Bailout (Out of the ATL Book 1)

by Kimbra Swain

  “Please, Lex,” he whined.

  “Off you go,” I demanded as I headed toward my room. I couldn’t decide what to wear. It was cool out, but for once, I wanted to look cute. Not elegant. Not business-like. Not refined. Just cute. I had a pretty good idea what I wanted to wear. Jumping in the shower, I realized I only had about an hour before he promised to show up. I was damn near giddy about the prospect of going out for once without my brother. I loved him dearly, and I needed his protection. Just Not tonight.

  I was finishing off my look, but I couldn’t decide on the knee-high black boots or the black fringe booties. I put one on each foot and walked out into the living room to ask Sebastian’s opinion. He was good for those kinds of things. He always went with the least sexy of the two, and I always chose the opposite. I wore a black long sleeve dress that was very form fitting, but plain. I put on a long silver necklace with a sparkling druzy pendant.

  “Boots or booties?” I asked.

  Sebastian sat on the couch, and Mr. Elliot sat on the chair next to it. His eyes lit up when he saw me wearing mismatched shoes. “You get your brothers’ opinion on shoes?” he asked looking at Sebastian.

  “She always picks the opposite of what I want,” Sebastian admitted.

  “You are early,” I said.

  “Yeah, and boots,” he smiled.

  I looked at Sebastian. “Booties,” he said.

  “Boots, it is,” I said turning to go back to the bedroom. Hell, he was twenty minutes early. I wanted to touch up my makeup. I hurriedly put on the matching boot, then refreshed my make-up. Once I entered the living room again, he and Sebastian were dying laughing. I had a “what the hell” moment looking at them.

  “I thought you were going out?” I accused Sebastian.

  “I am. Just had to threaten your date,” he said.

  “Date?” I asked.

  “Yes, date,” Mr. Elliot said.

  “Um, that’s not what I thought this was,” I said.

  “Guess you thought wrong,” Sebastian said.

  I was thoroughly confused. Sebastian laughed. He stood and kissed me on the forehead. “Have fun,” he said.

  “Are you serious?” I said.

  “Night,” he said heading out to the garage.

  I turned to look at Mr. Elliot. “What the hell?”

  “You are cute when you aren’t the one in charge,” he said. He wore black jeans with a deep burgundy button shirt and a black leather jacket. He also had on the rectangular rimmed glasses that drove me crazy.

  “You look nice,” I said.

  He walked up, put his arm around my waist and kissed me on the cheek. “So, do you,” he replied releasing the quick hold on me. It was too late to stop the blush that rose up my neck and landed on my cheeks.

  “What the hell is going on? Fucking twilight zone,” I said.

  He laughed. “Let’s stay here,” he said.

  “No, I look cute,” I replied.

  “Yes, you do, but I’ve had everyone that loves you tell me that you will get killed if we go out or if I keep on the way I am, so let’s stay in,” he replied.

  “You are worried about Abrego?” I asked.

  “Yes, aren’t you?”

  “No, we have a cease-fire until he and I sit down at lunch tomorrow and discuss things,” I said.

  “No,” he quickly turned dark again. The light in his eyes faded. “No, you can’t. He’s a monster.”

  “I’m not concerned, but it does allow us to have a nice night and talk about work,” I said.

  “I don’t want to talk about work,” he replied. “If we are going, then we should head out so we don’t miss our reservation.”

  “Okay, let me grab a coat,” I said as I opened the coat closet. I took out my wool pea coat with the flared bottom. He helped me put it on and grabbed my hand.

  “Come on,” he said pulling me to the door.

  “Slow down, big guy. Heels,” I said.

  He slowed his pace, but we left right after I set the alarm to the townhouse. The brand-new Mercedes GLS. It was black metallic and absolutely gorgeous. I was jealous of the car I’d practically bought him.

  “It’s the nicest car I’ve ever owned,” he said.

  “When you said SUV, I thought you meant a GLC. This is a whole other level,” I said as he opened the door for me.

  He jumped in the driver’s side. “Want to drive it?” he asked.

  “Yes!” I said.

  “Too bad,” he teased.

  I rolled my eyes at him. Dear God, please don’t let me have fun with this man. I already expected the worst of him. I didn’t need to actually like him. Maybe I already liked him and just hadn’t admitted it. Please don’t let me admit it.

  He pulled out into traffic and headed toward Bones, a steakhouse with a long history in Atlanta. I’d eaten there on several occasions. The service and food were impeccable.

  “May I call you Alexa tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes, who are you tonight?” I asked.

  “Who?” he laughed. “That’s funny. Jamey is fine.”

  “Okay,” I replied. The playfulness of earlier was gone. It was like he could flip a switch. Perhaps asking his preferred name of the night was exactly the point. Synclair James Elliot didn’t know who he was or wanted to be.

  He remained quiet for the rest of the ride. The longer he remained quiet, the more nervous I got. This felt like a game. I didn’t like games. I didn’t have time for them. He pulled up into the valet line. There were three cars in front of us.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, I think,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Your brother and I came to an understanding. This was after he threatened to kill me at work, but we are fine now.”

  “I don’t understand, Jamey. All of this feels off. Weird,” I said.

  “You don’t hide anything, do you?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Are you sure about us being safe tonight?” he asked right before it was our turn to get out.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I said. He exited the vehicle and came around to offer me his hand. Not his arm. His hand. I took it, but everything inside of me cringed when I did. I was giving him more and more. It had to stop. I couldn’t lose control.

  When we got inside, we checked our coats. I realized how slim fitting the shirt he wore was. It curved around the muscles in his chest and shoulders. “Dear God, make it stop,” I told myself.

  “Just relax, Alexa,” he said. “I won’t bite you. Unless you want me to, then I could oblige you.”

  “What? No, ridiculous,” I responded because he’d caused me to be flustered again.

  “Mr. Elliot, it is so good to see you,” an older man said at the hostess stand.

  “Mr. Lewis, it has been a long time,” Jamey said releasing my hand to shake his.

  “And a lovely lady,” Mr. Lewis said.

  “Richard, this is Alexandra Malone,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” I replied offering my hand to shake as well. Instead, he took my hand and kissed the back of it.

  “The Alexandra Malone?” he asked.

  “The one and only,” Jamey replied.

  “Good grief, boy. You should have told me who you were bringing,” he said. “I’ve got your table all set up. Right this way.”

  Jamey retrieved my hand again as we followed Mr. Lewis past the dining room and behind a brick wall that revealed several alcoves for private tables. Each table had a window looking into the bustling kitchen. Jamey held my chair out for me as I sat down.

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  “Red or white?” Mr. Lewis asked.

  “Red,” Jamey answered.

  “Yes, sir,” Mr. Lewis said bustling away.

  “He’s the owner?” I asked.

  “Yes. He and father were golf buddies,” he said. “The last time I was here it was with Dad.” His eyes darkened a bit.

  “Why did you come back tonight?
” I asked.

  “I wanted to go somewhere that my name mattered,” he said.

  “Jamey,” I looked at him sadly.

  “Nope. No pity for me tonight,” he said forcing a smile.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Don’t mention it. Now, let’s have a nice dinner. I hope red wine was alright. I always have steak when I come here, but if you want a white for seafood, we can order it too,” he said.

  “Red is fine,” I replied looking through the large book that was the wine list. They had wines that were up to $600 a bottle. Of course, it was a little north of the hub of downtown in Buckhead. My townhouse was in Midtown. “What do you suggest?”

  “Beef. The bone-in rib-eye is what I always get,” he said. “But over the years, I’ve had it all. Richard will probably send us the kitchen. He’s very generous. I know he misses my father.”

  A waiter returned in a crisp suit, told us about the wine, and took our orders. We drank wine while we watched the bustling kitchen. “It’s a well-run business,” I said.

  “Do you always think about business?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry. Just natural for me, I guess,” I said.

  “What do you do for fun?” he asked.

  “Um, I don’t really do anything, I guess,” I said.

  “Movies? Concerts? Dancing?” he asked.

  “I like all of those things, except dancing,” I said.

  “I liked dancing with you,” he said. The heat returned to my cheeks. “You are beautiful, Alexa.”

  “What is this, Jamey? I’m really confused right now, and I don’t like to be confused,” I said.

  “You have control issues,” he replied.

  “You have truth issues,” I countered.

  “I do not,” he rebutted. “I just don’t trust anyone.”

  “I know that feeling,” I said. There were only two people I trusted on this earth, and they were blood. Looking at Jamey, I realized he had no one. No parents. No siblings. Just Kelly his cousin, and I didn’t think he fully trusted her. She did go behind his back to contact me.

  “Do you want me to be completely honest with you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I would like that,” I said.

  “Then you have to do the same with me. And we can’t get mad at each other. At least not tonight. After tonight, you can go back to hating me,” he said.

  “I don’t hate you,” I mumbled.

  “I don’t know what this is, Alexa. I’m just as confused as you are. I still can’t fathom why you would put Malone’s name on the line for Bright Technologies, but I do want you to know I’m thankful that you decided to save the company. I just don’t think you can save me if that’s what you are aiming to do.”

  “Do you need saving?” I asked.

  He laughed and rubbed his forehead. “Need or want?”

  “Need,” I said.

  “Yes. Want, no.”

  I stared at him for a moment. He just admitted that he needed help. “Why do you not want help?”

  “Because, Alexa, I’m a man. I need to be able to fix this on my own. I certainly don’t need a woman to come in and do it for me,” he said.

  Thankfully for him, I wasn’t a feminist, because if I were, I’d have walked out on him then. He realized how brutal his statement had been toward me as a woman. I tried to see past it. He expected something of himself that I knew he could do, he just didn’t know how to do it.

  “I won’t fix you,” I said. “You can do that all on your own. This may sound absolutely insane. I learned a lot about business from my father. I have a natural instinct for it. But like today, in accounting, that’s not my father’s philosophies. It’s my mother’s. People never understood why they controlled the company together, but I knew even from a distance, that the dynamic between them was insane. Dad knew how to work a deal. Mom knew how to work people. I try to do both but I fail in comparison to the two of them. You have everything you need to be a good businessman, Jamey. I can see it in you even if you don’t. It’s why your father left you his company. Your relatives handed their shares over to me like they were cursed. They are all going to freak out when I give it all back to you.”

  “When will that be?” he asked.

  “Whenever you want them,” I said. “We can go to the office now if you want. I’ll start the paperwork.”

  “I’d hate to miss dinner,” he smiled. “What if I don’t want them? What if I sold you all of my shares too?” The smile faded as he waited for the answer.

  “I’d say no,” I replied.

  “Why? I’d be out of the business, and out of your hair,” he said.

  “I didn’t buy the shares of Bright to take over the business. I bought them to give them back to you,” I said.

  He took his glasses off and laid them on the table. He rubbed his eyes for a moment. I looked at them sadly. “You like these?” he asked holding them up.

  “Kinda have a thing for guys with glasses,” I admitted.

  “Like Javier Salida?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I replied truthfully. His face grew dark again.

  “I didn’t follow you there. I was already there when you came in,” he explained.

  “I didn’t know you were there until we left,” I replied.

  “You didn’t? I thought you had someone following me all the time,” he said.

  “Being truthful, and you said we can’t get mad, I know where you are based on your credit transactions. Now it’s not like I sit in my office and track you, but I do know where you have been. I didn’t see the Brewster’s charges until after you mentioned them,” I offered as I cringed at his response.

  “Why track me at all?” he asked.

  “It goes back to the trust thing, Jamey. You don’t trust me. I don’t trust you,” I said.

  “What would it take? For you to trust me. Because I know it would take a whole hell of a lot to trust you,” he spouted. The waiter walked up in the middle of his statement and placed salads in front of us. “I’m sorry.” The waiter just nodded and slipped away.

  I took tentative bites of my salad. My stomach was churning. What would it take? How much could I trust Jamey Elliot? Could I ever completely trust him like I did my brothers? Could I ever trust anyone that way? It was hard for me to fathom. After a few minutes of silence, I muttered, “I don’t know.”

  “Then I don’t know, either,” he said.

  We ate quietly. Salad plates were taken away as dinner plates were placed before us. Jamey had the bone-in rib-eye as he stated. I decided on lamb, but he’d promised to let me try his steak. I didn’t mention it. We just ate and didn’t speak. The tension grew thick to the point that I felt closed in. The waiter came by with a fresh bottle of wine because between the two of us, we’d finished the other bottle off. If we weren’t talking, we were drinking.

  “Excuse me. Which way to the restroom?” I asked.

  “Right through that door, and to your right, ma’am,” he said motioning toward the doorway past Jamey. He walked away.

  “I’ll be right back,” I muttered. As I passed him, he touched my fingers lightly with his. It was like a sorry without speaking. I flexed my hand at the touch, rushing past him to the bathroom. When I walked in the room, it was quiet and empty. I locked myself in a stall and took deep breaths. I couldn’t have an attack here.

  Nineteen

  JAMEY

  I worried. I hated that I worried, but I did. Would she run? I saw the signs of a panic attack flashing in her eyes. Part of me wanted to chase her to the bathroom, just to make sure she was okay. The other part of me hated me for wanting to do it. How long had she been gone? Just as I started to stand, she came back to the table. The fire in her eyes from earlier had died out. Searching her face for the signs of an attack, I saw none. She was good at holding them back. The day at Kellan’s must have been a rare slip-up.

  “I’m okay,” she muttered.

  “Alexa, I am an asshole. I know I am. Just don’t know how t
o be anything else,” I said.

  “No, you aren’t an asshole. You only pretend to be one,” she said.

  “It’s pretty genuine,” I assured her.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” I said picking up my glass of wine and finishing it off. I couldn’t have any more or I wouldn’t be able to drive.

  “Are you Jamey, your cousin’s best friend? Are you James, son of your father? Mr. Elliot, my Vice President and CEO of Bright Technologies? Are you Synclair, the club hopper? Syn, the seducer?” she asked.

  I cringed at the last one. “We need to leave,” I said.

  “Okay,” she replied.

  The waiter returned with a dessert menu, but we both turned it down. He placed the check on the table. She placed her hand on it, but I gently pulled it away from her. I took out a credit card that belonged to my father. An account that no one knew about and paid for our dinner with my own money. She watched me intently. She knew the card wasn’t one of the ones she had paid off. I couldn’t take her to this kind of dinner without paying for it myself. After signing the check, I rose and offered her my hand. She closed her eyes, and I thought for a moment, she wouldn’t take it. But I felt her warm hand slip into mine. Still offering herself to me. Keeping herself vulnerable. At that moment, I decided.

  I threaded my fingers with hers as we approached the coat claim. I helped her into her coat, taking her hand once again as the valet pulled up with the car. The tension wasn’t gone. It was still very apparent, but she still held on. She still believed in me.

  The drive back to her townhouse was just as quiet as dinner. I parked a few spaces down from her place.

  “You don’t have to get out. I can let myself in,” she said.

  “No,” I said getting out of the car. She didn’t wait for me to open the door for her. Now that she saw home, she was ready to run. “Hey, hold up.”

  She stopped and waited for me to walk beside her. She fumbled with the keys as we got to the doorway. Her hands shook. Remembering the moment behind the bar at Kellan’s, I put my hand on her cheek. She let out a small whimper. “Alexa, calm down,” I said.

  “I’m fine. It’s just time to go to bed,” she mumbled.