Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series

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Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series Page 34

by Ainsley St Claire


  I pull a blue velvet box from my pocket. “Mia, when I first met you, you rocked my world with your baseball knowledge. As I’ve gotten to know you these past few months, I’ve discovered that every action I take now is with you in mind. When we’re apart, I think of you nonstop. I know we haven’t been together very long, but I’m hoping you will agree to marry me. We can have as long an engagement as you need, but I want to know if you will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, my partner, and my forever?”

  Her hand covers her mouth and I see tears in her eyes. She nods. “Yes,” she whispers.

  I place the platinum band with a four-karat, emerald-cut diamond on her finger. Then I stand and hold her tight. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress.”

  Martini Lunch Preview

  Chapter 1

  Elena

  “Get the fuck out of my office!” I hurl the desk lamp at Joshua Turner, my current business partner and former lover. Ugh. What a terrible combination and what a class-A asshole.

  “You know, you are such a bitch,” he says as he jumps back, despite the lamp landing six feet in front of him.

  “Fuck you,” I scream. “If you don’t like it, do us all a favor and quit!”

  “The last time I did that, you had the FBI camped out because you took our fight to Chirp and it tanked our stock. Then you begged me to come back.”

  Don’t remind me.

  My tears are going to sprout at any moment. This has been an impossible few weeks. My good friend Toni has been missing a month now, and then Joshua had to go and screw everything up, and he’s hardly owning it. I turn my back to him and fall into my chair so he can’t see me cry.

  After a moment, I hear the door shut quietly behind me. He’s right. I did beg him to come back, but those were extenuating circumstances. I was an emotional mess. We’d just gone public with Money Serve, and because I was angry that he’d freaked out and quit, I had a one-sided argument with him on Chirp. Since he’s our chief of technology and my cofounder, the SEC was concerned I was manipulating our stock prices. But I was just hurt and just expressing it entirely too publicly.

  I look out the window. Though it’s blurry at the moment, I love the view from our offices. I wipe my eyes. People pay big money to have views of the water or bridges, but I love our old, refurbished warehouse that overlooks Union Square. The people watching is fantastic, and the cable cars cruise up and down Powell Street. I sometimes take the cable car home at night, but only when I don’t have a bodyguard with me, which is rare these days.

  That’s what happens when the nerd falls for the handsome prince and the handsome prince isn’t interested. No, he’s interested in the Italian model who doesn’t have any hips and pert little breasts. Bitch. I hate her.

  My assistant, Paula Morgan, sticks her head in my office. “Are you all right?”

  I sigh. “I will be. I just can’t believe he did it again.” I turn my chair and wave her away. She closes the door behind her. I never get mad at anyone else the way I do Joshua. It’s like he knows exactly what buttons to press to set me off.

  Today was a fine example. We had a meeting with our investors, and he wasn’t prepared. These are highly scripted calls, and he bluffed his way through and made two false claims. As a result, the after-hours trading is affecting our stock prices and could very well land us both in jail. I’m so angry at him right now.

  I look at my watch, and it’s after four. I have enough work to stay all night, but I just can’t. Maybe some of my sisters can meet me for drinks—not my real sisters. These are the women who would help me hide the body, no questions asked, if I killed Joshua. They are my Stiletto Sisters.

  Me: I’m in desperate need of liquid refreshment. Anyone interested?

  Ryder: Tiger Den is still closed.

  The restaurant next door had a kitchen fire, which has closed the place for weeks now. We miss our watering hole.

  Claire: I’m in. What about that new bar at the top of the Transamerica building—Spirits in the Sky?

  Mia: I’m in. Axel is in LA, so it’s just SoBe and me tonight.

  Caroline: I can stop by. Mason has drinks after work and we have dinner plans at eight.

  Tinsley: Oh, I could use a break from Landon. I’m in!

  Me: I’m leaving now. If I’m too drunk by the time you get there, just make sure I don’t go home with any handsome strangers.

  Ryder: I say go ride the pony!

  Me: Ryder, you are naughty.

  Ryder: We’ll be on the lookout together.

  Marci: I’ll meet you there. I’m just leaving federal court.

  When I walk into the bar, I can see immediately that it’s very upscale—full of bankers and lawyers. Spirits in the Sky has a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the Bay and City, as it sits in the second-highest building in downtown San Francisco. I spot Ryder and Tinsley sitting in a large corner booth that overlooks the East Bay.

  “What are you drinking?” Ryder asks as I approach. “There are plenty of fine men in here buying drinks.” She raises her glass to a young man in a suit at the bar.

  I lean in. “Is he old enough to buy liquor?”

  “The younger they are, the longer they can go.” She licks the sugar on the glass rim and takes a sip of her drink, still staring at the man.

  “I don’t have that problem with Landon, even though he’s older than me.” Tinsley notes. “The wind shifts and he’s ready to go.”

  I laugh.

  The server comes over, and I ask for a high-end bourbon. “And make it a double, please.”

  We chat as Mia, Claire, Marci, and Caroline arrive. Once we’re all settled in, I take a look across the bar. It feels like every eye is on us, and I don’t blame them, frankly. We’re a beautiful group of women—even in work attire. This is my posse. My ride or dies. I trust them more than anyone else in the world. They mean the world to me, and I’d be lost without this group of friends.

  When the server returns, she places my drink in front of me. “The to die for gentleman in the gray suit and pink shirt standing at the bar has bought your drink.”

  Claire leans in. “Is that who I think it is?”

  I look over and see him. The man who ruined my day and possibly my life. I let out a frustrated sigh. “If you mean Joshua Turner, then yes. It’s him.” Turning to the server. “You can put the entire table’s drinks on his tab. He won’t mind.”

  She pulls back. “I…ah…need to tell…um… tell him.”

  I stand. “Don’t worry. I can tell him myself.”

  I saunter over, and I know many of the men in the place are watching. “Are you following me?”

  I feel a hand on my back and smell the citrus and spice of Joshua’s closest friend, Gio Russo, before I see him. He leans in for a kiss from behind me. “Elena, you look stunning.”

  “Thank you.” I shake my head. “What a surprise. When you see frick, frack is always close by.”

  Gio leans over and speaks to Joshua, just loud enough for me to hear. “She was a firecracker in bed, wasn’t she?”

  My blood pressure skyrockets.

  I look directly at Joshua. “Thank you for the drink. I told the server you wouldn’t mind buying for the whole table tonight.”

  He purses his lips and nods as I return to my seat.

  “Damn, that Gio Russo puts the sizzle in hot,” Claire breathes as I sit back down. “I think I need a cold shower.”

  “You’re welcome to have those two, but beware, I don’t think they keep anything from each other.”

  “Maybe that means you should take them both on.” Ryder moves her attention to Gio, who gives it right back to her.

  The table erupts in giggles.

  “What happened today?” Marci asks.

  “Let’s just say Joshua happened today,” I reply.

  The table all turns and looks at him, and he lifts his drink. He probably thinks I just told them he was buying tonight.

  Fucker.

  “D
id he know you were coming here?” Mia asks.

  I shake my head. “I don’t see how he could have. It’s just my dumb luck.”

  Gio approaches our table and slides in next to Ryder. He drapes his arm across her shoulders, leaving Joshua to stand awkwardly next to the table.

  “You both can leave now,” I say.

  Gio just looks at Ryder and caresses her shoulder with his thumb.

  I roll my eyes. I have the strongest urge to kick Joshua in the balls right now.

  After a moment Caroline makes room, and Joshua sits between her and Mia. We all hang out and talk for a while. We discuss plans for time off from work, fun places to eat in the City, and some of the summer events finishing up as fall begins. When Caroline stands to go, Mia, Marci, and I join her and say our goodbyes. These guys are ruining our night anyway.

  “Josh seems like a good guy,” Caroline offers as we head for the door.

  I snort. “That’s because you don’t have to work with him. He’s been dating a cousin of Gio’s, and I’d swear she’s anorexic. We had dinner with America Bank’s CEO last week, and he randomly showed up with her. It was a reservation for four and there were five of us.” I shake my head. “We had a fabulous meal at Quince, and she just moved the food around her plate.”

  Caroline’s face sours. “How can you not eat that food? There’s a reason it’s a three Michelin Star restaurant.”

  “Exactly. And I looked like an idiot because I was the only one without a date. I’d foolishly thought it would be me and Joshua with the CEO and his wife.”

  She gives me a side hug. “I’m sorry he’s so ignorant.”

  “It’s so much more than that,” I lament. “But I’m going to go home, take a nice, long bath, and go into the office late tomorrow. I promise to be in a better mood next time you see me.”

  “Why don’t you take some time off this weekend?” Caroline suggests. “Go up to Meritage and enjoy the spa.”

  We embrace before she gets in a car with her bodyguard, and I walk over to the California line cable car stop and take my seat on the bench. The car arrives shortly, and as we travel up the hill to the top, I start to feel better. I love the anonymity of riding the cable cars. There’s something about it that’s absolutely San Francisco that I just adore.

  My condo is at the top of Nob Hill at Huntington Park. Grace Cathedral is at one end of the park and the Fairmont Hotel is at the other.

  I wave to Donnie, our doorman, as I enter and take the elevator up, not to the penthouse, but to the sixteenth floor.

  Whiskers greets me at the door, meowing loudly.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” I reach down and pick him up, and his motor tells me he just wanted my attention. I peek in his bowl and he still has food, and I spoil him with a running-water fountain. He just likes his routine, and I’ve been struggling with my schedule recently.

  I look through my mail, and it’s nothing more than bills and flyers. I miss the days of getting letters—when someone took the time to write a note and mail it to me.

  I then spot the box from my Wine of the Month club. That’s better than a bill! I pull the bottle from its packaging and look over the information they’ve included about the wine as I pour myself a glass. It’s a pinot noir from the Willamette Valley in Oregon. Oh. This should be yummy.

  I take a small sip. I like it—a lot. It’s a little peppery and would taste good with a big steak. Maybe that’s what I should order for dinner—a steak and baked potato with everything, maybe some sautéed mushrooms.

  I walk to my bathroom, peel away my work clothes, and enjoy being braless. I slip a robe over my shoulders and start a bath. As I grab my glass from the kitchen, the bell at my front door rings. It must be one of my neighbors since guests can’t get past the doorman.

  I open the door and find Joshua standing there.

  “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I demand.

  He looks me up and down. I’m in a silk robe, so not a lot gets past him, but it’s not like I’m naked.

  “Are you expecting company?” he asks with disdain.

  My fists clench at my sides. “Why do you care? Answer my question. How did you get up here?”

  “I’m still on the list. May I come in before your latest conquest arrives?”

  He’s the one who showed up to a business dinner with a date. I roll my eyes in frustration. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to yell at you where all of my neighbors can hear.”

  He walks in and looks around my apartment, though I don’t know why. It hasn’t changed since the last time he was here.

  Whiskers winds himself between his legs and purrs.

  Traitor. “Why are you here?” I ask.

  “We need to talk,” he says, looking at my chest.

  I tighten my robe. “We probably do, but I’m still too pissed that you fucked up so royally with our investors. I may not have a lot that’s constructive to say.”

  “Well, there’s actually more than that.” He stops and looks at the ceiling. “Can you please put some clothes on? You’re very distracting.”

  Suddenly I remember that I left the tub running. “Shit!” I dash to the bathroom and make it before the tub overflows. I wouldn’t be able to get in without it overflowing, so now I need to wait for the valve in the tub to drain it away. What a waste of water.

  I pull on a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. I’m not putting a bra on for him.

  I walk out to find him cuddled up on my couch with Whiskers. “What do you need from me right now?”

  He sits up. “You could at least put a sweater on.”

  Putting my hands on my hips, I sneer at him. “What. Do. You. Want?”

  “I figure we need to discuss how we’re going to fix what happened today.”

  “You mean the fact that you went off script when you answered the question from JP Morgan? Or the fact that what you said to Lynch Investments was tacitly untrue?”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  I sigh. “I suppose we’re going to have to—”

  “Damn. I’m only human. Put a sweater or a bra on.”

  I smile. He always did like my breasts. I squint at him, and I’m about ready to tell him off when I get a better idea. I reach for my shirt, pull it over my head, and let the girls roam free. “They’re just mammary glands. Everyone has them. Stop acting like you’re in junior high.”

  He about chokes.

  “If you can stop the blood in your brain from pooling in your dick for a moment, maybe you can listen to me when I tell you we need to meet with Marci Peterson tomorrow. She’s all tied up with the Viviana Prentis trial, so I’m not sure she can take us on, but I’ll ask.”

  He nods, still staring at my chest.

  “I’ll let you know what time to meet us,” I say as I open the door for him to exit.

  My neighbor Phil walks by, and he barely seems to notice my naked torso. See? Not everyone is all about tits. Okay, if I had a penis hanging out, Phil would have stopped and introduced himself, but that’s a different issue.

  Joshua walks out. “You need to pull it together,” he informs me. “You’re completely unhinged.”

  “I’m unhinged? I’m angry. I didn’t just lie to Wall Street and our stockholders. Your lies led to a forty-two-point gain in our stock price today. You did that. And those kinds of lies will find you, and possibly me, wearing orange jumpsuits in federal prison.”

  “I think you’re overreacting.” He looks down the hall, trying to avoid my bare chest. “Look, I think it’s time we sell our control of the company—let the board hire a CEO and chief technology officer and walk away. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  If he’d stabbed me in the heart, it would have hurt less than what he just said.

  “Just leave.”

  He turns down the hall. “You know I’m right.”

  I fight tears of total devastation. This company means everything to me. Joshua and I built the technology when we were undergrads
at the University of Florida. He had the personality to sell our idea to the investors at SHN, and I was the nerd who created it. SHN wanted a female CEO, so he and I agreed to be equal owners—I would run the company and he would run the technology. After just five short years, just about every penny processed through online retailers, credit cards, banks, or wire transfers now moves through the company we built.

  I don’t know what I’d do without Money Serve.

  I shut the door, walk back to my bedroom, curl up on my bed, and cry.

  To PreOrder on Amazon

  To read about what lead to Viviana going to jail, consider reading the Tech Billionaire Series beginning with House of Cards. Here is the first chapter.

  Chapter 1

  Jonathan

  I’m nervous. As I move through my casino, I stop to breathe into my hand and take a quick smell.

  It doesn’t smell like anything other than my clean hand. Does this really work to tell if your breath is bad? I don’t know. But I need to figure it out before Maggie gets here.

  I’ve been in love with Maggie Reinhardt since we were teenagers, and she called out of the blue to tell me she’s flying in and wants to see me.

  She was here a few months ago during the pre-opening for the Shangri-la, my casino resort on the Las Vegas strip, when her brother’s venture capital firm held a corporate meeting here, and he and his fiancée eloped. We reconnected, fell into bed, and it was amazing. It was everything I’ve ever dreamed of. We’ve traded emails and texts and phone calls since then, and I’ve been asking her to come back. But she’s busy with work, and then her dad passed away last month. I went home to Minneapolis for the funeral, but the family was surrounded, and I was buried in the Shangri-la’s official opening back here, so I didn’t stay long, and Maggie and I didn’t really connect.

 

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