Wicked Surrender (Hollis Brothers Book 3)

by Linda Verji

  “That’s why it makes sense to double down on advertising,” Eric cut into Zeke’s morose thoughts. His age-lined face creased in thought, he suggested, “We need to increase the percentage of our spending on spreading our brand on online platforms like YouTube, Facebook and Twitter. That’s where our target market is these days.”

  “But after the great second quarter we just had that doesn’t make sense,” Arne Billard, the fortyish Global Chief Development Officer of the company, protested from across the table. “People already know us and recognize our brand. We should focus on growing, expanding into something new.”

  “Something new like what?” Edya Landa-Hollis asked. Despite being on the verge of touching sixty, she could be mistaken for a forty something woman. Any age line she might have had had been ironed out by botox and good surgeons and her hair was forceful black without even a hint of gray. She fixed her cold gaze on Arne as she added, “And I hope it’s not an idiotic idea.”

  Edya wasn’t even supposed to be here. After handing over the reins as the Group’s CEO to Zeke and taking on the decorative position of Executive Chairman, she was supposed to retire on some island in the Caribbean, and leave him to run the company. But she had become such a regular fixture at their staff meetings that Zeke was considering giving her more useful duties than bullying his staff.

  “Like Seniors Living Services,” Arne suggested, his tone more subdued. Sneaking an unsure glance at Edya, he added, “Assisted Living Facilities are an untapped market, and with our reputation for excellent services I think we could really make our mark there.”

  “They are also potential legal minefields,” Tricia Cleary, the company’s Chief Legal Counsel reminded Arne. The slim, auburn-haired woman continued, “People go to those places to die. I don’t think we want to be constantly fending off investigations and civil suits from relatives who don’t think their loved ones died of natural causes.”

  “Ezekiel,” Edya turned her piercing gaze to her son, who sat at the head of the table, “You’re the CEO. What do you think?”

  Zeke who’d been listening to the whole discussion in silent boredom straightened in his seat. “Both ideas have merit.” He turned to his second in command. “Eric, I agree that social media’s an important component of building our brand. But like Arne said, we had a great second quarter, it doesn’t make sense to increase advertising spending. I propose that instead of pumping more money into advertising, we shift dollars around. Cut back on what we’re spending on billboards and TV, then inject that cash into online advertising.”

  Eric’s eyes took on a thoughtful light as he nodded slowly. “That could work. That could work.”

  “Arne.” Zeke turned his attention to their CFO. “Expansion is a great idea. However, when my grandfather started the Landa Group of Hotels, his vision was that LGH would be the premier players in hotel ownership and management. I think we should focus on that vision first. Besides, having our hands in too many pies will dilute our brand. But like you said, we need to grow. I suggest we expand within our field. I just heard that Maryland Hotel in South Beach is in trouble.”

  “It is?” Arne’s eyes widened. “How don’t I know that?”

  “I have my sources,” Zeke said nonchalantly. “We don’t have a presence in South Beach. This is our opportunity to jump in and grab it before word leaks out to every other hungry shark. And with that we can expand and solidify our market share without diluting our brand. What do you think?”

  “I think you’ve got a point,” Arne agreed.

  “Okay, onto the next order of business…” Zeke continued. Like a well-programmed robot, he facilitated a discussion into the projects they had in the pipeline. He agreed with the good ideas, reined in the over-ambitious ones, threw in some of his suggestions - but he wasn’t really engaged.

  That spark was just not there - not any more.

  Perhaps he was going through a mid-life crisis. No! He was only thirty-six, way too young to be undergoing a mid-life crisis. But that’s certainly what it felt like - like he was twice his age and ready for retirement.

  Most days it was like he was just going through the daily motions of life - doing what needed to be done but not getting any pleasure out of it. He woke up, came to work, made heaps of money or connected with someone who’d make him heaps of money, went back to his lonely apartment and slept. Over and over and over again, the boring cycle continued. The only breaks from that tedious cycle occurred when he met up with his brothers and their families - where he was again reminded of how utterly unfulfilling his life was – or when he saw London

  London.

  As embarrassing as their last meeting had been, he couldn’t help the warmth that filled him every time he thought of her. The lady was a spite-fire with a tongue sharper than a razor and an unhealthy love of money - but there was just something about her that captivated him, drew him to her. She’d managed to do something that few people and things had managed to do in the last couple of years - interest him.

  And he couldn’t wait to see her again.

  Today was the Xin Monsters’ first performance at Landa-Heron and she’d be there. He planned to be there too.

  By the time the meeting ended, Zeke was mentally tapping in his feet in impatience. He snuck a glance at his watch as he and his mother waited for the rest of the senior management staff to file out of the boardroom. Five thirty. London’s performance should’ve started thirty minutes ago. His heart leapt in excitement at the thought of seeing her, listening to her.

  “Meredith told me that you haven’t called her,” Edya cut into his musings. Yup! She knew just how to ruin his mood.

  “Was I supposed to?” Zeke gave his mother an eyebrow raise.

  “That’s what we agreed on,” Edya returned curtly.

  “No, that’s what you asked me to do,” he countered. “And I told you I wouldn’t.”

  She was silent for a moment, her blue eyes mirroring his expressionless observation before she finally huffed, “Meredith will make a wonderful bride. She comes from excellent stock, she’s smarter than your average trust fund baby and she’s beautiful.”

  “I’m sure Meredith appreciates your vote of confidence.” He inclined his head. “And yes! She’ll probably make an excellent bride. Just not mine.”

  “Then who is?” His mother’s observant eyes raked him. “Have you found someone else?”

  “Mother, can we discuss something else?” Zeke hedged.

  “No.” Edya snapped. “You can’t continue delaying your marriage. Both your younger brothers are now married and people are starting to talk. Last week I had to quash an article on Radar Online that was speculating that you were-” She grimaced in obvious distaste before finishing, “- you were a homosexual.”

  “It’s just speculation,” Zeke dismissed. “It won’t affect Landa-Hollis Investments. I won’t let anyone push me into marriage until I’m ready. Not the press, not our board.” He wanted to add ‘and certainly not you’ but refrained.

  “And when do you plan to be ready?” Edya persisted.

  “I don’t know.” Zeke gathered the documents before them and stacked them into a black file. “Now, if you don’t have anything else to discuss I’d like to get home before traffic builds up.”

  His mother glanced at him, surprise in her eyes. “Since when did you start leaving the office so early?”

  “I have other things to do with my life besides work, you know.” he returned evenly as he pushed his seat back and stood.

  “Since when?” Edya countered.

  He wanted to be offended by her words - but what was the point of taking offense to the truth. His mother knew better than anyone how much of his life was devoted to the company, after all she was the one who’d brought him up to live, breathe and sleep it. But tonight, he felt like breathing something different, like doing something that was just for himself.

  Tonight, he wanted to take one night off from being Zeke Landa-Hollis.

 
; Tonight, he was just another guy in the audience listening to a beautiful woman singing.

  “I’ll see you and Winston on Thursday at the Remington Fundraiser, right?” he neatly evaded his mother’s question.

  “Yes,” Edya nodded as she stood up. “And please come with a date. You may not care about being thought of as being a homosexual but some of us still have an image to uphold.”

  Just for that he was attending the fundraiser without a date. As soon as he made his escape from his mother, he headed to Landa-Heron. The closer he got to the hotel, the lighter he felt, the more excited. It was only when he was checking the rearview mirror as he parked that he realized that he was smiling.

  CHAPTER 5

  Maybe you don’t understand how I’m wrapped up in you

  You don’t understand how crazy stupid your love makes me

  Your love is too much for me, yet it’s too little for me

  Baby, I can’t breathe when I’m around you

  But I don’t want to breathe when you’re not around me

  The moment he entered the hotel’s bar, he heard her.. Low, throaty, honeyed; her voice was as enchanting as the words that slid off her tongue and the rich, rhythmic, instrumental accompaniment from her band. It wrapped itself around him and pulled his gaze towards her. And what a sensual sight she made. From the way her eyes were closed as if she too were haunted by the words she sung, to the way she swayed gently to the music. Even if she was wearing a dirty sack and covered in ash, instead of in the sexy, purple, mid-thigh dress, her audience would’ve still been enthralled.

  And enthralled they were.

  He’d never seen quite this much of a crowd at the bar. Almost all the tables were filled with guests.. So riveted was her audience, his arrival barely drew any attention. Apart from a few smiling nods, he managed to get to one of the settees at the far end of the room without anyone stopping him. The moment, he sat down, a server rushed to his side and took his order. In no time, he had a glass of bourbon in his hand - the perfect accompaniment to London.

  Every time you touch me it tears me apart, puts me together

  Every time you kiss me, I see everything, I see only you

  Maybe you don’t understand how I’m wrapped up in you

  You don’t understand how crazy stupid your love makes me

  Your love is too much for me, yet it’s too little for me

  Even if he wanted to, Zeke couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. It almost felt like she was singing to him. Sucking in a deep breath, he leaned back in his seat and let her words flow over him. Each note she sang seeped into his blood and soothed him, melting the boredom and frustration he felt with his life.

  As she sung, her gaze swept across the room taking in each member of her captivated audience until it halted at his corner. The moment their eyes met, something clamped tightly around his heart and his breath caught in his throat. And when her eyes lit up and her lips tilted in a smile - a smile just for him - he almost leapt to his feet and strode towards her. It took immense effort to stay seated and lift his drink in silent salute. It was only when her attention drifted away from him that he began to breathe easy again.

  Awareness surged through the crowd when she finished the song. Coming back to life, they clapped politely. While the audience waited for the band to start their next song, they murmured amongst each other and looked around but no one left. In the midst of the beehive of activity, a few noticed Zeke and by the time London started her next set, he wasn’t alone anymore. Seamus Fenton, an English pro-football player, and Johan Danois, a Belgian chocolatier, had joined him in his corner.

  On most days Zeke didn’t mind the company of hotel guests. Tonight was not one of those days. He just wanted to sit in his corner and enjoy London. Nevertheless, he slipped easily into his role as hospitable host and welcomed them to his table. But even as he pretended interest in the two men’s boisterous conversation, he kept one eye - and ear - on London.

  By the time the band wound down at eleven, Seamus and Johan were still at Zeke’s table. Zeke caught London’s eyes, saw her hesitate as if she wanted to come to his table. Seeing his guests must’ve dissuaded her because, with a shrug, she turned and followed her band to the backroom. No, he couldn’t let her leave just like that.

  “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me for a minute,” he said as he stood. With reassurance that he’d be back, he left his guests and headed to the back room. He found the Xin Monsters there packing up for the night.

  “At this rate I’m going to start charging you fuel.” Their Asian drummer glared at London.

  “Aw, Come on, Saif,” London wheedled, “When I buy my own car, you know the front seat will always be yours.”

  “If he doesn’t want to give you a ride, I can take you home,” Enzo offered. “We can even-” He stopped speaking when he noticed Zeke standing at the door. Enzo’s sudden silence was enough to draw the rest of the band’s attention to Zeke.

  London’s face immediately broke into a smile. “Zeke. Hi.”

  “Hello.” He returned the smile.

  The rest of the band - well apart from Enzo - were just as excited to see Zeke. He spent the next few minutes accepting their thanks for hooking them up with the gig and congratulating them on the amazing performance. The conversation ended when Saif mentioned that he was late for his deejaying gig.

  “You guys just head out,” London said. “I need to talk to Zeke for a moment.”

  “What about that ride?” Saif asked as he hauled his backpack

  “Nah, I’m good.” London shook her head. “I’ll take a cab.”

  “I can wait for you,” Enzo offered.

  “She’s good,” Zeke responded before London could, his protective instincts rearing forward. Even though it looked like London and Enzo were back on good terms, Zeke still hadn’t forgotten how the man had grabbed London.

  “I’m good,” London backed him up. With a sulky nod, Enzo followed the rest of the band out of the room. Once they were all gone, London turned to Zeke with the same sunny, beautiful smile. “If I’d known you were going to be around for our performance I would’ve chosen a song just for you.”

  “I liked the ones you chose.” He tucked his hands into his pocket. “But just out of curiosity what kind of song would you have chosen?”

  “Hmm. You’re white, always so put together with your GQ suits and ties, got a bit of nerd in you, that ‘don’t be fooled by my tie’ vibe.” She tilted her head to the side as she assessed him. Her eyes glinting with amusement, she finally said, “I’d say rap.”

  “Rap?” He burst into laughter. From her assessment, he’d expected her to go with something like classical music or jazz. “How did you even get there? Rap? Really?”

  “Uh huh.” She nodded. “I know your type. A gentleman on the street and a freak in the dance-club. So yeah, I’m sticking with rap.”

  “A freak in the dance-club.” He chuckled. “I don’t even go to clubs.”

  “Lies.” She snorted, even as her eyes danced with laughter. “I bet every Saturday evening you’re out there with your bling and timbs, painting New York gold. I’mma start calling you L’il Zeke from now on.” She waggled her eyebrows as her gaze slid to his belt then back upwards to his face. She teased, “Or do you prefer Big Zeke?”

  “Now way. Big Zeke sounds like the name of a porn-star.” He shook his head, his grin still as wide as ever. Just a few minutes with her and he already felt much happier and lighter. And he didn’t want the feeling to end. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Ho ho ho.” She clapped twice as she chuckled. “Did you forget what happened the last time you, I and alcohol were in the same room?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” He folded his arms over his chest and leveled his narrow-eyed gaze on her. “I still think you cheated.”

  “You can think whatever you want. I still got paid.” She grinned. “And yes, I’ll take that drink. I never refuse a free drink.”

  He guffawe
d. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Just for that you’re paying my cab-fare too.” She rolled her neck.

  “Hell, no,” he protested. “Why-”

  “Mr. Hollis,” a voice cut into his words. They both turned to find the hotel head-concierge, Charlie, standing at the door. The salty-haired, slightly overweight man said, “I’m sorry to interrupt you but Mr. Fenton and Mr. Danois are asking for you.”

  It was enough to deflate the bubble of happiness that surrounded Zeke and London. Zeke nodded at the concierge. “Tell them I’ll be there in a moment.”

  “Very good, sir.” Charlie left.

  “I guess that means rain-check on the drink, huh?” London said. Zeke was unexplainably glad at the disappointment that flickered in her eyes.

  “Yeah.” Pushing his glasses up his nose, he asked, “Tomorrow?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged before throwing in a cheeky, “If I’m available.”

  “What else will you be doing?”

  “A lady never tells.” She hiked her purse higher up her shoulder before turning towards the door. “Bye, Zekey.”

  “Wait.” He reached for her hand before she could leave. When she turned back to him with a questioning look, he asked, “How are you getting home?”

  “Cab?”

  “No.” He shook his head and reached for his phone. “Let me get you one of the hotel cars.”

  When she didn’t protest, he made the call. He was exceedingly aware of the softness and daintiness of her fingers in his as he spoke to Landa-Heron’s manager and organized for a car for her. He knew that he should let go, yet he couldn’t. He expected her to let go, but she didn’t. And it was enough to elevate his heart rate. His gaze flickered to hers. There was nothing but curiosity in her gaze as she watched him speak to his manager.

  “Okay, thanks. She’ll be there in a few minutes,” he finally ended with the call with the manager. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he said, “The car’s out-front.”