by Lulu Astor
I shake my head, “No. I’m supposed to meet Lucien later but not here.”
Jumping up, he pulls on his jeans and shirt.
“Uh, Ian? Are you forgetting something?”
He grins in delight as he reaches over to unclip my legs, removing the cuffs and quickly massaging my hips and shoulders. “I’ll go see who it is while you get dressed. Then we’ll talk about our schedule.”
I want a shower in the worst way but I know I first have to deal with Ian and the timetable for the trip to Tokyo. I guess it’s back on for me and I have the rare pleasure of pissing off both Lucien and Ian in the same day. I should not have told Lucien I’d be in L.A. so fast but stupid is as stupid does. I hear Ian say something to someone and a deep voice responding as I throw my clothes back on and run my fingers through my wildly messy hair. When I look up, Ian is in the room and his narrowed eyes are cold and angry.
“Your employer is here, Ella. Get rid of him, please.” His voice is like ice.
Shit, he’s massively pissed. I slip into my shoes and step outside to talk to Lucien.
Chapter 23
Seething, Ian follows Ella back into the living room where Phillips is waiting to speak to her. He purposely left his shirt partially open and his feet bare, so it would be exceedingly clear to Phillips what they were doing when he so rudely interrupted with his visit. What Ian knew he’d really like to do is flatten the pretty, fair-haired boy for once and for all, and his hand is already closing into a fist. He forces it open: Ella might not get over such an event easily, and he’d just managed to make things right again after the Alexis debacle.
Alexis. What exactly was that woman up to? It reminded him all too well of what happened with Natasha five years ago. He’d stupidly trusted her—and she’d virtually destroyed him and everything he had worked so hard for, and he’d vowed to himself that it would never happen again. Can lightning strike twice?
“Lucien,” he hears Ella exclaim. “Did I get my wires crossed? I thought we were meeting later in West Hollywood?”
“Ella, hello.” Lucien reaches across to greet her with a warm handshake. “No, you didn’t get anything crossed. I had planned to meet later in Westwood, actually, at the UCLA film archives. Allow me to say I’m sorry to catch you at an inconvenient time— I managed a good few hours of sleep on the flight here so I thought we could get a quick start on the archival footage. I see you’re otherwise engaged, however?”
Phillips does not look like he just got off an international flight: his clothes are impeccably crisp and unwrinkled, and every hair is in place—he’s since grown a neatly groomed beard since he’s seen him last. Ian couldn’t hate the man any more if he tried with all his might. Plus, his innate radar for liars was going off like crazy: the man is slimy—Ian is one hundred percent certain of it. What he finds perplexing is how Ella, a very intelligent young woman, is blind to it. She’s always unaware of men trying to get into her hot little pants. Perhaps it’s because she’s not one to trade on her good looks? Ella has integrity so she probably expects others to have it too. What Ian was trying to prevent was her learning her lesson the hard way that it’s not the case. He turns his attention back to the conversation…
“…and I apologize, Lucien. As a matter of fact, I jumped the gun a bit when I told you I could meet you in L.A. so soon. My trip to Japan is back on and I have to return to Portland today. I won’t get back to L.A. until next weekend at the earliest.” She glances at Ian and he eyes her steadily, nodding slightly to confirm that yes, she needs to get back to Portland tonight.
“Ah, that won’t do. I’ll probably be gone by then. I have to make a quick stop in New York before I return to Paris but I do need to be back in France by middle of the following week.”
“Hmm, that’s unfortunate.” Ella says softly; she’s feeling anxious about the situation she’s created—albeit unintentionally.
Lucien’s face gives nothing away but he’s got to be annoyed by the unexpected turn of events. Ian smirks, pleased to be getting in Phillips’ way time and again. And rest assured, dear Lucien, I will continue to do so, he thinks and smiles broadly at the happy thought.
Checking his calendar on his phone, Lucien says, “I’ll just have to accomplish everything here myself then. It would have been helpful to have you along but I see it’s not possible,” he throws a cool glance at Ian.
So he doesn’t like me either? Ian thinks. I just may go home and weep over it. He returns the look with a glare that he usually reserves for his business rivals, shriveling even the most redoubtable corporate gangsters.
“I might be able to take care of whatever it is you have to do in New York… that is, if it’s work-related?”
Now Phillips smirks. “Yes, actually, it is. That may be quite helpful, Ella. Thank you, I’ll consider it and get back to you.”
Relief washes over her face and Ian can see her shoulders relax. “Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you then, Lucien. Please email me all the information—it might behoove me to fly directly to New York from Tokyo.”
“Very good, Ella,” he reaches over to take her hand again. “I hope you have a nice time in Japan.” He nods curtly to Ian. “Blackmon.”
Ian nods his head almost imperceptibly in acknowledgement. As soon as Phillips leaves, he pulls out his phone.
“Scott? Are you still in L.A.? Excellent. I’ll need the Gulfstream to return to Portland.” He looks at his watch as he speaks. “Two hours? Perfect.”
He punches in another number. “Jackson? Ian Blackmon. Yes, I received your messages. Anything to report?” He’s listening to Delacroix but his eyes are on Ella, watching her every move. He didn’t like how agitated she’d been about disappointing Phillips. “ I’m in L.A. right now but I’ll be returning to Portland later tonight. We leave for Tokyo tomorrow afternoon. Any chance you can meet with me in the morning? Yes.”
“Do you ever say thank you or goodbye to anyone?” Ella asks when he slides the phone back into his pocket. She’s also been watching him since Lucien exited the house.
“I show my appreciation in more concrete fashion, i.e. dollars and cents. Verbal niceties are a waste of time. I’m a man of few words, Ariel.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s called manners, Mr. Blackmon, not a waste of time.”
“Ariel,” he says in an admonishing tone of voice, his eyes and the set of his jaw telling her to stop dissing him; he holds out his hand to her. “Come. Let’s take a shower. We need to leave for the airport in an hour.”
After a long, hot shower, they prepare to leave for Portland. “It’s just seven now. We’ll probably hit the tail end of the L.A.-rush-hour, so we should head out now. We’ll dine on the flight to Portland, if that’s okay with you, Ella?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Will we be staying overnight at the houseboat?”
“No. I’ve moved back into the glass house—it’s more secure. I don’t intend to have any more middle of the night visitors.”
He looks at her from the corner of his eye when her head whips back to look at him. “No, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She smiles shyly.
At ten the next morning, Ian meets with Jackson Delacroix. When he arrives at the café, the blond attorney is waiting for him.
“Ian,” he gets up to shake his hand.
Ian nods, shaking his hand and pulling out a chair. “You mentioned a similar situation?”
Delacroix chuckles at the lack of pleasantries in Blackmon’s repertoire—he always gets right to the point. “Please, have a seat and order some coffee. I’ll make it quick, Ian; I know you’re pressed for time.”
He sits and Delacroix signals the waiter. “More coffee, please?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ian watches him patiently. “You mentioned over the phone that you’ve seen a similar situation?”
Delacroix nods, sipping his coffee. “After we spoke and you updated me on what happened with that woman, I felt a sense of déjà vu and I couldn’t recall exactly why. I
began to think of your situation five years ago, Ian: all your troubles began when you raided the energy company. Correct?”
He nods. “Yes, and that was the last hostile takeover I’ve ever executed, too. It was the day I developed a more honorable code of business ethics. So?”
“I happen to have a friend—probably the best corporate litigator in New York—by the name of Bradley Butler. His son Daniel is, for want of a better term, a venture capitalist. He basically does what you do: rescues ailing companies and shores them up again by infusing lots of cash and focusing on strengths. In return, he gets a controlling interest in the company. Although Daniel’s wildly successful, his father tells me his son is a reluctant participant in the corporate world. He fell into it when friends needed bailing out and he had the cash.
“Anyway, Butler was in the UK for personal reasons right after he rescued a friend’s energy firm—name of GeoTech—and set it on the road to black ink when the shit hit the fan. He had to rush back to the States to do major damage control. Here’s what happened.
“The company was holding an inordinately valuable patent on a new extraction technique and holding capacity for a geothermal system capable of high vertical density energy output—as in New York City- or Chicago-capability. It’s green, fairly inexpensive, and in such abundance, it’s ridiculous. The stock was going through the roof based on this patent that could potentially redefine the entire energy industry and give the oil companies serious competition. Daniel was sitting on the patent, not selling it or developing the system beyond a prototype, but instead using it as a bargaining chip for lucrative government contracts that Daniel was courting.
“He engineered the whole comeback based on this one patent that was already in development when he signed on. The company was cash poor precisely because it poured all its resources into R&D and had several patents pending. Daniel hired a brilliant PR team to make noise about it. He has a knack for making people sit up and take interest and so the company was rebounding without even utilizing the patent.
“This is where the criminal raiders come in,” he pauses for effect, seeing he has Blackmon’s complete attention. The waiter serves the coffee while the two men stare at each other. Ian is beginning to feel ready to explode because he senses what’s coming and it’s setting his blood to boil. It’s happening again, he thinks with incredulity.
“While Daniel is out of the country, these ghosts start acquiring as much stock as they could get their hands on. Daniel had controlling interest but he didn’t have enough to ensure it—I think he owned something like 40 percent. They managed to acquire nearly that in a few short weeks. Daniel got back and bought out the stock of his friends and all the employees to give him over fifty percent so they couldn’t wrest away control regardless. He figured he’d eventually give it back to them when they could get their hands on the stock held by the raiders.
“So, now, they can’t get to the patent legally, they resort to illegal measures. They use a blond who looks like she could snag the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit cover and have her go after Daniel’s partner in GeoTech, a guy by the name of Stephen Hemingway. They begin dating, get hot and heavy, and she’s trying to get info on the design so they could at least try to steal much of it, regardless of the patent. Plus, she’s looking for any intel they could use against GeoTech. Daniel had managed to put out the fire but the blond subsequently did enough damage with the information theft that the company almost went under again.
“Fortuitously, GeoTech was already in the final stages of negotiation with the state of New York, for new building projects. Plus, they had quietly approached an established green-energy company about purchasing the patent and working in concert with them to develop the system. In effect, the criminals were a bit late with the espionage or it might have worked.
“I discussed the whole matter at great length with his father and we concluded that it had to be the oil companies behind it. The attempt was well financed and executed professionally. The only reason it didn’t succeed was because Daniel was able to keep the lid on the patent until he was ready to move on it. Nothing was ever proven, of course, but Mr. Hemingway is a lot more careful with his romantic prospects.” He laughs.
“I am beginning to think the espionage that brought down Blackmon Enterprises may have been engineered by the same raiders, Ian. Fits the MO. You had acquired a green-energy firm, one of the earliest success stories in the burgeoning industry. They used Natasha Grierson to get to you. Unfortunately, that time they were successful. Still, you didn’t have to dismantle the entire corporation over it. I never understood your motivation for going to such an extreme.”
Ian can feel a tight knot congeal in his stomach. The betrayal was by far the worst of the whole ugly affair. He loved Natasha, had trusted her, and she sold him out to the highest bidder. That unforgivable betrayal had led him straight to the dark doors of BDSM, where he found a way to get his physical needs met without engendering any emotional risk.
He attempts a cavalier façade for the attorney and shrugs his broad shoulders. “I was ready to move on—I didn’t like the man I’d become. Hostile takeovers are not honorable endeavors merely because they’re euphemistically called M&As. It’s outright theft, no matter what anyone names it, and it causes a lot of people to lose their livelihoods. Frankly, I couldn’t sleep at night after a while. I much prefer the considerably more civilized approach we take at Excalibur.”
Delacroix smiles. “I think you mentioned that Ariel has to go to New York on business periodically?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Might I suggest you accompany her next time and have a meeting with Daniel Butler? He just might be able to shed more light on this matter before the situation escalates.”
“Very good. I’ll do that. Can you text me his contact information and advise him of our conversation so he knows to expect a call from me? Ella will be traveling directly to New York from Tokyo, and if things permit, I’ll travel with her at that time.”
“Good. Yes, I’ll call Daniel in the morning. How long will you be in Japan?”
“Only till the weekend. While I’m gone, I’ll make sure Jarvis increases security both at my estate and at Excalibur. Alexis Martinez was arrested but as I told you, she was summarily released on her own recognizance. I don’t think they’ll use her again but we’ll want to be on high alert in any case.”
Finishing their coffee, Ian signals the waiter for the check and hands him his credit card. “I do appreciate your taking the time out of your weekend to meet with me, Jackson. I’m going to leave you to your breakfast now since I have to take care of a few things before our flight leaves.”
“Okay, thanks for breakfast, Ian, and I’ll be in touch soon. Adios.”
The first-class cabin is only half full so the flight is peaceful, evocative of the days when air travel was not such a fraught ordeal. Still, ten and a half hours is a long flight and he is glad when it’s over. He’d been able to knock out some paperwork while Ella slept and even squeezed in a hour’s nap himself. Noticing Ella rousing as the plane begins its descent, he grasps her hand.
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
His reward is a megawatt smile and his heart lurches upon seeing it. “I feel ridiculously good, considering how much time I’ve been spending on planes these days.”
“Yes, you’ve been the world traveler of late, haven’t you? Well, Ms. Strong, you are now about to set foot in Japan. What would you like to see while we’re here?”
“Definitely Fuji. And I want to take the bullet train.
“Modest enough aspirations. We can do both in one afternoon. Anything else?”
“Lots,” she nods. “I’ll need to do some surfing on the Internet to decide what to fit into this short trip.” She squeezes his hand with hers. “When will I be on my own?”
Glancing sharply at her he asks, “On your own?”
“I mean,” she says flushing, “when do you have to work?”
/> “I have a meeting set up for early Tuesday morning with a group of my investors. At that time, I’ll determine how much time and effort I need to invest in them. May I get back to you on that?” He smiles sardonically.
“Yes, you may.” She stretches and yawns. “I can’t wait to get off this plane. Where are we staying anyway?”
His lips twitch. “Some dump called the Imperial Hotel Tokyo.”
“Ah, I’ve heard about that fleabag hotel. Couldn’t we do better?”
“You know, while I have to work, you should treat yourself to some spa time at the hotel. You deserve it,” he says, kissing her hand. He’s beginning to understand how much he cares for this girl and it’s massively unsettling. All those months apart when she was in Cambridge, he’d begun to believe he was in love with her. When he’d failed to get her back, he somehow convinced himself it was all just a delusion on his part. But now? Now he was once again faced with the uncomfortable truth: it took his breath away if he allowed himself to dwell on it.
“Let me know when you hear back from that smarmy guy you work with about going to New York.” He looks at her, brazenly challenging her to complain about his characterization of Lucien.
She doesn’t take the bait. “Why?”
“I need to meet with someone in New York. I may just travel with you directly from Tokyo, depending on the timing and what’s going on at the office.”
“Oh? That would be so nice.” She snuggles up to him and he puts his arm around her. Mmm, she smells so good, like sunshine with a hint of sandalwood. He’s looking forward to having her in his arms tonight; he never enjoyed sleeping with a woman so much as he did with Ella. In fact, he rarely did sleep with anyone before meeting Ella. She’d inspired him to break so many of his own habits and rules, all without even knowing it. He shakes his head in consternation. Just as that thought dissolves, he feels the landing gear gently bounce on the runway. Ah, Tokyo.
Chapter 24