Jazz: A Romantic Suspense Aladdin Retelling (Happily After When Book 1)

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Jazz: A Romantic Suspense Aladdin Retelling (Happily After When Book 1) Page 16

by Emily Bourne


  He shows it to Eddy. “It doesn’t look like she knew this was being taken.”

  Eddy squints at the photo, and then hurriedly turns to the back of the folder. “Man, there are heaps of them.”

  “He’s having her followed?” Gene asks anxiously.

  Eddy reads another piece of paper and Adrian reads his face for clues. Eddy meets his eyes. “It’s a rehab admittance form. Jazz has a substance issue?”

  “Hell no!” Gene blurts. “I follow everything about her. No way.”

  “She wouldn’t,” Adrian says, shaking her head. “You had a session with her?”

  Eddy nods. “They’re trying to silence her.”

  “She’s going into an ambush,” Adrian says, turning to the door. “We have to help her.”

  Gene pulls him back. “Not like that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Gene gestures to his attire. “You’ll never get in dressed like that. And that hair. You need to look the part.”

  “Oh, bull,” Adrian scoffs.

  Eddy nods to Adrian. “Listen to him on this one.”

  Adrian rolls his eyes and sighs. “Ok. What do you propose we do?”

  Gene grimaces. “I’m gonna have to wade through that unholy mess of clothes again.”

  “There’s nothing new in there,” Adrian says.

  “Is that bloodstain still on your shirt?”

  “It’s washed,” Adrian says apprehensively. “You want me to wear it again?”

  “It’s emergency time,” Gene says. “I need an iron and some thread. I’ll work quickly.”

  Eddy passes the folder to Adrian. “You need to work at the snap of a finger to get there in time.”

  Approval

  ETHAN straightens his tie and winks at his reflection. He turns to the desk in Darius’ office and asks his mentor, “Ready to go?”

  “Just a minute.”

  “I trust you’re feeling well after last night’s spa treatment?”

  “The hotel stay was a bit much. I could have rested in my own home.”

  “You don’t appreciate my efforts?” I know I slept better knowing where you were.

  Darius chuckles as his eyes scan the last page of Ethan’s proposal to the board. “Of course, Son. Aren’t you planning on walking into the boardroom with your fiancé?”

  “She’ll be here,” Ethan says, checking the time on his phone. “You know Jazz, she likes to make a grand entrance. Or at least that’s what we tell people to hide how scattered she is.”

  Darius looks to the window and shakes his head. “I thought I knew who she was.”

  “Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s human to see your daughter through rose-coloured glasses. I’m sorry she broke the spell at such an important time. I had hoped she’d keep in line to get us through this meeting.”

  “You’re worried she’ll embarrass you in front of the board?”

  Ethan scratches his chin. “Maybe it would be best if she sits this one out. Is that what you are suggesting?”

  Darius lifts the document and gestures it at Ethan. “Your plan details you and she work together. She needs to be in the room and show her face during the meeting. If she gets out of line and needs a time out, so be it.”

  Ethan chuckles and gestures to the door. “Shall we?”

  Darius moves around the desk and hands the document to Ethan. “Good luck in there.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

  They move across the executive floor to the boardroom.

  “Mr Roth,” Mrs Salinger from the board says, greeting them by the frosted glass door. “Congratulations on the engagement. Where is your bride-to-be?”

  “Thank you,” Ethan says, taking her hand. “She’ll be in soon.”

  “It was a surprise to hear about it,” Mr Fryer says, taking his seat at the long narrow table.

  “Well, you know Miss Abadi,” Ethan says, placing his paperwork on the small table by the projector screen. “She must let the whole world know what’s going on in her life. But it’s also what makes her so valuable to our corporation. Her Collage account gives such a great return on investment. It’s an impressive skill, just not a CEO-worthy skill.”

  Some mutters of laughter rise from the greying old men as they take their seats.

  “But having Jazz in senior management is important to my future father-in-law.” Ethan sends a smile Darius’ way as Heather helps him into his chair. “And me. I want to be working side-by-side with my wife. We will be the new generation of the Abadi family to take the company to the next level. Sir, do you wish to add anything before I start my presentation?”

  All eyes land on Darius.

  Darius clears his throat, and his face brightens with a peaceful smile. “As most of you know, I had what could be described as a near-death experience. Ethan Roth has stayed by my side and helped me speed through my recovery. He is diligent, hard-working and extremely motivated. Ultimate ME will be in expert hands.”

  “So he has your approval?” Mr Fryer asks, clicking a pen. “You’ve named him your successor?”

  Darius takes another look at Ethan, then returns to Mr Fryer. “Yes, he has my backing. The board still has the final say, of course, but I’m confident in Mr Roth.”

  Ethan rubs his hands together, grinning enthusiastically. “Shall we begin?”

  Embrace

  JAZZ runs into the lobby of HQ, her sunny yellow skirt billowing around her legs and her stiletto heels clicking.

  “Oh, Miss Abadi,” the lobby receptionist says, walking by with a bundle of packages and a headset clipped over her hair. “How are you? Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”

  Jazz gags and forces a smile. “Thanks. Did you see my father arrive?”

  The receptionist checks her watch. “He and Mr Roth should be in the boardroom now.”

  “Damn.” The elevator pings open. “Thanks.” Jazz hastily moves inside and hits the button for the executive floor.

  She steadies her breath on the way up. Conflicting ideas plague her head. Did she want to contest the CEOship? She rubbed her fragile heart. She needs to speak to her father. Ethan had him locked away somewhere last night. But surely he’s in the boardroom. If Ethan wanted her there, he’d want her father there too.

  “Father!” Jazz yells, bursting into the boardroom as Ethan is mid-sentence, pointing to a slide on the projector screen.

  She pushes past Ethan and lands by her father’s sides. She drops to the ground and clutches his hand. “Father, are you ok?”

  Darius shifts in his chair, and a frown tightens his expression. “Now you decide to check in?”

  “I... I didn’t know...” she stammers.

  “Miss Abadi,” Mrs Salinger scowls. “That was a crude outburst. Not to mention you’re late.”

  Jazz stands, eyeing Mrs Salinger with contempt. The only woman on the board. A woman concerned with decorum and acting ‘lady-like.’ A woman Jazz has never cared for.

  “Jazz, why did you disappear?” her father asks. “I thought someone injured you, or kidnapped, or worse.”

  “But father, sometimes we can go days without...”

  “Why would you be so reckless at a time that is so important to us and our company?” Darius questions. He glances at Ethan and back to her. “I’ve been informed of the alcohol issues that have arisen.”

  Gasps erupt from the board.

  I should have known. She shoots Ethan a look, who has fake concern scribbled across his face.

  “So now you’re faking a substance abuse problem too?” she asks him, loud enough to engage every ear in the room.

  Ethan slides a hand over his heart, his gaze softening as he edges toward her. “Jazz, I love you. I’m concerned about you. I want you to get the help you need. I want to be there with you every step of the way.”

  Jazz retches and then hisses a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Mr Fryer stands from his seat. “Please, can you all please act with s
ome professionalism and stick to the matter at hand?”

  Jazz rolls her eyes and faces her father. “He had my phone and made the posts from my Collage account.”

  “What are you talking about?” Darius asks.

  “Why are you being like this?” Ethan asks, gently cupping her wrist. He leans in and stage-whispers, “Is that liquor on your breath?”

  As Mrs Salinger gasps like a woman in a 1950s film, Jazz reefs her arm from Ethan’s grip, disgusted. “Don’t you dare!”

  Ethan steps past Jazz, saying to Darius, “I’m still committed to Jazz and getting her the help she needs.” He looks across to the board members. “I’ll stand by her whilst keeping the company afloat.”

  “He’s a fraudster,” Jazz accuses, sending her arm out pointed to Ethan as she finds her father’s eyes. “He faked our engagement.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ethan asks, letting his frustration get the better of him. “You said yes. Did you decide to take it back after your booze-cruise?”

  “Booze-cruise?” Jazz asks, screwing her face up.

  “I was sceptical when Ethan first proposed the idea to me,” Darius begins, calm and collected, “but perhaps, dear daughter, you should accept his marriage proposal.”

  “What?” Jazz’s head feels seconds from imploding.

  “You are obviously struggling to keep your mental state in check.”

  “Ok.” Jazz closes her eyes and raises her hands. “I don’t know what kind of rubbish he’s been feeding you. How about I make my presentation and you can decide for yourself?”

  “Mr Roth is still part way through his presentation,” Mrs Salinger says.

  Ethan smirks and steps away from the podium. “No, no. It’s fine by me. Please, Jazz, take your place and make your speech.”

  Jazz takes a deep breath and moves behind the podium, ignoring Ethan’s sneer. She takes in all the faces, and then says, “I don’t want to be CEO.”

  Murmurs run up and down the table in questioning tones.

  “I’ve spent the last few days at a refuge centre for vulnerable and homeless people. The work is rewarding, and for the first time, I’ve felt truly fulfilled. I’ll concede the CEOship to Ethan with plans to personally fund the shelter. If anyone on the board wants to buy my shares, it would help my ability to financially support the work.”

  “STOP THIS,” Darius bellows, standing for the first time. “I’m incredibly disappointed in your actions. I asked you to fight for your place at the top, not go running from it.”

  “I wasn’t running,” Jazz argues. “I needed time. Ethan ambushed me with a fake proposal and––”

  “––Fake proposal?” Mr Fryer questions.

  “You should have been stronger than to let Ethan rattle you,” Darius fires back.

  Jazz’s heart pounds in her ears. “Did you... You knew Ethan would ask me to marry him?” Jazz asks, her voice going up an octave. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “I thought Ethan took on my advice. When I didn’t give my blessing, I assumed I’d taken care of it and there was no need to notify you.”

  “But you still agreed to him taking over the company?”

  “No. I told you. You needed to prove yourself. To be worthy of the title and be the embodiment of the Abadi name.”

  “And what about honouring my mother’s name? Living courageously like she did.”

  The frosted glass doors burst open and over her shoulder, Jazz sees Adrian and Gene stumbling into the room.

  “Adrian?” she questions. “What are you two doing here?”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Mr Fryer shouts. “How did you get in here?”

  “Jazz,” Gene says, holding out a document folder. “You need this.”

  “Who are these people?” Darius asks, rubbing a fist against his heart. “Jazz, you know these two?”

  “They are from the shelter I was staying at this week.” She smiles at Adrian and Gene. “They can verify I wasn’t living it up on a yacht out at sea.”

  “A yacht?” Adrian asks.

  “Sounds a lot better than where you were,” Gene remarks.

  Adrian nods. “If Jazz needs someone to prove where she was, then we have a whole centre filled with people who got to know her over the last few days.”

  “You people,” Mr Fryer says, standing and waggling his finger at Adrian and Gene. “Out at once! This boardroom is for authorised personnel only.”

  Jazz spots the offence in the boys’ eyes and quickly motions for them to leave the room with her. She tells the board she will return after a moment and follows them out of the room.

  “Why are you here?” Jazz questions them.

  “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see,” Adrian says, his posture slouched.

  Jazz bats a hand, wanting to forget the ugliness that made her flee the shelter.

  “But you need to see this,” Gene says, handing her the document folder.

  Jazz opens the folder and shakes her head. “This is Ethan’s business plan. I’ve seen this. He showed it to me.”

  “No, look at the back pages,” Gene urges.

  Jazz flips through the pages and finds a log of items. She tilts her head as she inspects the papers, working out what exactly she’s looking at. “A list of phone calls?” She examines the next page and sees a list of names of high ranking city officials and law enforcement officers, their contact information and hand-written notes. Are these the numbers the Mayor was talking about with Ethan?

  When she gets to the next page, she’s taken by such immense surprise she drops the folder. The page with pictures of her by her bedroom window, leaving the gym, and walking into HQ, stare up at her from the floor.

  “He’s following me?” Jazz says in a hush, her hands shaking.

  “He had some shady cop follow me through the streets,” Gene tells.

  “I didn’t know he’d be this devious,” Jazz says, sadness and anger brimming inside her.

  “We figured there was more you didn’t know about,” Adrian says.

  “You need to get this guy,” Gene says. “Don’t let him get away with this.”

  Jazz presses her hands into her stomach as it swishes inside of her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Adrian moves in closer, slipping an arm around her back and holding her shoulder.

  “It shouldn’t surprise me,” Jazz whispers. “Ethan is a pig.”

  “Creep,” Gene mutters. “We saw the engagement post.”

  “Ethan had my phone all this time,” Jazz says. She turns to find Adrian’s eyes. “The post was a fake.”

  Adrian nods. “I know. You told me what this guy is like. I don’t like the thought of you anywhere near him.”

  Jazz slips out of Adrian’s embrace and puts on a brave smile. “I can handle myself.” She runs her eyes along Adrian’s attire, noting the stitching on the sleeve of the dress shirt. “You’re getting used to dressing up?”

  “Even with a bloodstain, it’s still the nicest shirt in the shelter,” Gene says, fixing Adrian’s collar.

  “Looks like you cleaned it up,” Jazz says. “You’re a fast worker, Gene.”

  “You need to get in there,” Adrian says to Jazz, serious. “We just wanted you to have all the information.”

  Jazz looks at the papers by their feet. “How did you get these?”

  Gene spins her back to the frosted boardroom doors. “Never mind that. Just show that clown who’s boss.”

  Choice

  JAZZ slams her hands against the doors to push them open. She collected the images from the floor and holds them high.

  She tosses the paper at Ethan. “What the hell is this?”

  Ethan looks at the crumpled paper, his eyebrow arching. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “You’re having me followed,” Jazz accuses.

  “Jazz,” Darius hisses.

  “Jazz, if I was having you followed,” Ethan begins, “I would have brought you home. All I
got from you was a text message saying you were on a boat.”

  Jazz groans, scratching her throat. “Stop lying!”

  Ethan steps close to Jazz and pushes back a lock of her hair.

  Jazz retches and flinches from his touch.

  “We talked about this,” Ethan whispers to feign intimacy, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “We will work through this together. Get you through your issues and work together at the helm.” Ethan turns to Darius. “But maybe it’s best I take control for the first few months as we get Jazz the help she needs.”

  Jazz pushes against Ethan’s chest. “I’m not a drunk! Would you stop this?”

  “Everyone saw the footage from Overity,” Ethan says, gesturing to the board. “Please, Jazz, let me help you.”

  Jazz moves past him, to her father. “All I’ve done is study and work. When have you ever known me to go to a party or a bar that wasn’t purely for work purposes?”

  “We don’t see a lot of each other,” Darius says slowly. “Perhaps I missed something?”

  “All I’ve done is to be loyal to you,” Jazz whimpers, tears welling in her eyes.

  Darius wipes a thumb under her eye. “Tears?”

  Jazz sniffs and looks away. “I know, not professional.”

  “You disappeared, and my health declined,” Darius says. “I let my vulnerability take in Ethan’s every word. Who you really are didn’t allow me to see sense. You’re allowed to have emotions.”

  “You’ve never let me before,” Jazz replies.

  “Please,” Darius says, gesturing to the door. “A moment outside. Board members, please indulge me in taking a private word with my daughter.”

  “This meeting has been most unorthodox,” Mrs Salinger says, jaw clenched.

  “Be quick,” Mr Fryer adds.

  Jazz and her father hurry into the hall.

  “Those emails weren’t from you?” Darius questions, his tone low.

  “No, Father. I haven’t had my phone since I was at the bar with Ethan. I didn’t know he had it.” Jazz’s emotions get the better of her and her eyes fog with tears. “I didn’t know you grew so ill. Please believe me. I would have been by your side otherwise.”

 

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