeling she was dead on in this case. Rose Dugan was hoping that I would turn out to
be a dirty, slimy S.O.B. Smiling what I thought was my most charming smile I said,

  “Going to bed at night, happy in the knowledge that you’ve done the right thing?”

  She laughed. “I sleep very well at night, thank you for your concern.” Her phone vibrated, and looking at it, she said, “If that’s all, I really need to be going.”

  I was confused. I just got here. Was she only just trying to set me up for a bribe? “I thought you wanted an interview from someone close to Brigham Oil? You’ve hardly gotten anything but my name.” Rose stood up with her phone in her hand and her purse on her arm and as she started walking away said,

  “No, Mr. Hanson, I do believe I also got your number. Have a nice day.” And with that, she was gone.

  I sat motionless for a moment. I was infuriated by this practical child’s holier than thou attitude. What could someone so young and inexperienced know about anything? My number? What the hell does she think she means by that? I shook my head and mumbled out loud to myself as I left the restaurant, “She's way in over her head. I hope she knows what she’s in for.”

  ********

  When I got to Alicia’s apartment that night, she was just putting the

  finishing touches on the table for dinner. I realized as soon as I saw her how much I’d missed her. God, she's beautiful. I pulled her into my arms and gave her a long, deep kiss. “Wow!” she said, breathlessly when I allowed her to come up for air. “What was that for?”

  “Because I missed you, and I needed that.” She had her pretty dark auburn hair braided along the side of her face and wasn’t wearing any make-up. The freckles across her nose were visible and it made her look a lot younger than her twenty-seven years. I kissed the tip of her nose and said, “I barely slept without you next to me last night.” I moved into the living room and she followed me. I loosened my silk tie and plunked my lanky frame down on her couch.

 

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