by Liv Morris
As her orgasm subsides, I feel mine starting to build around my balls. At the last second before I explode, I pull out of her and let my come spill over her ass. Pulse after pulse. I leave my mark only for it to wash away from the spray of the shower.
I turn her around, and she gives me a satisfied smile. “Damn, Adam.” Her words are practically breathless.
“Damn right.” I collapse onto the shower bench next to her and she cuddles up with me.
Somehow we need to make it out of the shower and get ready for the day ahead, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate. It’s happy to sit here with Kathryn in our steamy afterglow.
“I wish I didn’t have to go into the office today.” I lean over and kiss her forehead. “I’d rather stay home and play hooky with you, take you for a long walk through Central Park, and buy hotdogs for lunch. It’s supposed to be nice out today.”
“That sounds great, except for the hotdog. I refuse to eat street meat. You never know.”
“You’re pretty uppity, beautiful. Some of my best lunches have come off the street meat carts. There’s one by my building that has its own Zagat rating. Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers and make the Boy Scout sign.
“You know, I’ve always been a sucker for a man in uniform.” She winks.
“If we keep this up, I’ll never make it to my first meeting.”
“Would that be the end of the world?” she asks with a teasing grin.
Reluctantly, we finish our shower, and I dress for the day ahead. Kathryn stands before the vanity mirror, drying her hair... nude.
I want to sneak up behind her and cup her breasts while her hands are held high, styling her hair. If she doesn’t put on the fucking clothes I had my personal shopper from Barneys send over last night, I’m going to end up taking her back to bed instead of meeting my team at the office.
I shake my head and try to remember my priorities, though I’m not sure what they are right now as she offers me a glowing smile in the mirror.
“Damn, you’d tempt the devil to leave his throne in hell, beautiful.” She lays the hairdryer down on the counter and turns around to face me.
“That’s the most unromantic line I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes dance with humor. “Saving your wit for the boardroom, are you?”
I move a step forward and draw her into my arms, wanting one more touch of her bare skin before we part.
“Something like that,” I whisper before inhaling her scent and burning it into my memory. I know it will take more than a little wit to conquer the week ahead of me. But having her in my life right now will make anything Wall Street throws at me bearable.
Chapter 8
Sunday was a blur as I met with my partners and fielded phone calls from top investors. They called with concerns and questions in addition to meetings with department heads who were looking for information to pass along to their employees. I spent yesterday at the office with barely enough time to piss as the pressures on me came from every angle. Not my idea of a restful Sunday, but I had no choice.
The rumors reported yesterday about an investigation became more than whispers when the SEC announced their formal inquiry surrounding the departure of Simon from the company around four yesterday afternoon. We weren’t given an advance warning, either. A statement, only a paragraph long, went out over the news wires, sealing the deal and hopefully not our doom.
Fortunately the SEC’s focus seems to be Simon, personally, and not our company as a whole. The misconceptions brought on by the investigation surrounding Kings will have to be fought long and hard over the next few days.
I spent all Sunday afternoon on the phone with investors in Japan, trying to squelch fears before the markets opened there. I was semi successful and Kings’ stock is down less than ten percent in the world markets so far. Early trading on Wall Street has been brutal, and I fear the stock exchange might halt trading if things don’t calm down.
The stock markets are nothing more than a legalized form of gambling. Investors gather data on a company and bet on the movement of its stock. If they see something unpredictable looming in the future, like an investigation, stockholders tend to fold their cards and sell. So I need to put on my best poker face and regain the Street’s confidence.
Monday morning has come early for me since I didn’t sleep a wink last night. My first public appearance since the gala where I met Kathryn is a scheduled news conference in the Kings Capital lobby at eight thirty, exactly one hour before the markets open.
What I say this morning could make or break the future of my company as well as the livelihoods of thousands of employees. To say I feel a little pressure is a fucking understatement, but I’m up for the fight.
I’m finishing my second cup of coffee when Meg, the smartest communications director in New York City, walks through my office door.
“Morning, Adam.” She’s in her usual chipper mood. I cock my brow. Her upbeat attitude never fades—she’s always the optimist. Although I’m not convinced this day’s outlook is so rosy.
“Morning, Meg.” She pulls up a chair to my desk and places her laptop on the edge. She taps her fingernails on the desk as the laptop boots up. “Would you be more comfortable if we moved to the conference table?”
“No, this is fine.” She begins typing away but continues to speak to me as her eyes are laser-focused on the screen. “You have the main talking points, right? Any thing you’d like to add?”
“No everything looks fine—short and to the point. The fewer words I speak, the less likely I’ll be hung by them.” This comment makes her raise her eyes and quiet her fingers. Her face reflects concern, too. “My worry isn’t what I’m going to say but what questions the news hounds will ask me. I fear the conference will go from questions about Kings to personal questions about Simon and the crazy belief that I was involved with his fiancée.”
“I sent out the press release yesterday, covering all the same details you plan to bring up today. The best way to curb unwanted questions, especially the ones related to Simon, is by feeding them misdirecting answers. A distraction, if you will. Gently leading them astray.”
“Agreed.” I know the game. I have to stay on point. One question handled wrong could be disastrous.
“So, what have you heard from the first round of the financial shows on CNBC this morning? Please summarize.” I wave my hand for her to begin.
Meg stops clacking her nails on her keyboard and folds her hands together on the desktop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, as if to clear her head before she begins. “You want the brutal truth?
I don’t make a move to answer her, but Meg knows better than to wait for my acknowledgment. She continues. “They’ve focused on the affair. I hate to say it, but it’s the sex part of the story that’s making the most news impact.”
“Of course it is,” I say with feigned amusement. I sit back in my chair and rub my temples, hoping to ease the tension.
“I believe your fight is whether you have the Street’s backing as the head of the company. No one has criticized the value of the company and its subsidiaries overseas. Unfortunately, you have become the main topic of interest.”
“That’s what I thought.” I fight off feelings of personal defeat and breathe deeply, hoping to expel my fears. “Are Tom and Patrick here yet?”
My friends, the other founders of Kings, have agreed to stand by me at the conference. A show of solidarity and, fuck, I think I’m going to need it.
“Yes, I spoke with them both before coming to your office. They don’t plan on stepping up to the microphone, though. The show’s all yours.” She stops and looks me dead in the eye without blinking. Her pause seems to emphasize the importance of what she says next. “I know you can do this, Adam.”
“Thanks.” I hope to God she’s right. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
We rise, leaving our laptops but taking our phones with us. While heading to the door, something feels off to me.
&
nbsp; “Hey, would you give me two minutes?” I glance at my watch, knowing we have ten minutes before the scheduled start of the news conference. Meg plans to introduce me, Tom, and Patrick.
“Sure, we have time.” She glances at her own watch and then up at me with an understanding smile. She must see the cracks starting to appear in my armor, but she doesn’t mention a thing.
“Thanks, I’ll be right out.” I open my office door for Meg and shut it behind her.
Grabbing my phone, I call the one person I can’t seem to get off my mind.
“Hey,” Kathryn answers after the second ring. I have nothing of real importance to say to her, but I need to hear her voice before I head downstairs and face the inquisition since the last time I spoke with her was yesterday morning.
“Good morning, beautiful. I hope I’m not calling too early.” I find myself smiling for the first time since Eddie dropped her off at her apartment yesterday on the ride to my office.
“Morning, Adam. It’s fine. I’ve been up for a while. How’d your night go?”
“Long. Boring… and lonely without you.”
“Same here.” I know when we’ve been apart, it feels like something is missing
“I’m sorry about last night. I was really hoping to get away and meet you for a late dinner.” My overseas calls went on through the night as I chased the sun’s dawning on different countries when their markets opened.
“I understand. What time is your news conference? It’s this morning, right?” I mentioned my planned strategy to her last night when we texted between my calls.
“Yes, everything is set up in the lobby. They’re waiting on me to come down. I can take a couple of minutes, though, and make the media sweat it out. It should be live on CNBC if you’d like to watch.” I cringe the second after I say this because I fear what the reporters will ask. But a part of me would like to know she’s watching and perhaps cheering me on.
“Of course I’m going to watch. I just turned on the television.” I picture her sitting on her comfortable couch surround by all those pillows. I’m tempted to ask her what she’s wearing but think better of it. I need to stay focused, but even in a moment of stress, I can’t curb my need for her.
“It could be brutal today…”
“You’re going to do great. Just be your cocky self.” She laughs.
“Speaking of...” I clear my throat, and my mood lifts hearing her laughter over the phone. “My cocky self really wants to see you right now.” She laughs even more. I smile, imagining her face full of mirth, and wish to God I could be with her.
“I’m glad you’re in my life.” The confession slips from my mouth before I have time to think.
Kathryn doesn’t take a second to answer. “I feel the same about you.” She breathes into the phone as if the admission is just as heavy as I think it is.
There’s a pause between us.
“Are you okay?” She breaks in before I can. “You’re talking pretty deep for a Monday morning.”
“You picked up on that.” I figure speaking in jest would mask my neediness for her. “I’m all right and better get going, but knowing you’re out there watching me helps.”
“Good luck, Adam.”
“Thanks, beautiful. I love you... your... ah... support.”
“What was that?” she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Jesus Christ! Did I just almost tell her I love her? All of this stress is getting to me. I haven’t spoken these words to anyone since the day I left my mother’s grave. But they rolled off my tongue without a thought. Maybe it was my heart, not my head, speaking?
“I said support, I love your support.” I wipe a small bead of sweat from my brow. “Gotta run, beautiful. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
With a chuckle Kathryn says, “I’ll talk to you soon, then. And Adam, don’t forget there’s more important things in this world than money and power.” Her words aren’t harsh or preachy. I want to argue that I have thousands of people relying on my performance today and their welfare depends on me, but she ends the call before I can say anything in return.
Deep down, I know she’s right. In the end, all the money I’ve amassed and the power I’ve brokered on Wall Street haven’t made me a very happy man. Now I see my gains and power as a shallow soulless pool filled with wealth and extravagance.
I place my hand on the doorknob of my office door, close my eyes, and try to gain focus before I head out. Once I’m on other side of the door, I see Meg and Goliath are talking with Mrs. Carter, my assistant, by her desk. With my presence known, Mrs. Carter greets me, worry etched all over her face.
“Good luck, Mr. Kingsley.” Her voice is weak, but reassuring, and there’s a worried look in her eyes.
“Thanks.” I tip my head toward her, and with a slight nod, I acknowledge Goliath.
“I want you to stay here during the news conference,” I command so there is no confusion.
I don’t want him guarding me in my own building. I don’t like the message that would convey to the media, and besides, I’ve always thought bodyguards seemed pretentious. And I sure as hell don’t want to be labeled that today.
Goliath squares his jaw, clearly not happy at my directive. “I’m just following the orders Peters set out.”
“And I’m trumping those orders.” My decision stands and I look around for Peters. He was with me all Sunday night and this morning, but I haven’t seen him since he stepped out for a smoke an hour ago.
“Speaking of Peters, where is he?” I glance between Mrs. Carter and Meg in hopes they know. “Have either of you seen him?”
“Did I hear my name?” Peters chimes in right after my questions, his face impassive as usual. “I just came up from downstairs where Mr. Duffy and Mr. Jacobson are waiting for you. The media is all setup. We only allowed seven outlets and chose Reuters for the main newsfeed.”
“Perfect. But no protection.” I nod at Goliath and leave Peters no room to argue when I say, “Let’s do this.”
Meg follows us into the elevator, texting something on her phone and then stowing it in her pocket. “Adam, my assistant just confirmed that everything is in place.”
When the doors to the elevator open to the lobby, Tom and Patrick are waiting for me. Both men are stern as they stand together, looking like pillars of strength. They are the true rocks of Kings Capital. Not me. I was fucking away the success I’d been given, and Simon was too fucked up. Tom and Patrick deserve so much more than what I’m putting them through.
“Thanks for being here for me today.” I hold out my hand to them, trying to convey my gratitude for standing next to me now and over all the years. Yesterday, I sat them and Meg down to confess all the ugly shit about my time with Marta Llewellyn. Even though Tom already knew about Marta, he still hadn’t known the details and I didn’t spare any. Meg was a bit flabbergasted that my actions went so far, and Tom and Patrick looked upon me with a new level of disappointment.
“Adam, like we said yesterday, we need to band together right now. We’re lifelong friends, not just business partners. I think I speak for Patrick in saying we’re here today as your friends.”
“You don’t know what it means to me to hear you say that,” I say. Patrick clamps his hand on my shoulder.
“Now it’s time for the show.” Patrick ushers us forward.
“I suppose it is.” I lead the way down the long hall toward the main lobby.
Although I can’t see the crowd that has gathered, I hear the faint buzz of voices as we near the area set aside for the conference. With each step, I securely slide on my game face. Head up and shoulders back. I am proud of the company’s accomplishments, and I’ll be damned if my stupidity and Simon’s insanity will bring it down.
All the good-luck wishes I’ve received are great, but it’s time go full press.
The crowd of reporters and cameramen turn in my direction as we round the corner. Meg comes from behind us and stands in front of the bank of microp
hones, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. The calm that follows is eerie and not the norm for the bustling lobby.
The wall to my left is lined with employees, many of whom have been with Kings Capital since the start of the company. I stand by Meg as she acknowledges them with a slight wave of her hand, and they spontaneously begin to applaud. All their smiling faces are trained on me.
I smile, touched by their loyalty. I nod in thanks, trying to make eye contact with as many of them as possible.
Their praise emphasizes why I need to knock this interview out of the park. Nothing less than a grand slam will suffice here. These men and women are dedicated employees who have mortgages, rent, and families to feed.
Wires and cables from the podium run across the pristine marble floor and wind through the feet of news crews. I notice seven different mics clipped to the podium. One for each news crew in attendance. I glance outside the building’s front glass window and see a satellite truck parked in front of the building, signifying that my words will be instantaneously heard across the globe in real time.
I scan over the reporters with confidence as Meg begins a brief introduction since there’s no need for fanfare. “Thanks for joining us today. Adam Kingsley, the CEO of Kings Capital, will be speaking to you and answering your questions. He will give a brief statement, followed by a short question and answer period.”
Meg turns to me and steps away from the podium, leaving me the floor. I walk forward with Tom and Patrick trailing close behind. They stand a few feet to my rear, presenting a united front. For some reason that gives me strength.
“Good morning. I’d like to begin this news conference by thanking the dedicated employees of Kings Capital here today.” I extend my hand to the direction of my employees standing against the wall. Peters is among the crowd of employee onlookers, which I find odd since he’s an independent contractor for me, personally, not Kings Capital. He gives me a thumbs-up as our eyes meet. His gesture makes me smile for some strange reason.