Quinn is one of the last few to get on the plane. Jennifer has already claimed the seat next to me, and while she’s cute, she isn’t in the same league as Quinn, and I’m a little disappointed when she can’t sit next to me on the flight home.
I watch her board the plane and take a seat in the back where she sits with some of the girls from her department and one of her clients. He’s a little too friendly if you ask me, and I don’t like that one bit. When he puts his hand on her leg, I want to jump back to their seats and rip it off her. I have no idea where this protective streak in me is coming from.
Jennifer talks at me nonstop. Ignoring her, I lean back and shut my eyes and try to get some sleep. I need to get my mind off Quinn, and I don’t want to talk to Jennifer. Jennifer finally gets the hint and joins her friends in the back. I’m not disappointed in the least.
The flight is under two hours and is over quickly. Once we arrive in San Francisco, we deplane and get our luggage. I watch Quinn pile her computer bag and purse onto her roller bag. As she begins to walk away, it tips awkwardly and throws her bags to the ground.
I watch her carefully as she rearranges her bags and puts her purse on her shoulder, her determination evident and she starts again. The roller bag tips once again, dumping her computer bag a second time. She looks so cute struggling. I want to step in and help, but she’s been firm at putting distance between us. Watching her struggle shows me that, regardless when thrown a curve ball, she works through it, and I’m thoroughly impressed. There are dozens of options that would make her life easier, but she carries on. It takes me a few moments to realize her suitcase is missing a wheel. There is no way she’ll be able to maneuver her bag in this crowded place to catch the train into town. Finally I walk up to her and ask, “Can I help?”
She looks at me skeptically. I love how she pushes a stray curl out of her face and takes a big breath to steady herself. “No, thanks. I’ve got this.”
She drapes her computer bag across her body, hikes up her purse on her shoulder, and picks up her suitcase. It’s a lot. After about five feet, she needs to stop for a break. Unable to watch her struggle any longer, I pick up her suitcase with ease and hold my hand out for her computer bag, placing it with mine on my suitcase. “Follow me. You can’t ride the train into town with a broken suitcase.”
“The wheel had been loose before I left, but I didn’t think it’d break,” she mutters.
As I walk away, I look over my shoulder at her. “Are you coming?”
“I guess I don’t have much choice.”
“Most woman would say ‘Thank you’ when a guy came in and saved them.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed saving. Thank you,” she says, dripping in sarcasm.
I stop and turn to her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by the pool. I was an asshole. Please, let me make it up to you and offer you a ride home. I ordered a rideshare and can get you dropped off at your place.”
Softening, she says, “Thank you. That would be very much appreciated.”
“My car is this way.” I open my arm to usher her to my waiting car service.
“Do you always save the damsels in distress?”
“Only the ones as beautiful as you.”
She blushes, and it only makes her more beautiful.
Once we get situated in the car and are speeding our way into the city, I look at her and really see her beauty for the first time. I always knew she was a tall blonde with a perfect heart-shaped ass—very much my type, but I don’t play with women I work with. It’s just too messy. The slope of her neck makes me want to nuzzle and kiss it softly. Her breasts are perfect—not too small and not too large, with just a hint of her nipple that I yearn to pull and play with. And, her legs are long with flawlessly painted red toes. Before my erection busts out of my pants, I think of my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Dennison, and ask her, “Glad to be home?”
“I’ll miss that hotel room. It was much nicer than my apartment. What about you?”
“I missed my bed. I’m glad to be back.”
She nods and flushes. I’m positive her mind goes to the same place mine does.
Our hands are next to one another, and even though we aren’t touching, I can feel an electrical current pass between the two of us. She has luscious lips. I wonder what she tastes like. We don’t talk much on the ride into The City, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. When we get to her apartment, she opens the door before the driver can get out. Scooting out after her, I offer, “Can I help you take your things up to your place?”
“That could be dangerous. I think I can make it the rest of the way.”
“Dangerous?”
I see her nipples pebble beneath the thin cotton T-shirt she’s wearing. “Thank you for the ride home,” she says breathlessly.
“Any time.” I turn to get back into the car to drive the last few blocks to my place when she leans in to the car to give me a hug. She smells amazing.
“I’d suck your balls while you played with yourself,” she whispers, and I can’t help but grin from ear to ear.
I laugh. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
She gives me a devilish smile, and my cock becomes uncomfortable in my pants.
I’m going to dream about her going down on me tonight. I’m sure of it.
My alarm goes off long before I’m ready. I had a hard time falling asleep last night. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, I eventually had to listen to her voice mail and take care of myself. I’ve never had a woman affect me like she has.
Putting on some great 70’s southern rock, I hop on to my home rowing machine and begin working out to some Lynyrd Skynyrd. At just after five thirty, my phone rings. Who the hell is calling me this early? It’s a 215 area; that’s my dad’s area code in Philadelphia but not his number.
“Hello,” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“William Bettencourt, please.”
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
“William, this is Henry Gray. I’m your father’s attorney.”
My stomach tightens. “What can I do for you?”
“I really apologize for making this call so early, but there’s been an accident.” I sit up straight, fully alert. “There was a helicopter crash last week in Tanzania. They’ve searched the area, and—”
“Why am I just hearing about this now?”
“I understand, I was just made aware of this when your stepmother phoned my office recently. Apparently, your father was on a trip to Tanzania and was last seen with a Sherpa leaving to climb Kilimanjaro. I sent an agent to confirm he was on the helicopter. We know he departed from the Machame base, which is the scenic but steeper route to the top. I’m really sorry to have to call you so early. Your stepmother is in a financial bind, so it looks like she’s managed to get a death certificate, which will release funds so she can pay bills.”
“I thought my father had everything going into a trust?”
“He made some changes recently. William, you’ll need to come home.”
“It really isn’t a good time.”
“I understand, but your father has put a provision in your inheritance. You need to be married to get it. You have some time, but if you don’t meet that, your inheritance reverts back to your stepmother and her children.”
A headache begins to penetrate my skull. I take a deep breath. “When do you need me home?”
“We’ll do the reading in two weeks. I suggest you bring a girlfriend with you. Don’t let them think they can get at your inheritance.”
“I’ll let you know what I decide.”
I hang up the phone with every intention of returning to my workout, but now that I’ve completely cooled down, I can’t muster the energy. Why didn’t I know my dad was in Africa? My mom died when I was young, and he remarried when I was in high school. I’ve never liked my stepmother very much, and the feeling is somewhat mutual. She was only interested in my father’s money, and she has
two of the dumbest twin sons, who I refer to as Dumb and Stupid.
I don’t care if I get any of my dad’s money, but I don’t want Dumb and Stupid to get the money either. Fuck! I can’t believe I need to bring someone home. Who can I talk into coming home with me and not worry about them thinking they’ve got their claws into me?
As I shower and get ready for my day, I think about my father. Although he inherited a lot of money, I didn’t grow up in the wealthiest neighborhood in Philadelphia or go to the most expensive schools. We had nice things, but we lived modestly. My father was an engineer and inventor and came up with some patents, but he lived in a world all his own. He was devastated when my mom died, and it took some time for him to remarry, as no one would ever live up to my mom. But when he met Lillian, she somehow got him to marry her quickly, and in the end, she must have gotten him to change his will.
Chapter seven
Quinn
The breakroom is buzzing with activity as people arrive and dig into the breakfast burritos. They are by far the most popular item we get. I like them okay, but I discovered a long time ago that I really don’t care for the taste of pork green chili, and the burritos are filled with eggs, hashed browns, chorizo sausage, and pork green chili. I pour myself a big mug of hot water and dig out an Earl Grey tea.
As my tea seeps to a dark caramel color, I see Emerson. “Hey! How are you doing?”
“I can’t complain. How about you?”
“Busy, but I wanted to check in. The business development team has a few things closing shortly, and I need to get some of your feedback. Are you available today for lunch?”
I blanch. I can’t afford to eat lunch out right now, but I smile. “Of course.”
“Great, let’s go to WetBar and expense it back to the company. I’ll see if I can’t get us a reservation for noon.”
I breathe a bit easier. “I’ll meet you by the elevators at eleven forty-five.”
My morning is crazy busy, and before I know it, it’s time to meet Emerson and walk to lunch. WetBar is a great place on the water where the who’s who of San Francisco tech come to be seen. “I’m impressed you got a reservation,” I share.
“CeCe knows the owner, so I usually just call him.”
“She knows just about everyone, doesn’t she?”
“I know. But she’s cautious about bringing anyone into her circle of friends. We’re part of the lucky few.” She winks at me. Emerson and CeCe were college roommates, but they’ve been kind enough to include me in some of their girls’ nights and shopping trips—although I watch while they spend.
“That makes sense.” We walk along, and I feel like there is something she wants to talk about, and it isn’t the business our team is closing. I guess, if she brings up my second job, then I can just go home from lunch.
“I got a call from Jeannine Murphy.” My stomach drops. She’s the recruiter I reached out to about looking for a new job. I’m so grateful we’re walking, so I don’t have to look her in the eye for this conversation. “She mentioned someone on my team was looking for a new job. She didn’t tell me who it was, but I’m pretty sure it’s you.”
“It is me. I’m sorry.”
“Why? Is it someone on the team? Don’t you enjoy your work?”
Wanting her to see me say this, I stop and face her. “I love my work at SHN. I haven’t made any decisions, but I took a pay cut to come to SHN in hopes of getting on the partnership track, and that isn’t happening. I’ve had to pick up a second job to make ends meet, and it’s getting hard.”
Emerson’s face contorts in pain. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was embarrassed, and I wasn’t looking for a handout. You made it clear what the job paid when I took it, and I accepted that. I just didn’t realize how hard it would be to pay all my bills.”
We’ve arrived at the restaurant, and the owner is there to greet us. “Emerson, my lovely. So wonderful to see you. I’ve saved you a table on the water.”
“Thomas, you are very kind. Thank you.”
He leads us to a table that overlooks Treasure Island and the Bay Bridge.
After looking through the menu and ordering, Emerson pushes, “You’re very valuable to SHN. I can’t guarantee anyone will ever be a partner—”
“It doesn’t help that Mason still hates me since we broke up back in business school.”
She smiles. “I can’t speak to that, but I can talk to the team about a raise.”
“I appreciate that, but my bills aren’t the company’s problem. My rent’s expensive, and my school loans are even more than my take home each month.” I watch Emerson’s shoulders fall. She knows that doubling my salary isn’t an option. “Emerson, when I went to college, my dad had an amazing job. Halfway through my sophomore year, he got sick. He’s absolutely fine now, but the treatment was expensive, and my parents went through most of their savings, and they couldn’t afford my tuition any longer. I’d much rather have my dad than be debt free. I took out loans and went to grad school. We thought my dad would return to another great paying job, but unfortunately, he wasn’t able to return to work. Stanford was a calculated risk, but living in San Francisco in my hovel of an apartment is expensive. It’s my own fault. I have an expensive education.”
“I’m not sure what I can do, but I’d like to try. Promise me to not take any other jobs until I can figure this out.”
“I just reached out to Jeannine to see what she had. At this point, given she called you, I’m not sure I’d trust her.” Not to mention, I’m only looking because William could out me at any time, and they’d let me go. If she knew what my second job was, they’d have to fire me, and my looking is only to create a safety net.
“Don’t let Jeannine’s tactics get to you. She didn’t tell me your name, I just figured out who you were.”
We spend our lunch catching up on my accounts. It’s still fun to hang out with her. As we walk back to the office, Emerson asks, “How’s your love life?”
“What love life? I’m single in a city where the men outnumber the women, but I don’t have the equipment most of the men here are looking for.”
“Don’t you dare give up. I was resigned to that same thing, and I met Dillon.”
“I think you might have got the last good one.”
“Don’t tell that to CeCe. She’s still single.” Being reminded that CeCe is still single is encouraging. She’s stunning, self-reliant, funny, and super smart. If she can’t find a decent guy, then it isn’t us, it’s them!
I return to my desk, and I’m a little down on myself. I should have known better; the venture capital community is small. When William pulls the rug out, I’ll have to figure something else out.
Wednesdays are my day to spend at SketchIt. They’ve created a new architecture and engineering design tool, and they’re close to going public. The work has been intense in preparation, so I’ve been going there every week for months. I spend the day with a member of my team who works on-site, helping her however she needs. I also have meetings with the management team and will report back to the partners.
When I arrive, it’s still somewhat early, but it’s crazy busy, much more so than usual. As I head to Francie’s desk, our on-site human resource manager, I hear someone say, “They’re a group of Twitter trolls flooding the chat rooms and social media groups with misinformation.”
My ears perk up.
“I think someone is trying to breach the firewall.”
Seeing the engineering manager, I stop in my tracks. “This sounds like the hacker that has been hitting companies in Silicon Valley. We need to pull in Cameron Newhouse.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he says as he blows me off. “That’s just Derek. He overacts to everything.”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry. This is how it started with Pineapple Technologies,” I inform him.
“Well, you can call him and look like an idiot. I’m going to let my team manage this.”
<
br /> I’m stunned. How does he work for this company?
I quickly call Cameron, and he picks up at the second ring. “Yes, Quinn.”
“Sorry to bother you, Cameron, but I’m here at SketchIt, and I walked into a bit of a firestorm. They’ve had their chat rooms and social media sites hit with false information. And then one of the engineers said someone is trying to get behind the firewall.”
“Shit. I can be there in twenty minutes. This is how they started with Pineapple. Everyone was looking at how to deal with the misinformation and ignored that someone got behind the firewall.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I don’t want to throw the engineering manager completely under the bus, but I need him to know what’s going on. “Tom Hiddle believes the engineer who is talking about someone trying to get behind the firewall may be a Chicken Little. I haven’t talked to Rob, I just called you.”
“Good thinking. Tom Hiddle isn’t the brightest guy. Excellent catch. I’ll be there ASAP and will alert FBI Cybercrimes. Let Tom and Rob know I’m on my way.”
“Will do.”
When I disconnect the call, I see Tom talking to the CEO, Rob Paige. They’re busy and don’t seem to want to acknowledge my presence. “Rob, Tom, I just spoke with Cameron Newhouse, and he’s on his way.”
Rob looks at me and then at Tom. “Why is he on his way?” Rob asks.
“This is how things started with Pineapple Technologies. They flooded chat rooms and social media sites with false and negative information on the day they went public. It had everyone focused on that while someone went in behind the encryption and stole all their proprietary information and then posted it, destroying Pineapple. The company died within a week of going public.”
“Is there someone behind the firewall?” Rob asks Tom, and he winces.
“I heard someone say there was someone trying to get behind the firewall,” I tell him. “I thought we’d be better served with Cameron and his team’s help. I reached out to Cameron, and he’s reaching out to FBI Cybercrimes.”
Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance Page 4