The Christmas Gamble

by Sienna Ciles

  I looked behind me and saw Sara Wood standing there. She was dressed, as usual, in tight, form-fitting clothes that quite shamelessly showed off her physical assets, and she was gazing at me with a flirtatious glint in her large, beautiful eyes, which were heavy with makeup.

  “Oh uh, hi Sara,” I said to her, trying unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “So, Villiers isn't going to invest in your company, is he?”

  There wasn't much point in lying; she had heard pretty much everything. “No, he isn't.”

  “All because of your loyalty to your best friend.”

  I nodded. “I'm not going to throw Pete under the bus. No. No way. It's not going to happen.”

  She nodded and smiled at me, her full, glossy lips glinting in the light. “That's admirable,” she said. “Stupid, and shortsighted . . . but admirable.”

  “Well I don't care how you see it, or how anyone else sees it,” I responded hotly. “Pete has been my best friend since we were twelve years old, and he helped build this company. It's as much his as it is mine, and I'm not going to kick him out.”

  “You're so kind . . . and probably way too generous. Everyone can see who the real genius of the operation is, Jax. Everyone can see who the real leader is. And it's not Pete.”

  I shook my head. “It doesn't matter what you think,” I muttered.

  “Perhaps it does matter, Jax. Because remember, I've got the money you need for that final boost of investment before you go public. So, Villiers doesn't want to invest—you know what? Screw him. Go with my offer. You're going to have to, actually. You've seen the media; the stories about Pete's irresponsibility and his accident are all over the place. And you've seen what the media has done with these stories. They're crucifying him—and dragging your company's name through the mud. Now tell me, Jax, who is going to want to sink a pile of cash into your company now, with the future looking so uncertain? Who?”

  I shook my head and looked away. I hated what she was saying, but the thing was, she was right. She was absolutely right.

  “And you . . . you're still willing to invest in the company, even knowing that I'm keeping Pete on board?” I asked, somewhat warily.

  She smiled. “I am. Because of you, Jax. I know genius when I see it, and I know that you're going to be able to ride this wave out, as rough as it is. And I also know that even with this media storm going on, you're going to be able to take this company to new heights, to places you would never have dreamed of.”

  I had to admit, her words were tempting. And she was right; investor confidence in our company was at a low. I didn't know who was going to sink a considerable sum of cash into the company after this—nobody would . . . except Sara Wood, apparently.

  “So, you'd really do this? You'd really invest?” She nodded, and I could see that there was a “but” coming.

  “I will. But there's a condition.”

  A-ha. I knew it. “All right, and what's this condition?”

  She grinned and stared at me with a flirtatious gaze.

  “You go out with me, you take me out on a real date. Take me out on a date, show me a good time—and you'll get the investment you need. That's my condition, and it's not going to change. So, there's the offer for you, on the table. Are you going to take it, or are you going to leave it?”

  CHAPTER 17

  Lanie

  I showed up for the meeting with Chad dressed in a conservative business suit that didn't show off much of anything. I had learned from past experience just how creepy he could be, and I certainly didn't want to give him any ideas.

  We were meeting at an upmarket sushi place, and I figured that at least that would be a decent consolation prize for having to put up with Chad for however long this meeting would last. I had always loved sushi, so any excuse to have some was welcome.

  I arrived just on time, carrying a folder with summarized notes I'd made about Bill's goals when it came to the deal. I was feeling a little nervous, as representing someone as prominent and well respected as Bill was in the investor community was a hefty responsibility. Everyone had to have a baptism of fire sometime though, and I figured that this would be mine. And besides, I figured that I didn't really have to be that nervous about the whole thing. I mean, Chad wasn't that much older than me, and surely couldn't have that much experience in the field. I think that I would have been a lot more intimidated by someone with a few more decades of experience under their belt than Chad.

  That was not to say that I wasn't a little nervous though. Chad could be devious, and was no doubt a sly negotiator. What he wanted to get out of the deal and what Bill wanted were two different things, so at least one party was probably going to come out of this feeling like they'd been ripped off.

  I was determined to make sure that it wasn't me. I really, really didn't want to let Bill down. He had put a lot of trust in me with this, and I wanted to prove to him that he had made the right decision by doing that.

  I walked into the sushi place and saw Chad easily enough. He was looking especially slick and groomed, dressed in a charcoal gray business suit with a black shirt. He nodded and smiled when he saw me, and I felt a little shudder of unease run through me from the way he was staring at me. I did my best to hide it, though. Confidence, confidence, confidence—that was the impression I wanted to give off.

  I strode briskly and purposefully over to the table. He stood up, and it looked like he was moving in for a hug, but there was no way I wanted a hug from this creep, no matter how good looking he was, so I preempted this with a quick hand stuck out for a handshake. He saw my extended hand and reluctantly shook it, a look of clear disappointment crossing his face as he did.

  “Good afternoon, Chad,” I said to him, keeping my tone formal.

  “Well hey there, Lanie,” he replied, grinning. “You're looking fantastic . . . just fantastic.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I sat down, avoiding the eye contact he seemed so hungry to make with me. “You do, too.”

  “So, the old man sent you to negotiate with me, huh?” he said. “He must really trust you.”

  “I've worked hard over the past few weeks,” I said, “and evidently, I've made enough of an impression that he does trust me.”

  “Hopefully that trust hasn't been misplaced, huh?” remarked Chad with a smirk.

  “Oh, it hasn't,” I countered, keeping my cool and not falling for his bait. I knew that he would try to rattle my cage a little, to try to intimidate me and thus push for a deal that would be advantageous to him rather than Bill. I wasn't going to let that happen, though.

  “How about some drinks to get things going?” suggested Chad. “Tequila?”

  I stared at him with a skeptically raised eyebrow and a cool expression on my face.

  “This is a business meeting, Chad, not some frat boy drinking night. I'll have a glass of wine—just one—and that's it.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and a grin. “But I find that negotiations go so much better with a little bit of, how should I say, lubricant.”

  The way he said that made it clear that a business negotiation wasn't the only sort of interaction he had on his mind, and a shiver of disgust rippled through me. Still, I kept my cool.

  “Yes, well maybe that's the way you do things, Chad, but it isn't how I do them.”

  He chuckled and shook his head condescendingly. “And who's been doing this longer, huh? You or me, sugar?”

  I didn't really have a comeback for this. All I could do was shake my head. “Listen Chad, could we please just get on with this?” I asked. “Seriously.”

  “Come on, don't you want to get to know the man you're negotiating with?”

  “No, not really.”

  He smiled, and this time the condescension was unmistakable. “And there's your first mistake. If you don't know your opponent's strengths and weaknesses, how do you know what strategy to employ when negotiating with them? How do you know what strategies they're l
ikely to use against you? I'm starting to think that the old man was a real fool to have placed such immense trust in someone like you.”

  Sudden embarrassment flooded through me. He was right. How could I expect to negotiate effectively with someone when I didn't know the first thing about them?

  “Maybe,” continued Chad, “old Bill Wallace didn't actually send you here to negotiate with me. Maybe he sent you here to learn from me.”

  Ugh. He was really starting to get under my skin.

  “All right,” I said with a very put-on smile. “Let's talk then. Let's leave negotiations aside for a while and just . . . talk.”

  He nodded, still smiling arrogantly. “Now there's a smart girl. So, how are things going with your boyfriend Jax—or should I say Ernest J. Cooper IV?”

  That sent a sting jabbing straight under my skin, injecting pain and venom into my veins. I began to stammer, “Things are . . . they're . . . we're not dating.”

  He chuckled before asking, “Were you ever dating, or was that just something you said to get me off your back?”

  He was really starting to get to me, but I knew that I had to keep my cool, and not let him know that he was getting to me in such a big way. “No, we weren't ever dating,” I admitted. “And yes, I just said that to get you off my back. Because there's no way, no way in hell, that I'd ever date you, Chad Burton.”

  He put on a look of mock shock. “Oh, my! You are feisty, aren't you? But, you see, while your lips are saying no, the rest of your body is giving me a resounding 'yes.' I can see the signs, Lanie. You like me. And you don't want to be attracted to me, but you just can't help yourself. And come on, don't be too hard on yourself. Your body knows a powerful alpha male when it sees one, and those instincts just start kicking in. You start getting all hot under the collar, all sweaty, all wet deep down—”

  “Stop,” I said coldly. “Stop it. Just stop. Now.”

  “You just don't like hearing the truth, do you Lanie? I'll tell you a little secret though—it's far easier to just allow these feelings and desires to come out into the open, to just go with them and—”

  “You're delusional if you think I want to have anything to do with you, Chad,” I snapped. “You're crazy. Seriously now, stop being such a jerk. No matter how hard you try to convince me—and yourself—that I'm attracted to you, it's never going to be the truth. Never. So, let's just move on, shall we?”

  He chuckled. “If you say so . . . but I say you're just lying to yourself. You're the delusional one.”

  “Whatever, Chad. Now let's get off this topic, all right?”

  “Fine.”

  The waiter came over and we ordered some drinks—a glass of wine for myself, while Chad, of course, had to go all out to try and impress me by ordering a twenty-one-year-old single malt whiskey.

  “Hey,” he remarked, “if I can afford it, why not enjoy it?”

  We chatted for a while, and remarkably, Chad didn't try to hit on me anymore. I could see from the way that he looked at me that he was still after me, but I made it clear that nothing was going to happen between us, and that despite what he believed, I was not attracted to him at all. We ordered our food, and it was fantastic—as I had thought earlier, a worthy reward for having to spend time with this guy.

  Eventually, we got on to talking about the deal. I knew exactly what it was that Bill wanted to get out of this, and I wasn't willing to back down on any of the demands he had set. Chad was a skilled negotiator, but I was determined to get what Bill had asked for, so in the end he ended up conceding to Bill's demands and agreeing on the deal.

  “I gotta hand it to you, Lanie,” he said as we got up to pay the bill, “you're far tougher than I thought you were.”

  There was a grudging respect in his tone; he wasn't just saying this. I felt a glimmer of pride shining inside me; I had managed to broker a pretty good deal for Bill. Not everything was perfectly ideal, but the conditions had surpassed the minimum targets he had set out in his report.

  “All right, Chad,” I said. “It was good doing business.”

  He nodded. The arrogant smirk had long since vanished from his face, and in its place was a look of respect. “I came away with less of a deal than I thought I would,” he admitted, “and that's probably because I underestimated your abilities. I'll be a lot tougher with you next time we have to negotiate.”

  “And I'll be an even tougher opponent by then, Chad, so you'd better come prepared.”

  “Listen,” he said, “I know that you think I'm a certain kind of guy, and you said you'd never, ever date me—but I'm asking you out. Come on, we could be so good together. We could take on the world, you and me. You've got my number. Call me any time—any time at all.”

  “It's not going to happen, Chad,” I said. “So, don't get your hopes up.”

  “We'll see,” he said, smiling suddenly. “We'll see about that.”

  “Goodbye, Chad,” I said as I walked out.

  I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, but I didn't turn around. I just walked straight to the car and drove off.

  As I was driving, I realized that I was near Plant Power, where Jax and I had first met. That thought was bittersweet now. I was still thinking about him all the time, but I just couldn't get past the fact that he hadn't told me who he really was. I felt guilty for not contacting him all day, but his lack of transparency and honesty had really gotten to me in a big way. What was going to happen between us now? I mean, the date we'd gone on had been pure magic, with such intense chemistry between us. And the kiss we had shared—it had been just pure, fiery passion.

  I decided on a quick drive past Plant Power, since I happened to be in the area. I don't know why—I just wanted to.

  I pulled into the street and drove slowly up to Plant Power. There was, as usual, a line coming out of the door, and it looked pretty full inside, too. I stared through the glass into the area where people were seated at the tables—and almost crashed my car.

  There, sitting at a table, was Jax—and standing next to him, brushing her fingertips along his forearm, was that slutty Sara Wood. They were both laughing about something, and looked as if they were just having a wonderful old time.

  So, that was that. Now I knew the truth—the awful, ugly truth about who Jax really was. I sped off, tears burning the edges of my eyes and a sob choking my throat. It had all been lies, all of it, and I had been such a fool to fall for those lies.

  It was over. I wouldn't see him again. There was no way I ever wanted to see him again.

  I pulled the car over and dried my eyes off and blew my nose, and then got my phone out. I took out Chad's business card and dialed his number.

  “Hi, this is Chad Burton,” he said as he answered. “Who's this?”

  “Hi Chad, it's me, Lanie. So, about going out with you . . .”

  CHAPTER 18

  Jax

  I stared at Sara for a few moments, and she ran her fingertips over my forearm suggestively.

  “You're a great temptress, you know that?” I said to her, staring into her beautiful eyes.

  She laughed, almost proudly. “You should feel privileged, Jax. I could have any man I want, any man in this town—but I chose you. You're the one I want.”

  I laughed derisively. “And I should be feeling proud of myself, huh? I should be feeling so stoked that you're after me?”

  She laughed—but now her laughter was getting colder as she saw where this is going. “What's the matter with you?” she suddenly snapped. “I'm throwing myself at you. Do you know how many men would kill to spend the night with me? How many millions of men across this country have fantasized about me? How many of them would give everything they have to take what I'm offering you?”

  “Maybe go chase after one of them then,” I said coldly.

  “You're not a man,” she hissed, her eyes now cold like those of a reptile. “You're not a real man. You're pathetic.”

  “I am a real man—and that's why I want nothing
to do with you. My heart belongs to someone else, and I would never do anything to hurt her. So, you can take your deception, your temptation, and you can go sell your body to someone else. I have honor, Sara—a concept that someone like you could never understand. And it means so much more to me than anything . . . So much more. So, with all due respect, you can take your offer . . . and you can shove it. I'll come up with the funds myself. I don't need your help, or anyone else's.”

  “You idiot,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You stupid, ignorant, pathetic idiot. I can't believe I wasted my time on you. Well that's it. The offer is off the table—and that goes for all the offers I've made you. Have a good look at this body, you pathetic loser. You could have had this. You could have had one of the greatest bodies ever to grace this country. And you threw it away. Remember that. Remember that!”

  She stormed off, and I shook my head. She was a real bitch, that one, and I was glad that I had chosen not to have anything to do with her.

  However, now I was faced with a real problem—the funding we needed for the final boost before going public. Because of what Pete had done, investor confidence had plummeted. Now nobody wanted to put the capital into my company—not unless I got rid of Pete. And that was something that I simply wasn't going to do.

  Well then, I guess there was only one way to do this. I would have to provide the capital myself.

  I could sell my house, and maybe two or three of my sports cars. I could give them away at well below market value, the house, too. If I could get rid of all of that in a week or two, I would have the money we needed.

  All right, so that was it, that was the plan. It wasn't the greatest plan by any means, but it was what I had to do. And when things get rough, you simply had to buckle down and ride out the storm. So that was exactly what I was going to do.

  I got up, having finished my smoothie, and headed outside. I got on my bike and started the long ride home, thinking while I was riding about how much capital I could realistically expect to come up with in this little flash sale I was about to have.