by Tia Siren
“Oh, yeah. Just a bit tired, I guess.”
“How did the networking session go last night?”
“It went fine,” I said. “I’m not sure it was as productive as Mr. Jacobs thought it would be. They spent most of the evening picking his brain about things.”
“Did you pick up some knowledge while you were there?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. I just think he expected a different outcome for the evening is all. Either way, I came out of it with some valuable knowledge.”
“That’s good, sweetheart. Good, good.”
My father looked older. Tired. There was concern etched around his eyes that I quite couldn’t place. I was worried about him. Worried he was spreading himself too thin or that things with Mel were going south. My father didn’t date much after Mom died, so it was a shock when he announced he was getting remarried. Sissy loved the idea of Dad falling in love again, but I couldn’t stand it, especially with her being Sissy’s age.
“You look a bit tired, Dad,” I said. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“No, honey. Nothing you need to be concerned with. This new deal just has me up all night with changing figures and crap. Boring stuff about the market.”
I knew he was keeping his explanation vague because he thought I had no knowledge of things like that, but I let it slide. He was obviously tired and would probably jumble his words anyway, and I wasn’t in the mood to pick out the bits and pieces that made sense.
I was worried about my father.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You know I love you, right?”
Shock rolled over his face, and it curled my stomach in on itself. The idea that my father was shocked that I’d say something like that told me a great deal about how I’d been acting recently, and it brought tears to my eyes.
“I do now,” he said.
“I really do,” I said. “I’ve always looked up to you. You’re the reason I went into business in the first place, so we could have something in common, so you would be proud of me.”
He winced, like I’d just pierced his heart with an arrow. I stood there, gripping my coffee cup, hoping I hadn’t said too much. All of a sudden, my father got up from his chair and rounded the desk. He took me into his arms and pulled me close, and for the first time in years, I felt the comfort and warmth I had associated with my father when I was younger.
“I am proud of you, sweetheart,” he said as he kissed the top of my head. “So very proud of the woman you’re blossoming into.”
I knew our relationship was still fragile, so I decided not to press anymore subjects. I wanted things to remain just like this. I wanted to etch this moment into my memory for good, to cling to it the next time I fucked up, or the next time Mel fucked up, or the next time he fucked up.
Because the truth was, people fucked up all the time.
“Can I ask you something, sweetheart?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Why does Dylan have a bruise on his jaw?” he asked.
I pulled back with a smirk and shook my head before I sighed.
“Remember those protective moves you showed me before I went off to college? The punches and kicks and how to get out of special holds?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Let’s just say your junior executive doesn’t quite understand the word ‘no,’” I said.
Anger boiled behind my father’s eyes before he pulled me back into a hug. He kissed the top of my head one last time, squeezing me before he let me go. He scooted by me and reached for his door, slinging it open as he stepped out into the hallway.
“Dylan Anderson,” he roared. “My office! Now!”
At least my father no longer looked exhausted.
Chapter 35
Grant
I couldn’t believe my eyes as Paul slid the documents into my hand. The I.P. addresses from the changes in the monetary transactions had finally been tracked, and they were all the same. They all matched the I.P. address of the unauthorized laptop that had been smuggled into the building.
The same laptop registered with the name A.M.House.
“And you’re sure this is correct?” I asked.
“I double- and triple-checked,” Paul said. “I even ran the latest altered transactions from last week. They’re all coming from the same I.P. address. This I.P. address.”
I still had no fucking clue what this had to do with the company, which meant there was a part of this puzzle I was still missing. Was he simply using the purchasing of the company as a cover? Maybe he thought he could turn all our heads long enough to skim off a desired sum before purchasing the company himself?
Was this about gaining power back somewhere?
“Is there anything else you need me to do?” he asked.
“No. This was what I needed,” I said. “Thank you. You can go, if you’d like.”
“I’m a phone call away if you need anything else,” he said.
I knew the bad company deal Alex was pushing and the transactions were linked. I just had to keep digging. I opened up my desk and drew out the folder that had all the information I’d gathered. I began to sift through it.
I was looking through all the highlighted transactions, all the paperwork that had bounced between Alex and the company before I went to New Orleans. There were rough figures thrown out, but nothing substantial that should’ve ever told Alex this deal was as stable as he thought it was. I circled things in a red marker and set them to the side, slowly backtracking a theory that had finally flooded the forefront of my mind.
Alex was never one to take without giving back. He hated being indebted to people. He started this company without a lick of debt, so he owed nothing to anyone. Hell, this was a man who didn’t even want a fucking board of investors until his late wife convinced him otherwise. He wanted to be completely self-made and self-sufficient.
Which meant if Alex was taking these funds, he wasn’t going to take them without a way to replace them.
I went over the numbers Alex fed me and recalculated them again. Just like I’d found before, they were much lower than what he’d fed me, and I realized that was probably to whet my palate and get engaged in the entire process. I found paperwork already signed by Alex, with signature places for all the men I’d sat in those meetings with.
He’d been so gung-ho for going to New Orleans because he was ready to close on a deal that was only half as lucrative as he told me it would be.
What the fuck was going on?
Then suddenly, a light went off. I brought out a calculator and did a few additions and found that the amount of money that he had already skimmed from the company’s budgets was almost identical to the amount of profit acquiring this company would give us right off the bat. The almost five-hundred thousand that had already sunk into his pocket would be only one-hundred thousand shy of the money we’d make within the first month of the acquisition. That was why Alex wanted this to close to desperately.
That was how he was going to replenish the money. He was going to replace it with the first month’s profits, as well as with a few kickbacks he’d been promised from members of the board of the company. I found insurance paperwork that had already been taken out on the company acquisition, payable to only Alex if the deal went south.
At any other moment in time, this wouldn’t have been a big deal. But the amount of insurance money he’d taken out was absolutely enormous for the type of company Tike Oils was. An insurance policy just to get back what we’d put in would’ve been fine, but this insurance paperwork was filed for a whopping fifteen million dollars.
Alex was planning on cashing in whenever this deal went south, and that was why he’d yanked it from his junior executives.
Raking my hands through my hair, I sat back in my chair. My mind was swirling with all the pieces that were dropping into place, and I just couldn’t believe what the fuck was happening. Alex was embezzling from J&M, had plans to rep
lace it with the money we’d get the first month into this acquisition, then planned to cash in at a whopping eleven million dollars after replacing the four million I intended to invest should we have proceeded with the deal.
I turned myself toward the window as tears crested my eyes. Alex Marks was my best fucking friend, the man I went to when my dreams of my late wife resurfaced. He was the man I’d told I would help after I bought his company. The man I’d opened my home to. The man I played golf with. The man I drank the good scotch with as we sat at his table and talked about anything and everything but work. He was the only man I’d ever found who knew the pain of losing a spouse, and I always knew I could go talk to him if it became too much.
Why the hell would he do this to the company he built from the ground up?
Why would he do this to us?
“Mr. Jacobs?”
Crissy’s voice startled me, but I knew I couldn’t turn around. I had to gather myself before I could look at her. Otherwise, I’d see her father in her eyes. I’d be done for if I turned around, and she would surely be worried.
I didn’t need more emotion linked to her than there already was.
“Yes, Miss Marks?’
“It’s almost five o’clock,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m packing up to go home. Do you need anything?”
“Yes,” I said. “You for dinner tonight at my place.”
“I can do that,” she said. “First, I’ll have to head home and give the family some sort of excuse. Shoot me your address, and I’ll see you around seven?”
“You mean you don’t remember the way yourself?” I asked, still not turning around.
“I was paying attention to…the view.” I could hear the grin in her voice, and it fluttered my heart. I realized there was nothing that Crissy couldn’t make better. After a realization like that, letting her go would be that much harder.
“I’ll see you at seven sharp,” I said.
I had no idea how I was going to start this conversation with Crissy, but I knew she had to be the first to know. Not just because it was her father, but because of all she’d done in order to get me the pieces of the puzzle I needed. I turned around when I knew she was gone and gathered the papers I’d need to show her. Then I grabbed my coat and set off for my car.
A very special meal with a potent wine would have to be served with this conversation.
A conversation I still didn’t know how I would begin.
Chapter 36
Crissy
I got home and went in search of my father, but ironically, he was nowhere to be found. Sissy wasn’t home, and Mel was probably out spending my father’s money again on some frivolous purchase. So I left a note on the refrigerator door. I just told them all I was going out to dinner with a friend and that I’d be back in pretty late. Then I made my way upstairs and tried to figure out what I would wear.
I heard my phone vibrate on the bed. No doubt it would be Grant sending me his address. I flipped through the things in my closet, trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. This was something that hadn’t been planned beforehand, and a part of me was excited. All his lessons for me had been planned out up until this point, so I knew this wasn’t just any old lesson.
Maybe my dream was about to come true. Maybe this was the night where Grant Jacobs told me he was in love with me, too. It’d be hard, what with me working for him and our age difference, but I knew we could get through it. We were strong as a couple. That power couple you always saw on television.
I knew that could be us.
I pulled out a deep orange dress that clung to every curve I had. I slipped it over my head, pulling it down my shoulders before I hiked my tits up in it. It was padded just enough to cover up the barbells, but not enough to where my erect nipples wouldn’t poke through. I decided to forego the panties and wear my matching orange heels. Then I flipped my hair over and fluffed it out. It was full of volume and ready for Grant to wrap his fingers in. I sighed, and my body shivered with anticipation for what was to come.
I could feel it in my bones.
He was going to tell me tonight, and I would say it back.
I touched up my makeup and splashed on a deep red lipstick, then threaded some earrings into my ears. I smoothed my hands over my dress one last time, my shoulders bare for him as my curves shone through the fabric. Then I grabbed my coat. The air was chilly tonight. Foreboding, if I didn’t know any better. I was ready to be in the warm, strong arms of Grant for the night, and part of me almost amended the note I left on the fridge. Part of me wanted to write that I would be gone for the evening just so I could stay in his arms.
But something inside told me that was a bad idea.
I took out my phone and typed in his address. I listened to the navigation guide me to his house, but once I hit a certain point, I remembered where to go. I pulled up behind his car and made my way to the porch, foregoing ringing the doorbell and simply walking in.
“Grant?”
I shrugged off my coat and hung it up as smells from the kitchen wafted up my nose. Salmon and lemon and butter floated around my head as light hints of garlic trailed underneath my nostrils. My heels clicked across the floor as I walked through his massive foyer, and that was when I finally heard his voice ring out.
“Care for some wine? There’s a glass on the table just for you.”
The blood-red wine matched my lips, and as I came into the kitchen, I saw the spread he was cooking. Homemade yeast rolls and steamed vegetables. Massive slabs of salmon and mashed sweet potatoes. He looked like he was prepared to feed an army, but all I could do was salivate. I had no idea the man could cook like this.
Was there anything he couldn’t do?
I went over to the glass of wine on the table and picked it up. It was odd for Grant to have not looked at me by now, but maybe he was just timing the salmon. I’d never cooked with it before, but I knew timing was everything. I sipped on the wine, noticing how heavy in alcohol it was, and I smirked. He didn’t have to get me loose in order to have his way with me. I’d lovingly give myself to him time and time again.
Smelling this dinner only solidified what he was going to do. You didn’t cook a meal like this for someone unless you had something important to tell them.
And I was ready for those words to hit my ears.
“I hope you’re ready for—”
His words caught in his throat as he turned around with the salmon. He stood there, his jaw agape, as his eyes caressed my body. I cocked my hip out as I tipped the wine up to my lips, watching him as he watched me. For a second, his chest didn’t move with his breaths, and it wasn’t until I called his name that he began breathing again.
“I’m ready for whatever the night brings,” I said.
“You look incredible,” he said.
“And you cook incredible,” I said, grinning at him. “I didn’t know you had such a talent.”
“I was the cook in my family, even growing up. Just something that developed out of necessity.”
I loved learning new things about him. Things about how he was raised and how he lived his life before me. I wanted to know it all. I wanted to sit for hours while he talked. I wanted to know all the ins and outs of his life. His secrets and his motivations. I wanted to know his fears, and what kept him up at night, gnawing at him. I wanted to know what he held dear, and what was most important to him.
What he loved.
“Sit,” he said. “Take a load off.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, winking.
He tipped the salmon onto my plate before he plated his. He seemed a bit rigid, like there was something plaguing his mind. He filled his wine glass before he sat across the table from me, not beside me like he usually did. I saw a folder sitting on one of the chairs, filled to the brim with paperwork.
“Bringing your work home, I see,” I said.
The sentiment didn’t garner me so much as a grunt, much less a verbal respons
e.
We ate in relative silence, and his eyes didn’t come up to mine again. For a man who was about to profess his love to me, he sure was acting weird. I tried to do little things, like tuck my hair behind my ear or scoot my foot toward him, but he was too far away for me to reach. At one point, I even coughed, trying to get him to whip his gaze up to me to see if I was all right.
But all he did was continue to drink his wine and eat his dinner.
“All right, Jacobs. What gives?”
“Hmm?” he hummed.
“You’ve been distant all evening,” I said. “You cook this fabulous meal, but them we eat in silence. You haven’t once attempted to wiggle me out of this dress. I came panty-less for you because I figured that’s what you would want with this spontaneous lesson or profession of something, and that file over there’s giving me more attention than you are. What gives?”
He wiped his mouth off before he set the napkin down over his plate. The dream of him professing his love to me slowly melted from my mind, and in its place was a reality that slowly dawned on me.
I’d never been broken up with before. Was this how it happened?
“We need to talk,” he said.
“Shit,” I said as I stood to my feet.
“Crissy, you really should sit down.”
“If you wanted to go ahead and end things, you could’ve done that in a phone call,” I said.
“What?” he asked.
“You didn’t need all this pomp and circumstance just to end things,” I said. “We both know this thing had a termination date. All you needed to do was text me and let me know the termination date had arrived.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
I grabbed my glass of wine and tipped the rest of it back before I set it on the counter. I turned and headed for the front door, making my way toward my coat. I didn’t need to sit here and look the man I loved in the face as he ended shit with me. I’d been through enough.
Much more than I ever would’ve imagined with him.
“Hold on, Crissy. Would you just stop fucking walking for a second, Miss Marks?!”