No. He was not going to play into political mud-slinging. Politics was deadly. And it could be even deadlier when one wasn’t up front about everything.
“Where are you going, Carl?” his grandfather queried as Carl grabbed his keys from the table.
“To work. We have some new equipment coming in to the gym.”
“I said earlier that I’d handle it, Carl. I’ve just got to meet with that supplier from Buffalo,” Jules interjected.
“It’s okay, Jules. I’ve got it covered.”
Carl then thanked everyone who had turned up this morning to meet and discuss how he was going to deal with this latest debacle in the headline. “I need to clear my mind. To think,” he continued, his voice hard and low.
“Carl, do you want me to go ahead with the statement we talked about?” Pamela asked.
“No. Not yet. I…I haven’t officially announced my run yet. Right now, I think, no response is the best response. We’ll strike back with something better.”
“Hey, Carl, I’ll have our boys look into who’s behind printing up all this junk about you,” Jules interjected. The Romeros had their own private detective agency that handled certain situations they often encountered. Least was they often vetted everyone who worked around or near the family. They rarely took chances with business associates … or competitors. “I’m pretty sure it’s Leechwood. That’s usually his style. He’s as mean and dirty as they come. He’s been known to set up his past opponents and competitors in his business dealings.”
“I know,” Carl said, his jaw clenched. He could taste the bitterness on his tongue, at the mere mention of that man’s name. Leechwood. His nemesis.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Carl continued. “Pamela, I’ll be in touch with you this afternoon.”
With those words, Carl strode out of the study.
“Hey, bro, are you taking the chopper into Toronto?” his brother Jules called out to him. The Romeros were one of few families that owned a helipad on their sprawling estate. Often as an alternative to the long commute into the city of Toronto from Mayberry Hill. They owned several lakefront condominiums in addition to several skyscrapers on Bay Street in the business district—often dubbed the Wall Street of Toronto. No surprise since Toni Romero was a real estate mogul who owned properties and land all over the nation and even some internationally.
“Nah. I’m good. I’m driving in. I need to think.”
“Don’t think and drive, bro. Could be dangerous.”
Carl rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever.”
* * *
Later, Carl drove along the main road in his convertible. He knew his sports car was one luxury that probably had to go, he thought to himself as the summer wind rustled his hair. A young dude like himself driving a luxury convertible would probably send the wrong message to voters.
What was with him? Why did he give a damn what others thought of him? His car had voice-activated controls and he ordered for Venus, his assistant, to be called. Venus was a together, young woman who worked hard as hell. She was all too eager to work with him on his upcoming campaign. She was a single mother with a two-year-old. An odd girl. Quiet, hard working, efficient and always saying a kind word, but distant at times. He would often catch her ogling him but then she would turn her attention elsewhere while blushing whenever their eyes locked.
And man, she was hot. A surge of heat shot through his body thinking of her on their recent trip to Jamaica and how well she filled out her bathing suit while on the beach. Her glowing, tanned complexion, dark, silky, long, thick hair and large brown eyes captivated Carl the most. She was one of the finest women he’d ever set eyes on and yet she never flaunted her assets. And man, what an ass she had. She had a petite waistline that accentuated her wide, curvy hips. Carl was getting hard thinking about her.
He tried to squash the thought of anything that could arouse him sexually right now. He had other things he should be thinking about—like his upcoming bid for mayor.
Focus, Carl.
Carl had noticed in the past that Venus’s defenses always seemed to go up whenever he would ask about her family in Kansas or from wherever it was that she had travelled. She was originally from some island in the Mediterranean but rarely spoke about that.
An odd thought crossed his mind. She had been struggling for so long and…he wondered if she would…? No. He wasn’t even going to entertain that thought. Heck, he could win this campaign on his own merit. Without a wife and kid.
For some reason, Carl took a detour off the main road and maneuvered down Chancery Lane. His heart was beating thunderously in his chest, bashing against his rib cage. It was almost painful for him to breathe. He pulled up to the curb of number 123. It was a white brick bungalow. Three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms. He looked over at the side and could still see the tree that had been carved with some initials.
Carl got out of his car and leaned against it. His vision blurred with tears of pain, his lips pinched together into a thin line.
Memories.
Painful, unbearable memories.
He remembered as a youngster, looking out at the window at top. His father had just gotten home from work, dread in his eyes. His mother, who was battling breast cancer, had been suffering from depression. She did her best with her boys. Dad had just lost his job. They were already behind in payments at the bank.
But property taxes had risen, and even if Dad had another job, there was no way in hell he could pay what he owed the municipal government.
It was right there in that very spot where his car was parked across the street that he and his brothers and his parents watched as their home was auctioned off. They had nowhere to go.
His eyes were blurry with salty moisture.
Carl’s family had lost their home. Soon after that, they had agonizingly lost their precious mother.
Did the local government even care or assist them in time? Dad did his best. No one could have stepped in to help them at the time. They had a cousin in Virginia but that was a long shot. She couldn’t take in his father, not with seven young boys.
Carl wiped his eyes, his anger still seething through his body.
He was damned if he was going to let that scene play out again, whether with himself or another family.
The address at 123 Chancery Lane was one of a few homes they’d had. Their father’s car was another home until authorities stepped in. Then they lived in a low-income housing project down the street at number 490 Chancery Lane in apartment 14A. They’d all crammed into that little crap place. Though they were thankful to be out of the old minivan. So they ended up going to the same school, as difficult as that was. But they’d always hoped they would have gotten their home back. That never happened.
Carl glanced at his watch. He didn’t know what shot through his body in that moment. But it was a high-powered electrical surge that raced through his blood and pumped some idea into his head!
He changed his mind. Coming down memory lane, as painful as it was, was an omen, he mused. A good omen.
Carl decided just then that he was going to announce his candidacy. But he was going to do it, not as a bachelor, but as a doting husband and family man. Of course, marriage could never be on his agenda for long term. His past with women had already dictated his fate. He could never trust a woman—again. But it wasn’t just about having had his trust betrayed, was it?
His heart squeezed in his chest at the thought of the hell he had gone through with his ex-girlfriend, Nea. He thought she was the one, until he found out that she’d been sleeping with his best friend—his ex-best friend. That really did a number on his nerves and smashed his heart and soul to pieces. Since then, commitment was always an issue with him. He wasn’t going to give another woman the chance to hurt him that way again.
Anyway, he wasn’t going to waste another thought on it. He had a campaign to run and a plan of action to implement. Marriage to Venus, assuming she accepted his proposition, would be for
the purpose of image only. It would be short term. Nothing more. He knew she was going through a difficult patch in her own life and often talked about wishing she had more support. Well, this would be a win-win situation. They would both benefit from being married—to each other.
Hell, he was going to do anything he could to boost his reputation so he could win that seat and make the changes necessary to keep his end of the deal he’d made to his mother on her deathbed.
He was going to run for mayor of the city.
And he was going to win.
CHAPTER TWO
“Okay, sweetie,” Venus Jackson directed her two-year-old son, Tristan, “just remember to breathe into this little chamber.” She held the Disney designed aero-chamber in front of him. He was always fussy when it came to taking his asthma medication.
She glanced at her watch. It wasn’t easy being a single mother who worked outside the home. Venus was constantly juggling between taking care of her sweet little angel with his medical needs and the workload of an executive assistant to an extremely busy employer. A charming boss, but busy nonetheless. She had heard her cell phone ringing moments ago but couldn’t answer it. Not while she was giving Tristan his medicine. This part of her morning routine always took forever.
Her little boy shook his head and wrinkled his nose.
Venus was already running late for work. She was supposed to meet Carl Romero in his office at the main office at R.M. Fitness Center. They were expecting the latest state-of-the-art equipment for the facility. But that wasn’t all. She was going to be helping him with his campaign. She was all too eager to take on the new role as his assistant campaign manager while transferring her current administrative duties to a fellow employee.
Oh, she daydreamed about Carl sexy-as-sin Romero almost every waking hour. It was as if fantasizing about him kept her going in more ways than one. A grin warmed her face just thinking about Carl with his tall six-foot-two-inch frame. It was no surprise that he would run a successful health and fitness center franchise with his brother since they embodied fitness. Carl was muscular and firm. He was well dressed in his dark designer suits when he attended meetings and filled out deliciously with his broad shoulders and lean frame. But when he was in his gym gear, it was heaven to her eyes. Venus often surreptitiously glanced at him while he worked out in the gym on the weights, his smooth skin and ripped muscles glistened with moisture. The health club was bright and airy and had a unique design with offices overlooking most of the facility. Her office had a window that overlooked part of the main gym. She often saw other female employees ogling her boss, but she never openly let her own feelings about him be known. It wasn’t as if she even had a chance with him.
She’d always harboured a secret attraction to her boss. But she could never reveal that. She’d come close to letting herself go in Jamaica at his brother Zack’s wedding but she knew that she was destined to be a single mother. She could never be with any man. Not now. Not ever. It would be too dangerous, given her past and the lie she was forced to live.
“Okay, now one, two and three, breathe in,” she chanted, pulling a funny face so that Tristen would laugh. It often calmed his nerves down a bit. He giggled at first then he allowed her to place the mask portion of the aero-chamber to cover his mouth and nose so that he could inhale. She squeezed the blue inhaler into the chamber and he inhaled as she counted.
Tristan breathed in and out slowly into the smooth, long, plastic chamber.
“Good, sweetie,” Venus praised him. She was just grateful that he was allowing her to give him his medication this morning. At times, she would have tumultuous days when he was literally screaming at the top of his lungs and refusing to put his lips close to the mask. He needed to take his puffers daily for a maintenance dose to keep his lungs from getting inflamed again—according to her son’s pediatrician.
After she finished giving him the two required inhalation doses, Venus took Tristan to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. “Okay, honey, remember what the doctor said. After you have your blue puffer then your orange puffer, you need to rinse your mouth.” She helped him onto the stool so that he was at the level for the sink and she reached for a disposable cup from its holder and filled it with tap water.
“Cup!” Tristan shouted.
“Yes, that’s right, honey. We’re going to fill the little cup with water. And you’re going to sip and spit the water back out, okay?”
He nodded, looking more jovial. Tristan loved this part.
While she was assisting Tristan, Venus’s cell phone rang again. She wondered who could be trying to reach her so desperately at this time of the morning. It wasn’t as if she had plenty of people calling her these days. It had to be her handsome boss, Carl, or perhaps her friend, Blue, who was now married to Carl’s brother, Zack.
She smiled at the memory of her time in Jamaica for Blue and Zack’s nuptials just a couple of weeks ago. It was much needed rest and relaxation she craved. Aside from Blue’s wedding, of course. And Tristan had a wonderful time, too. The island’s clean air had done his lungs wonders. The resort where they stayed had a splendid daycare that was free to guests. It was a remarkable package that didn’t come cheap. Venus would have been all too glad to pay her own way but the Romeros insisted they pay for everyone.
Prior to working for Carl, Venus was employed by his brother Zack at the Romero Winery and Vineyard after her placement there. She was in college part time advancing her studies in Business but she would often take time off to look after her little guy. Finding affordable daycare was always a bitter challenge. Sometimes, Venus didn’t know how she could go on like this. But it was a blessing when the Romero family took her on. They had a reputation for treating their employees like family. At times, when Venus’s babysitter did not show up, she would be stuck but Zack and now Carl always insisted that she bring her toddler in. At the Romero Estate, they had someone who could watch over Tristan. And currently at R.M. Fitness, where a daycare was located in the building, Venus often left Tristan there with comfort knowing that her son would only be a few steps away from her and in good hands. Sometimes, she felt indebted to the wonderful and powerful Romeros. Venus was a hard worker and would do almost anything for that family. Almost anything.
Finally, after Venus assisted Tristan with his jacket, she was ready to head out the door. After she buckled him in his stroller, she answered her cell phone that had rung yet again.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Venus.”
“Yes?”
“It’s Amber Johnson-Murray from the Murumbian Consulate.” The young woman on the other end of the phone line had a smooth, low voice that sounded slightly hoarse. Yet, her voice delivered words that Venus did not want to hear.
Venus felt her heart thump hard in her chest. Goose pimples sprang up on her skin. A chill filled her body like nothing she had felt before. Except for…that fateful night. The Murumbian Consulate? That could only mean one thing, and one thing only. Oh, God! She dreaded the day she would receive a phone call from them.
“Y-yes?” Venus tried to calm the emotion in her voice. Instinctively, Venus knelt beside her son’s stroller and placed her hand on his while he played with his soft toys on the hand rest of the pushchair. She remembered meeting Amber once, a long time ago, when Venus arrived in Canada. They had a brief conversation and Amber told her that everything would be okay and that Venus should not hear from them again, unless…
“First of all, how are you and Tristan doing?” Amber sounded calm but Venus wasn’t convinced. She knew what was coming. Why didn’t Amber just cut the casual chit-chat and tell Venus the real reason for the unexpected phone call?
Venus’s fingers were trembling. She looked at her son in the stroller. He was cheerfully playing with his toys and didn’t even have a clue that his mother was on edge. That was good. Protecting Tristan’s well-being was the only thing that mattered. “We…we’re fine,” Venus answered, breathless. Her breathing was becoming shallow
to her chagrin. Why was she nervous? She knew what she had to do. It would be that simple. She was going to have to run again. So what? She knew this day might come.
“Good to hear that, Venus,” Amber continued, breathing a deep sigh over the phone. “Listen, Venus. I’m not going to take up too much of your time but you probably realize the reason for this call.”
Venus was silent yet her heart pounded loudly in her chest.
“Well, as we had discussed before, if Eduardo ever got released then-”
“No!” Venus squeezed her eyes shut. Her body trembled. “Don’t tell me anymore.”
Startled, Tristan looked up from his toys. “Mama?”
She opened her eyes again and tried to put on a courageous face for her son. “It’s okay, baby. Mama’s fine,” she said, her voice soft and wavering.
She stood up with the cell phone pressed to her ear. Her eyes stung with moisture. She would not cry. She was not going to cry today. How could this be? How could Eduardo be released?
“How could they release that…monster?” Venus said, gasping for a satisfying breath. She hugged herself as she leaned against the door for support, facing her son in the stroller. She was supposed to be heading out the door to work but how could she work now?
“He was not released, Venus.”
“But you just said-”
“I know,” Amber’s voice sounded apologetic. “Listen, can we meet sometime today?”
“Why? What is it that you want to tell me?” Venus grew more concerned.
“Venus, Eduardo has escaped. The consulate got the news this morning.”
Venus felt her blood run cold.
“Escape? But how? He was supposed to be in maximum security!”
“I’m sorry. You know his background. That’s all I have to go on right now. We will update you further but-”
The Billionaire's Proposition (The Romero Brothers, Book 4) Page 2