Boss Me Baby (Billionaire Boss Romance Book 3)

by R. R. Banks

  “Most fathers do,” replied Dillon sarcastically. “I know mine had some kind of radar to know when I was on the verge of doing something stupid.” At that moment, in shear irony, Dillon’s phone rang. “Speak of the devil,” he said with a coy grin as Marisol looked on at him with scorn. “Hey dad, how’s it going?” he said as he answered the phone with Marisol also answering hers. The night was young, but with business in the background and interferences coming from every direction, Dillon and Marisol were destined to have an awkward evening.

  Chapter 2

  Jacoby Burgess stood in front of a large pane of glass in his office looking out at the calm Pacific Ocean. With his hands gripping the railing in front of the glass, he stared out into the emptiness that was the ocean as it crashed into the shore. His office was in a tall sky scraper in the center of the Sydney that possessed one of the most incredible views money could buy. To his left, he could see the white fins of the famous Sydney Opera House.

  “I’ve been all over the world and have seen many incredible places, but I promise you, nothing beats this view,” he said confidently as he tightened his grip on the railing while his gaze remained affixed on the ocean. “I don’t think I could ever give this up.”

  “And why is that?” asked a warm female voice from the other end of the room.

  He smirked as he continued to stare out into the vast emptiness. “Because no matter how bad my day is or how difficult this job becomes, I am always reminded of how insignificant I really am anyway and that all I can do, is all I can do. Nothing can change fate.”

  She nodded. “I understand, but you’ve never been that way,” she said calmly, adjusting her legs and making her purple dress shimmer in the moonlight that penetrated the windows and lit up the floor. “You used to be more positive and gung-ho about life. I remember a conversation we had a long time ago regarding your stance on waiting for the deal to come to you. What happened to that man?”

  He stared out the window as his mind wandered a bit. “He died with his wife,” replied Jacoby in a soft, cold tone. He was a very average man and didn’t stand out much in terms of his physical appearance. But he kept himself in reasonable shape and took care of his appearance. His black and grey hair complemented his very pale complexion. Being stuck in an office all day left him with a severe lack of exposure to the sun, he hardly ever got a decent tan.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she announced.

  “Sulagna, its fine,” replied Jacoby. “It’s been two and a half years since my wife died and I still mourn her.” Jacoby paused briefly as he looked over at Sulagna Patel sitting in a chair at the other end of the room. “I guess I will never give this view up because I have such a connection with this place. Annette and I used to spend hours up here getting work done. She was my partner, my best friend. We would always work late into the night making sure everything was perfect but also making sure our children were taken care of.” He paused and turned back to face the water. “I just have such fond memories of that place,” he said, referring to the Opera House in the distance. “One of my favorite memories took place there.”

  It was such a wonderful day and she looked as beautiful as I had ever seen her, even better than on our wedding day. Her hair was perfect, falling down to the center of her shoulder blades and curled throughout with a beautiful platinum clip in the center. It was perfect, because earlier that day, she had her hair done and put light streaks in, so the clip magnified them exquisitely. She wore a beautiful black dress than hung down to her ankles with heels that brought her up a few inches, to put her even with my eyes. I always joked with her about how short she was, even though I’m not very tall anyway. With every step she took in those heels though, she glided through the air and looked regal in her stance. She carried an aura about her that constantly reminded me of how lucky I was to have married a woman like her.

  We walked into the Opera House and saw one of our favorite operas, La Bohème. Ironically, that was the first opera that we had ever seen at the Sydney Opera House, which made the day a little bit more bittersweet. We walked up the red carpet and into the majestic venue, getting my tickets at will call and immediately heading to our private booth. It was a difficult journey to our booth, with Annette unable to walk for long periods of time. Ever since she gave up on the chemotherapy, her strength had abruptly left her. We both knew that our time together was quickly drawing to a close, but I refused to let the Grim Reaper hover over our anniversary. That night three years ago was about our love and our longevity as a married couple, not about how it was soon to come to an end.

  The opera was beautifully done, bringing out all the emotions that we wanted and taking our minds off of the world around us for three hours. From the moment the curtain rose until the actors and actresses took their final bow, my wife didn’t have cancer and I wasn’t going to lose her. During those moments, we were able to escape this cruel world and enjoy ourselves immensely. As much as it pains me to say it, if she could’ve passed away right them, at the close of the show, it would’ve been perfect. She was surrounded by emotions that weren’t fear or worrying, but immersed in the show that we always talked out wanting to see again since our first trip to the Opera. She experienced a wonderful yearning for the performance and I could see the enjoyment and happiness on her face as the story progressed. It was perfect, but unfortunately, the worse had yet to come.

  Our children hadn’t come to terms with what was going on. They knew their mother was stricken with leukemia, but Annette and I both felt that telling them that she had stopped the treatment would bring about an undue hardship on them. We chose not to tell them that their mother had given up the fight and that she was allowing herself to be taken into the next life. That night three years ago was a celebration of what we had achieved as a couple, not about mourning the fact that I was about to go on without her. I didn’t want to think about it, nor did she. Annette spent countless nights wondering how I would manage without her, of which I always told her that I couldn’t. I knew that’s not what she wanted to hear, but since her death, I’ve been a shell of what I used to be.

  “It’s not fair that we have to speak like this,” said Sulagna solemnly as she wiped a tear from her right eye with her sleeve. “Jacoby, I’m not going to lie to you or try to sugarcoat any of this. When your wife died, I grieved for you and your family. I stayed back and watched as the company you and Nathanial Jenkins owned collectively fell further and further into the doldrums of business. I refused to get involved because I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. I wanted to give you time to grieve, to pull yourself together and to save your company on your own, because I knew that you were the only one capable of doing it.”

  She leaned forward, grabbing a glass of brandy and sipped on it slowly before setting it back down. “You and I both know that Nathanial Jenkins, while a compassionate and smart man, is not cut out for this business,” she continued, keeping herself leaned forward while she looked at Jacoby. “He’s intelligent and a great leader of men, but this business is ruthless and incredibly dynamic. There isn’t much time to analyze data and make decisions. This is why we put our stake in you, even though he was around.”

  Sulagna paused briefly as she leaned back in the chair and looked up at Jacoby still standing by the window. “After a few months, I was starting to get frustrated with you because you were mourning your wife just as much as if she passed the previous day. It was as if time stood still and, while your company was dying, you were stuck in neutral and refused to get on with your life. I stayed back though, out of respect for you. I spoke, repeatedly, with Nathanial though, trying to get him to step in and finally be a leader. I tried to tell him what to do so that the company wouldn’t go bankrupt. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to grasp what needed to be done and the company went into an awful tailspin, to which, only recently has it finally come out of it.”

  “Jacoby, I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I understand now,” she continued,
changing the tone of her voice by softening it. “When my husband passed away a few months ago, the first thought that went through my mind was that I finally understood what you went through and what it felt like to lose the person who kept your life together. It’s been devastating and I don’t see how anyone can move on quickly to keep their life from falling apart.”

  “It’s been the absolute hardest thing I have ever done and I wish it upon no one, Sulagna,” replied Jacoby as he continued to look out the window of his office at the night sky and the moon reflecting off the ocean. “Losing Annette was tragic, but watching my children have to deal with the loss of their mother was even worse. To this day, I am still haunted by their faces when they came in to see their mother lying lifeless in her bed.”

  Sulagna nodded subtly. “Do you think they expected it?”

  “I think George did,” he replied. “At the time, he was fourteen and was abreast in the world enough to understand what was going on. My daughter, Maggie, was only eight and I don’t think, to this day, she knew what was going on.”

  “How are they now?” asked Sulagna. “Mina is a grown woman now, though still young and somewhat naïve, she is an adult. Your children though…”

  Jacoby shook his head. “They both took it rough with Maggie holding on to her brother throughout the entire funeral. She didn’t speak to me for weeks, only relaying messages through her brother. George, unfortunately, was forced to grow up a lot in those days. I feel that he lost a great deal of his childhood when his mother passed away. Instead of focusing on the next rugby or cricket game, he was now trying to step in and take care of his sister instead of letting me take care of the two of them.” Jacoby looked down as he gripped the railing in front of the window. “I asked them if they wanted to leave Sydney and escape some of the pain for the school year. I offered to send them to a boarding school in England where they could forge their own path and escape this pain. I wanted it for them so that they would have an opportunity to have a childhood and grow up. Though reluctant, both of my children wanted to escape. I talk to them twice a week and I see them during the summers and around Christmas. I think this is the best thing for them.”

  “I don’t think Mina would have wanted that,” mentioned Sulagna. “When her father passed away, she was quiet, but strong. She’s always been incredibly resilient and bounced back from the loss fairly quickly. I knew it would distract her and that she was hurting, but she kept her chin up, kept moving on. Mina is blossoming and becoming the woman that I have always dreamt she would become. She’s stronger than I ever was, and at her age, she’s already beginning to accomplish a great deal.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” said Jacoby as he turned his head to look up at Sulagna. “I see she was given a very promising position inside the New Zealand Company that was just given admission to the consortium. I wonder though, was that because she earned it or because it was part of the deal to let Acostis’s company in?”

  Sulagna grinned slyly. “A little of both,” she admitted. “She proved to both Dillon Flannigan and Robert Acostis that she was astute and gifted in the business world prior to our meeting in Zurich. However, with her along, I was more apt to give that company my blessing.”

  “Nepotism still exists in this world,” quipped Jacoby.

  “And it always will,” quickly replied Sulagna. “When your son is ready to take the reins of his own company, you cannot possibly tell me that you will not try and use your existing influence to get him a better position in the business world.”

  Jacoby chuckled as he released the railing and walked over to the couch beside Sulagna. “I suppose you’re right,” he answered with a smile as he lowered himself onto the couch and leaned back. “I just, well, I want to make sure that this company will not have anything from Acostis’s company affecting us.”

  “I give you my word, there will be no intermingling of interests,” she confirmed as she sipped her brandy again. “I want you to think of their admittance as a stabilizing factor in this region, something that has been lacking for a few years.”

  “Will you be honest with me about something,” he asked as he reached toward the end table, grabbing his small glass of bourbon. “I don’t care if you’re trying to protect my feelings or what not, but I have to know something. In the past few weeks, the consortium has done two things in this region that have had an effect on our business. Now, while one of them has been completely positive and, while I was incredibly skeptical at first, has proven to be a masterstroke by you all. I’m still holding my reservations about the more recent move COT has made with the other company in this region, but we’ll see what effect it has. Basically, were these two moves made because of our failures over the past few years, more specifically, because I couldn’t seem to grasp my life?”

  Sulagna exhaled slowly as she looked ahead, not turning her head to face Jacoby because she knew the answer might potentially upset him. “Jacoby, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to answer this,” she said reluctantly. “I mean, this region has been in shambles and something had to be done. We placed Alexis Matthews and Hannah Burchfield in your company to stabilize it, but we knew something else had to be done in that region. Can it all be traced back to Annette’s passing? Unfortunately, yes, but that is not the direct reason we did this.”

  Jacoby held his hand up and shook his head. “I understand,” he said. “The company was failing because I could not direct it as I should have. We had the man that Nathanial and I chose to lead it swindle us, while Nathanial wasn’t capable of repairing the damage.”

  “I cannot blame anything on the loss of your wife, though,” continued Sulagna. “Had you been around, these moves may have still happened. I don’t know.”

  “It’s fine. I understand but I just wanted to know if her death was one of the reasons that these moves were made,” he stated calmly. “I get that there has been a long passage of time and I understand that something had to be done to stabilize the region. I was just curious, that’s all.”

  Sulagna turned her head and looked at Jacoby. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “But you’re right. We did have to stabilize the region. It was a business decision.”

  “And one that I would hope you would make no matter the situation,” he said confidently. “The consortium exists for all of the companies that reside in it to prosper and flourish; that will always be the case. Just because my life has been in shambles doesn’t mean that my company’s failures don’t affect everyone. I understand why this decision was made but wanted to know if it was my fault that it came to this.”

  “Then if you don’t mind me asking, Jacoby, if you could go back and change something, what would it be? What do you think could’ve and should’ve been done differently?” asked Sulagna.

  “There are several things, but if we really get down to it, I don’t think I would have ever allowed such a large share in the company to be sold to Nathanial Jenkins,” he replied. “Yes, we should’ve removed some of the leadership at various points, but I think if the majority owner were stronger, then the consortium would not have had to step in.” Jacoby paused as he looked at Sulagna directly in her eyes. “I think if Nathanial Jenkins would have never gotten involved in the Australian Oil Trade and Refiners, we would have never been in this situation.”

  Sulagna smirked. “Interesting that you would say that,” she said. “What if I told you that someone is considering making a move at his shares of the company?”

  Jacoby smiled as he sat up on the couch, surprised by Sulagna’s remarks. “That’s something that I would know about before you would. I’m afraid whatever information you have is wrong. All shareholders must disclose any potential sales to anyone outside the company to the board within 48 hours of an offer. I would know if someone was making a play at his shares.”

  Sulagna laughed heartily. “Do you think you would?” she asked rhetorically. “What if I told you it wasn’t someone outside of your company? There would be no disclosures then, would
there?”

  Jacoby paused as he leaned back in his chair and thought to about the possibilities. “There is no way…”

  She leaned forward and reached for her glass of brandy. “Are you sure there isn’t? she asked playfully. “Do you think you know what every shareholder is thinking?”

  “There is only one person who would be bold enough to attempt to buy Nathanial out and he has a conflict of interest now with the other company in this region,” reasoned Jacoby. “Dillon Flannigan cannot be a principle owner of one company and the President of another. It’s unethical.”

  Sulagna smiled. “There is no competition inside the consortium though,” she answered. “Besides, what if the two companies were to come together and control the entire Pacific Ocean?”

  “There is no way that could possibly happen.”

  She laughed as she turned up her drink, finishing it before setting the glass back on the table in front of her chair. “There are a lot of moving parts regarding this, Jacoby, but what I can tell you is that this is something that will probably happen and will be the greatest thing that will ever come of this company.”

  “How?”

  Sulagna continued to smile. “Because you’ll be one of the larger shareholders in a company that controls a quarter of the world’s oil distribution.”

  He sat back in his chair and looked at Sulagna with a very deep, almost blank expression. His mind wandered about how that could happen and what it would mean for him in the long term, but he struggled to wrap his mind around it. “What do you mean?” he asked innocently. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

  “What if I told you Nathanial Jenkins was going to sell his shares in the company to Dillon Flannigan and then through a non-compete agreement with the company out of New Zealand, all of the South Pacific region would become property of Australia. Jacoby, you would become an even more wealthy man.”