Longing (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #7): A Billionaire Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “I like the way you think, Christopher.” Jim beams.

  Jim leaves, and I start looking through the proposals. Then I find it. Everest Therapeutics. They are in my maybe file. I see Jeremy Sutherland is the contact, and I have his number. I pick up the phone and dial him.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Jeremy Sutherland speaking.”

  He’s a bit formal, but that’s okay. He’s a nerd, but I’m one too. “Hi, Jeremy. My name is Christopher Reinhardt, and I’m with SHN. I received your proposal for funding.”

  “Oh? Err… yes? Um… what can I do for you?” he stutters, and it makes me smile.

  “I was wondering if I could take you out for a cup of coffee and talk a little more about what you are looking to accomplish.”

  “I sent you a proposal.” Typical nerd. He expects that what he’s said in his proposal is enough. Most of the time proposals are written by sales people and technical writers. We run into this sometimes when a potential investment is nervous about their position.

  “Yes, you did. I work in acquisitions concentrating in biotechnologies, and we are looking to add some pharmaceutical companies to our portfolio.”

  He’s quiet a few moments. “I’d love to share with you what we’re doing. I’m not sure we’ll be a match for what you described, but we can talk about it,” he says carefully.

  I really appreciate his honesty. He’s not a drug developer, which is why I moved him to the maybe pile.

  We set a time to meet in the morning, and I send an instant message into Mason.

  Me: Do you have some time today for a quick chat?

  Mason: Give me until two o’clock?

  Me: See you then.

  I use my time to pull some information and prepare for my meeting. Mason isn’t one of those who needs a lot of explanation, and he’s great about letting us follow our instincts. Just before two, I pick up my research, grab the proposal from Everest, and stop by the kitchen for two cups of coffee and a package of the peanut butter crackers I watch him eat all the time.

  He sees me and waves me in. “Thanks for your patience. We have things hopping with our hackers. Anyway, what can I do for you?” I hand him the coffee and crackers. “Thanks.”

  Sitting in the chair opposite of him, I share the Everest Technologies proposal and then hand him Jeremy Sutherland’s bio. “I met with Jim today, and it seems our Dr. Sutherland has made a convincing enough claim about his medicine delivery system that the Lasker Award committee are withdrawing the Lasker Award from Dr. Johnson.”

  Mason’s head snaps up at me in surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, here’s a scientific journal outlining the review.”

  “Wow, we really dodged a bullet with that one.”

  “Agreed. While Dr. Sutherland’s proposal didn’t merit an investment on its own, I was thinking we might want to partner Bella and Dr. Sutherland up. We could help the marriage along, and together they might have something phenomenal.”

  Mason takes a few minutes to review Dr. Sutherland’s proposal. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. I like the way you think. In the past when we set other companies up, it’s been our best and easiest companies to work with, and they’re always grateful that we put them together, so there’s never any resistance when we suggest changes. And the best part is they are our biggest successes. Look at Tsung Software. Christopher, this could be a big winner for us. Do you think you can talk Bella and this Dr. Sutherland into it?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Before I suggest it to Dr. Sutherland tomorrow, I wanted your thoughts.”

  “When do you meet with him?”

  “In the morning for coffee, in his neighborhood on the north side.”

  “Would you like me there?”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like these first meetings with just me so I can develop a level of trust with them.”

  “Great idea. I’ll put you on the agenda for Sunday night. This is brilliant. Well done, Christopher.”

  “I still need them to agree to this.”

  “If anyone can convince them, you can.” He stands and walks me to the door and pats me on the back.

  “Thanks, Mason.”

  I feel amazing, and this is a really big deal. I can’t believe we may actually find a cure, or at least something to prolong Parkinson’s patients’ connectivity for the rest of their lives. Talk about making a difference. Why would I ever want to do anything else?

  Chapter twenty

  Isabella

  I didn’t realize how much of my identity was wrapped up in my job. I’m not someone’s wife. I’m not someone’s mother. I’m my job—a scientist, and without a job, I’m not a scientist. Granted, I’m working on my PhD and I’m still teaching classes. I’m not destitute, but the idea that I was doing something for a disease that has impacted my life so significantly really made me who I am, and without that, I feel lost with no anchor in the storm that is surrounding me.

  After losing my job and walking out on Christopher, I can’t stand to be in my apartment. I try, but it upsets me too much to be there. I float from Ellie’s apartment to my mother’s home, to my aunt’s, and back and forth again. I’m focusing on being at the university and teaching. I’m trying to be present for my students—not worrying about being back at the lab or distracted by everything I need to do. My advisor meets with me and has a few suggestions on how I can salvage my research and still get my PhD, so I know it’s not a total loss, but I still feel the loss of my company—which was essentially my child.

  I’ve felt like I’ve been lost long enough. Before I head home, I go to the one place that I love the most. I walk through Golden Gate Park and enjoy the de Young museum.

  In my family, we are either scientists or we are artists. My aunt has a painting hanging in the Impressionist room, but my favorite is the textile exhibit. The bright, vivid colors remind me of my neighborhood and my friends, but also the dresses from decades ago and the tapestries speak to me.

  I stop and stare at a vintage Christian Dior wedding dress, and I take in the hand-beaded pearls and crystals. I really fucked up with Christopher. I know that I overreacted when I walked out, but I don’t know how to apologize at this point without being too vulnerable, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Looking at the dress and admiring the sweetheart neckline and the crinoline skirt after almost eighty years, it’s still jaw-droppingly beautiful but makes me sad. Walking with Christopher by my side and his defending me with my crazy aunts allowed me to think about myself getting married to him.

  Wandering through the exhibits, I enjoy looking at the American art. I always see something new. Suddenly, someone roughly grabs my arm from behind and whips me around, almost knocking me off my feet. Coming face-to-face with Dr. Johnson, I’m shocked.

  He stands too close to me, and I can smell the putrid breath and the raw onion smell of body odor. He has a glassy sweat sheen across his balding head and beads of sweat on his upper lip.

  “What did you tell SHN about our financials?” he demands.

  He speaks so quickly, I’m confused and not sure what he’s talking about.

  I pull my arm away from his tight grasp. “Don’t touch me. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  People are beginning to stare, and I’m grateful I’m in a public space.

  “You told them things about our financials. You need to tell me what you told them, so our stories match.”

  Why would I do him any favors after he pulled the rug out from under me and stole my company and my dream? “Our stories don’t have to match. You made sure I wouldn’t be part of Black Rock anymore.” I point at his sniveling chest as he breathes his awful breath at me in staccato bursts. “You need to go away.”

  He sneers at me, and I know I should fear for my safety, but all the anger I have replaces my fear.

  “I am not going away. This is my dream,” he says.

  That’s it. I take my finger and point it hard into his chest as I back him into the wa
ll. “No! This was my dream. A dream you stole from me.”

  “If you screwed this up, and I don’t get my money, I’m going to get even with you, bitch,” he menacingly sneers at me.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, but I can’t help but respond. “Go for it. I have nothing left. You’ve already taken everything from me that matters. I dare you.” With that final remark, I turn around and practically run out of the museum and grab a ride back to my place.

  I’m still shaking when I walk in my apartment. The air is stale from no activity in several weeks. I reach for my cell phone sitting on the table. I want to call someone and feel safe, but the battery is dead. Digging through my overnight bag, I find my charger and plug it in. While I wait, I go through the junk mail and pick things up. Once the charge gets to enough of a percentage it can function, it starts pinging like crazy. I have twenty messages in my voice mail and fifty-six texts. With a cursory look, most seem to be from Christopher and Ellie.

  My unread email lights up, and I see an email from the old lab manager Jim.

  To: Isabella Vargas

  From: Jim Thompson

  Re: My termination

  Isabella, I got your voice mail and tried to return your call, but your voice mail is full. I wanted to let you know that I didn’t quit. Dr. Johnson fired me. I’m sorry he led you to believe that I’d leave you hanging. He told me you both felt I wasn’t moving fast enough. But now that I know he told you I quit, it’s probably because I managed to stand up to him. I’ve heard through the grapevine that he recently took the company out from underneath you, and several of the team have gotten together and all quit in protest. Please know that if you are able to restart this venture, I’d love to join you again. I’ll wait to hear from you, but I’m truly, truly grateful for the opportunity that you gave me at Black Rock. Finding a cure, or at least a drug that extends a Parkinson’s patient’s quality of life, means the world to me.

  Jim

  I looked through the other various phone calls and voice messages, and I finally take the time and sit down and listen to them. The messages from Ellie start out like usual—let’s go out and move to more concern. I hooked up with her about a week after I disappeared, so she knew I didn’t have my cell phone.

  There are a few text messages from the team at Black Rock. They are text messages of solidarity and dismay over what had happened. I cry as I read them since they are kind and so supportive.

  Christopher’s messages begin with him begging to hear from me, and I feel terrible for not reaching out to him. I have such a level of sadness. My heart aches. I can’t believe what this has done to him, and the fact that I selfishly didn’t take my phone so I could recover will be difficult to explain.

  My box became full so he couldn’t leave any messages after about three days. But he kept the text message’s coming.

  Christopher: I understand you not wanting to talk to me, but please reconsider.

  Christopher: Good night. I miss you so much. Dinner tonight at the Arnaults’ was not the same without you.

  Christopher: Dillon has gone through Black Rock’s finances and something is off. Please call me.

  Christopher: Have you talked to anyone over at Black Rock? Emerson says they have almost an entirely new team.

  Christopher: I miss you.

  Christopher: I’m not giving up on you. You’re my everything.

  Christopher: I met your dad today. He was funny. I liked him a lot.

  Christopher: I know you don’t want to talk to me anymore, but I may have found a solution for you to get you your end goal—funding for a new medication and your PhD. Please call me.

  I can read how I’ve hurt Christopher, and that makes my heart ache. I’m still angry and disappointed about what happened but mostly because I lost my dream. I’m cautiously optimistic about what my future may hold, and for the first time, I debate reaching out to him, but my pride stops me. I’m embarrassed about what I said, and I still need to get myself together and have a good reason for my absence.

  I rub my arm where Dr. Johnson grabbed me. It’s going to bruise. Why did he think I told SHN about our books? Then I remember. I gave Christopher a long list of outstanding bills and our bank account balances. Mindy was always hinting that Dr. Johnson may not be what he promised, and I have a feeling she may have helped me sink Black Rock’s position to get any funding. I smile. I can’t help but like karma. I think it’s going to be a good day.

  Chapter twenty-one

  Christopher

  The only thing I do other than work is go home and watch sports news or games on television, and twice a week I play basketball with the gang. Today I’m angry. I’m angry about so many things that have gone sideways and how much I miss Bella. Our game is usually well played but rarely aggressive enough that people get hurt.

  Today we agree on a zone defense, and each time I get the ball, I play as if it’s me against the other team.

  “Christopher, you need to pass the ball.”

  I ignore Dave. I don’t have to do anything, and if I can see a chance to score, I’m going to take it.

  I step in front of one of my teammates to steal the ball and get knocked hard on my ass for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I jump up and get in the guy’s face. “What the fuck?”

  “Dude, you’re angry. Maybe today isn’t a great day to play.”

  “Fuck that. I’m here, and I want to play,” I yell.

  “Next time,” one of the other players says.

  “Give me the ball. Let’s go.”

  I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Not today, Christopher.”

  “This is fucked up.” I storm off the court to the locker room. It’s happened to most of us at some point, but I’m still mad they sent me out.

  Dave follows me. “Hey, how about we go get a drink at Scotty’s Bar?”

  “Whatever.”

  I don’t wait for him in the locker room to finish the game. I leave and head over to wait for him to join me at Scotty’s Bar.

  I’m half-way through my beer when Dave sits down. “How are you doing?”

  I’m feeling defeated and lost without Bella. “It could be better.” I think about it and seem to remember him mentioning he had a date tonight. “Don’t you have plans with Ellie?”

  He smiles. “I do, but she’ll understand if I’m a little late.”

  We walk over to the bar and order him a beer and me a second. I buy, given it’s my fault he didn’t get the workout he was hoping for. The beers are cool and refreshing. Dave’s a good guy, and I’m grateful he is hanging out with me.

  I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn and see Annabelle. “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey yourself. What’s up?”

  “I’m meeting my friends again, but when I saw you sitting here, I had to come over and catch up.”

  “That’s very nice of you. I’m just sitting here drowning my sorrow’s over about a breakup with my girlfriend.”

  “I’m so sorry. What happened?” I’ve never seen Annabelle so interested in anybody’s life other than her own, and I somehow want to take the bait to pour out my heart to her and hear what sage advice she may offer.

  “Dave, go find Ellie. Give her my best.”

  “Are you sure, man?” He looks at me skeptically to make sure I’m going to be okay.

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’ll head home shortly.”

  Annabelle smiles. She’s drinking a pilsner. “What’s going on with Bella?”

  I walk through everything that went wrong in our relationship and tell her how much it hurts that she hasn’t returned any calls, pouring my heart out to her.

  “I just believe she is my soul mate, the one that I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life.”

  She looks at her empty glass. “I totally understand. I feel that way about Mason. He’s my everything. But I’ve learned over the last three years that I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

  “You
’re very kind.”

  “Don’t let that get out. Everyone thinks I’m a bitch.” She smiles and winks at me.

  “I’ve never heard anyone say that.” A white lie won’t hurt her. No one trusts her, but to tell her that would only hurt her.

  “Give her some time. She lost everything that she thought made her who she is—her company, possibly her doctorate, and you. She’ll realize that the company and the doctorate are things that will bounce back, and hopefully she’ll realize she still loves you before I set you up with one of my friends who knocks you off your feet—when you’re ready of course.”

  Annabelle is really pretty sweet. I can see what Mason sees in her. She’s about ten years younger than the rest of us, and I can see why the girls are protective of Mason. He’s a nice guy, and he’s worth some serious cash.

  “I know this may be hard to explain, but there’s an ache that comes and goes, always returning in quiet moments. I miss her so much, I want to talk and laugh with her like we once did, and her absence weighs on me. Maybe eventually we can be together again—close, happy... I’ve had my heart broken before, and I know it will eventually mend. I’m just not ready to give up. I still love her, and I'd come running if she ever needed me, but for now, our paths are going in different directions, and every step is difficult.”

  “That’s very beautiful. I wish there was something I could do or say to make all of this go away.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate your talking to me. I should get home. When are your friends showing up?”

  “They came in a bit ago and are playing pool. They’re fine.” She stands on her tiptoes and gives me a hug. “Stay strong, Christopher.”

  I call a rideshare and wait outside the front door of the bar. I’m staring at my phone, looking through the pictures of Bella that I’d taken as we walked through the farmers market. She’s so beautiful. I get lost in those dark brown eyes, and I desperately want to run my fingers through her hair. Because I’m distracted, I smell him before I see him. I’m startled at Dr. Johnson’s presence.