Bailout (Out of the ATL Book 1)

by Kimbra Swain

  As I started to work myself into an angry fit, I saw movement in her direction. The man seemed pained, and she reached out to comfort him with a light touch. She didn't linger there, but the touch was genuine.

  As they exited, she turned to look into the bar. She knew I was here all along. I couldn't trust anything I saw. I nodded to her, and she to me.

  I stood having already paid my bill and stalked to the doorway watching her get into the vehicle with the man. Tonight's dinner would answer all of my questions. But I needed to make a few stops including one at Brewster’s Mens Clothing. It was the only place in Atlanta that I knew I could update my designer suit collection. I called Kelly and asked her to meet me there. She would tell me what looked good and what didn’t. I trusted her eye on the matter.

  “Mr. Elliot, it is so good to see you. How may I help you?” Mr. Thomas Corder said. He owned Brewster’s, and it had been over a year since I visited the specialty shop.

  “Time to update my suits, Mr. Corder,” I said.

  I saw dollar signs flash in his eyes. “Excellent. Right this way,” he said, leading Kelly and me to the private dressing room.

  I removed my coat, and without a word, he began to take measurements. Thankfully my build fits most suits without alterations. With this new money, I hoped to make a trip to New York City and have a couple of custom suits made. If Miss Malone was going to make me rich, I needed to look the part. Plus, I was using her money to do it.

  Kelly made suggestions, and Mr. Corder buzzed about the shop bringing in the newest items for me to choose. The bill was over $5,000 by the time I had finished. I pulled out the shiny unused Malone Enterprises credit card and paid for my purchases.

  “Do you think she will get mad?” Kelly asked.

  I smiled. “God, I hope so.”

  “And when she kicks you to the curb for being an ass, don't call me,” she said. “What's the deal with this dinner?”

  “I'm looking forward to spending some alone time with her,” I said simply as we got in my car.

  “You intend to seduce her? To what end?” she asked.

  “I need her at the height of vulnerability,” I said.

  “Jamey, this isn't you. Don't do this. There is too much going on with the Abrego stuff and the company faltering. We need her,” she suggested.

  “You may need her, but I most certainly do not,” I said.

  She shook her head in silence. Tears formed on the edges of her eyes as we pulled into the Bright parking deck. I parked in my CEO spot right next to the door. Gathering herself to speak, she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Jamey, I love you. Ever since Hailey died, you haven't been the same. Life has dealt you blow after blow. But this vindictive person isn't you. I miss my cousin. My best friend.”

  “You would have me roll over and take it,” I said.

  “No, but if you distract her and she gets killed by Abrego because you tried hiding your mistakes, her blood will be on your hands. How will you live with yourself?” she asked.

  I scoffed, “She's not going to die. Don't be ridiculous and overdramatic.”

  “I see. I'm ridiculous,” she sobbed, as she opened the car door. Exiting quickly, she didn't allow me to apologize. I debated following her but decided I'd go back to my office at Malone.

  When I entered my office, I threw my keys on the table and spoke to my visitor. “Hello, Sebastian. How may I help you?”

  He sat back in the chair across from my desk with his right ankle resting on his left knee. He watched me circle the desk and sit down.

  “What is the purpose of the dinner this evening with my sister?” he asked.

  “I want to get to know her and try to understand what she’s doing with Bright. Others may follow her blindly, but I won't.”

  “You can do that here,” he said.

  I should have known big brother would run interference for her. “Look, I mean her no harm. I actually think she's pretty amazing, but I'm not comfortable in this setting. She and I need to talk about my contract here and the resell of Bright to me on my own turf.”

  “Perhaps you forget that the Mexican cartel wants you dead,” he said.

  “I doubt that,” I replied. Did Abrego want me dead? We had a deal. I was still keeping my end of the bargain.

  “I've seen the bounty myself. In fact, I might just collect it,” he said coolly. He meant it. It wasn't an idle threat.

  “Threats are unnecessary. I have no desire to see physical harm come to Miss Malone,” I said.

  He raised up putting both of his huge palms on my desk. He didn't lean forward, but only because his menacing stature didn't require it. “I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in prison, if anything happens to her that even remotely relates to you, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

  I admitted that he made me nervous. Scared the shit out of me. Before I could speak again, he turned and casually walked out. That had to be some sort of workplace harassment. I doubt that complaint would get very far.

  Kelly suggested it. Now Sebastian practically accused me of murder. Were my actions leading her to some sort of physical harm? I said I wanted to destroy her. Isn't this what I wanted?

  The phone on my desk rang startling me. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Elliot, this is Miss Rimmel. Miss Malone sent you a few emails that she would like you to look over before your dinner tonight. I wanted to make sure you were aware of them?” she said.

  “I will take a look at them. Thank you, Miss Rimmel.”

  “You are welcome,” she said sweetly. I got the vibe she wasn't sincere.

  I opened the folder on my desk contains the login instructions for my company email. Once I was in the system, close to fifteen emails showed up. Most were welcome to the company type emails from the other Vice Presidents. There were two from Alexandra.

  “Mr. Elliot, if you are so inclined, I've spoken to the manager at Mercedes-Benz of Atlanta, and he is awaiting your call. Below is a list of the cars he has on the lot right now. Please choose one as a personal vehicle for yourself. I cannot have my employees driving around beat up Jaguars. No offense to Bright and its funds, but you are playing in a higher league. Malone will purchase the car for you, and it will be yours to keep. If you have any questions or prefer another brand, please contact Miss Rimmel who will make any necessary arrangements. Sincerely, Alexandra Malone.”

  My eyes drifted down the list of vehicles. None were base models. In fact, all of them were on the high end of what Mercedes had to offer. My eyes settled on a metallic black MLS. A large, reliable SUV. I quickly made the call. The manager assured me that the vehicle would be delivered to Malone Enterprises by 4 p.m.

  The second email detailed the responsibilities of the Vice President of Purchasing. The tasks seemed pretty mundane. The bulk of my employees were on the fourth floor. She suggested that perhaps tomorrow she could introduce me to them.

  I rubbed my forehead. Working at Bright was easy, I decided what I wanted to do, and delegated the rest. I supposed the hole I got myself into required me to take it on the chin.

  Perhaps that was my whole problem. I'd dealt with my sister's issues and my father's death, but I’d never really addressed my own demons. They were eating me alive. Kelly was right. I was losing myself. Maybe Alexandra would take me downstairs now. I stood up and looked at my reflection in the glass. Time to grow up, Jamey.

  I crossed the hallways from my office to hers. Charity wasn't at her desk, and Alexandra’s door was open. I walked in, but she wasn't there. Damien sat on the leather couch reading a newspaper.

  “Hey, where is she?” I asked.

  “Mr. Elliot, she’s down in accounting doing her annual review,” he said.

  “What floor?” I asked.

  “Four,” he replied returning to his newspaper.

  Taking the elevator down to four, it only took a moment to find her once the doors opened. A large crowd gathered around a desk in the center of the room. A female in her late forties stood
over Miss Malone pointing at the screen.

  My entrance drew the attention of a couple of people in the back who looked unamused and Charity who stood against the wall watching the scene. Charity made eye contact with me but showed no emotion on her face. I approached the group quietly and listened.

  “So, you see Miss Malone once we submit the reports, we then have to go and send them to the proper folders as well as make duplicates for the backup server. If we could do all of this with one click, it would save us a lot of time,” the woman said.

  “I see. Walk me through your process once again, please,” Miss Malone requested.

  “Sure,” the woman obliged. She went through each step explaining the process to her boss.

  After they finished, Miss Malone stood and faced the group. Leaning back on the desk, she addressed them all. Just before she spoke, her eyes flicked to me, and she smiled.

  “From what I see we have some improvements to make in our process. First of all, I would like the department heads to check with legal and see exactly what documents we are required to save for auditing purposes. Secondly, we need to double check that we aren't backing anything up that isn't necessary. Finally, I will have someone in IT review our software and make changes to ease your workload. Is there anything else?” she asked.

  “We need a new coffee pot,” someone in the crowd said. The group laughed.

  “Yes, and a new coffee pot which will be here in the morning if I have to go buy it myself,” she said. “If that is all, I want to take this opportunity to introduce all of you to the new Vice President of Purchasing, Mr. Synclair Elliot. Mr. Elliot, forgive me for putting you on the spot, but I saw you sneak in.”

  “That's quite alright,” I said. I got varying looks from the crowd. Disdain, lust, and envy to name a few.

  “Well, that concludes my annual check-in. As always, my door is open to you. Thank you so much for what you do for Malone. My assistant has set up snacks and coffee in the conference room. Please enjoy,” she finished. They clapped as she started greeting individuals separately. She knew their names and asked personal questions about spouses, grandchildren, and pets. Eventually, when the crowd cleared, she approached me.

  “Sorry to spring that on you,” she said.

  “It's okay. I went to ask you about something, and Damien said you were down here. I thought I'd come take a look,” I replied.

  “I'm glad you did. Charity, please tell me I'm done for the day?”

  “Yep. Your schedule is clear,” she replied. “I'm going to grab some coffee with everyone if you don’t mind.”

  “That's fine. I'm heading back upstairs. Mr. Elliot, will you join me?” Miss Malone asked. I nodded, and we walked to the elevators. “She started out in accounting, so she's got a lot of friends here,” she explained.

  “I see,” I replied as the elevator doors closed on us.

  “What did you need?” she asked.

  “Actually, I got your email and wanted you to introduce me today. It worked out,” I replied.

  “Suddenly eager,” she remarked.

  “I've got a new Mercedes to at least pretend I'm working for,” I joked.

  “Ah! So, you picked out one,” she smiled.

  “I did. They are delivering it this afternoon,” I replied. “Thank you, Alexandra.”

  “For the vehicle?”

  “Yes. I also spent some money at Brewster’s,” I admitted.

  “I hope it wasn't on Calvin Klein’s,” she teased.

  “No, just new suits for work. It was a large bill. I should have used my personal account,” I said.

  What was I saying? I fully intended to stick her with the bill.

  “That isn't necessary. At the end of the month, just include it in your expense report. I will sign off on it,” she said without hesitation.

  What was the game here? I didn't understand. She should be mad. Maybe she was and I couldn’t read her.

  “You coming?” she asked. I hadn't realized the elevator stopped.

  “Oh, crap! Yeah, my bad,” I said stepping out.

  She just giggled at me as she turned to walk away. Her ponytail swayed like an arrow pointing to her ass. I stared for a moment, thinking about what it would be like to sink my hands into it, then realized she’d turned to look at me. A smile spread across her face.

  “Caught you,” she said.

  “Yeah, um, okay,” I stuttered. Practically tripping over myself, I followed her to her office. She entered, and Damien left without a word. I supposed he was waiting for Charity to come back.

  “Have a seat,” she offered.

  I sat down and looked at her. She clicked a few buttons on her computer, waiting for me to speak. “What was that down there?”

  She turned and leaned back in her chair. “Just something I do once a month. I go visit one of the departments. I sit at their desk or chair and do their job. They complain about the little things that bother them. Then the management team and I get together and try to address some of their issues. Like today, they are doing a lot of saving and re-saving to the server and to the hard drives, then copying to the department heads on certain documents. It’s a lot of waste in overwork. If I can get IT to improve the software by adding a one-touch button or perhaps various profiles to do with different types of reports, then it makes their jobs easier. Happy employees are more productive,” she explained.

  “It shows them that you care,” I said.

  “That, too. It’s not a show. I do care,” she said.

  “I could see that,” I replied because I could. She was successful for a reason. I supposed that applied not only to her outward business deals but her inward treatment of her employees.

  “In a couple of weeks, we will have a huge Christmas party. It’s the highlight of the year. I have a few musical acts coming to perform as well as gambling and a full open bar,” she said.

  “Am I invited?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she replied. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

  “Yes, in fact, I need to get going. I’ve got an errand to run before I come to pick you up,” I said. I had no idea what kind of errand I needed to run, but it was a good excuse to get out of her office. I refused to allow myself to see her as a human, much less a savvy businesswoman. There was a knock at the door as I stood.

  “Mr. Elliot, the reception desk called. Your vehicle has been delivered,” Charity said.

  “Thank you, Miss Rimmel,” I nodded to her. “See you later, Miss Malone.” She only smiled as I left.

  Eighteen

  ALEXA

  “He’s acting strangely,” Charity said once Mr. Elliot was out of range.

  “Yes, he is,” I replied.

  “As long as you know it and aren’t wrapped up in his good looks,” she said.

  I lifted my eyebrows at her, “Really?”

  “Well, he definitely looks at you. I think that’s why he’s being so nice. Just be careful,” she said.

  “I will. Besides, Mr. Elliot is the least of my worries,” I replied.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I set up a lunch tomorrow with Mr. Abrego. We will do it at the Chantilly room. I need as much security involved as possible,” I said. She stood there stunned. “Charity?”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “What? It’s a business deal. Just like any other,” I said.

  “You keep looking at it that way, and you will end up dead,” she spouted.

  “Sebastian and Arturo will be with me. It’s no big deal,” I said. “We need to calm hostilities, and if he doesn’t, I’ll wipe the table with him.”

  “I’ll say a good word for you at your funeral,” she said stomping out. I rolled my eyes at her. Overly dramatic. Juan Abrego was a monster, but a businessman. I could relate to both.

  Arturo drove me home. “Miss Malone, do you need me the rest of the evening?” he asked.

  “No, Arturo, go home and see your wife. Kiss those babies for me,” I said.

&n
bsp; “Thank you, ma’am,” he smiled as I climbed out of the car in front of the townhouse. Sebastian waited for me at the door. He’d gone home earlier to get some sleep. He had been up all hours of the night lately working on extra security measures. Just another reason, I needed to talk to Abrego. I can’t have my security constantly consumed with fending off the Mexican cartel.

  “You look rested,” I said.

  “Get in here,” he spouted. Good grief. I was in trouble again.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as he shut the door behind me.

  “Lunch with Abrego! Really?” he said.

  “I’ve already heard the complaints from Charity,” I said turning away from him to go to the kitchen.

  He grabbed my arm and jerked me back. A surge of panic ran through my body, and I froze. He realized what he had done. “Lexy, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said gritting my teeth. Any sort of forceful restraint could set off a panic attack. Usually, it was tied to restraining my arms or wrists.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Why does Synclair matter?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied walking away from him again. I made my way to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. It was warm, and I took a few sips.

  “Just a gut feeling?” he asked.

  “Basically. I was looking over financials of our suppliers that Charity complies monthly and picking our next targets to cut or aid. Bright seemed like a logical choice. Of course, I knew of Mr. Elliot before researching his company, but he personally never crossed my mind until we started doing research,” I said. It was true. However, ever since I first read about his situation and being thrust into his father’s company I felt a connection to him. It was more than just a handsome face although that part didn’t hurt. “I want you to call Maddie. Go get laid. We will be fine tonight.”

  “No, with this Abrego thing,” he said.

  “Ceasefire until lunch tomorrow,” I said.

  He growled. “No.”

  “You are fired,” I said. He smiled. He knew I’d fired him many times in the past few years. I always took him back the next day.