One Last Mistake: A Billionaire Romance (The Ironwood Billionaire Series Book 3)

by Ellie Danes

  “Wow, that was…interesting.” She winked. “So now you’re dating some hot mystery man?”

  I shrugged. “You saw why Connor came over to talk to us, right? He wanted to rub all that stuff about him having the perfect girlfriend, relationship, vacation, and proposal in my face. I wasn't about to let him get all smug on me like that. I had to counter it with something.”

  “I know but...Kyle? Is this someone you actually know?”

  “Kyle was...well, he was the guy who went home with me last night.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding with mock sincerity. “And you thought he was a good fit for someone to be your pretend boyfriend?”

  I shrugged. “He was the first guy who came to mind, and I had to think fast.”

  I secretly wondered, though, whether that was really why I had picked him as my pretend boyfriend, or if there was more to it than that. No, I couldn't afford to get stuck on thoughts like that right now. I pushed it out of my mind.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “that's over, and hopefully I won't see Connor again for a long time. Or maybe, even, not ever again. That would be the most ideal scenario. Anyway, let's just forget about that and talk about something else.”

  We chatted a bit more and had a good lunch. At the end of our meal, I got a call from Phil asking if I could some in to the offices in an hour to meet the CEO.

  An hour later, I pulled up outside the skyscraper where their offices were located. It was an impressive building, all shiny chrome and polished glass, and much grander and imposing than the smaller office building in which I had previously worked.

  I walked in, and a pretty young receptionist with a welcoming smile and an affable manner greeted me.

  “Hi,” I said. “My name is Meredith Benson. I'm here to see Ronald Williams.”

  She nodded. “Ah, yes, Ms. Benson, you're right on time. Go through to the elevator there, take it to the top floor, and then turn left. Mr. Williams's assistant will be waiting there for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I went up to the top floor and followed her directions, and soon encountered an older woman with a stern face.

  “Ms. Benson?” she asked as I approached.

  “I am, yes.”

  “Welcome to the company. We're pleased to have you. My name is Linda O'Malley, and I'm Mr. Williams' personal assistant. He's waiting for you in his office, just down the hall there. Please go straight through to him.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ms. O’Malley. I'm sure I'll enjoy working with you.”

  “Linda, please.” Despite her stern expression, her eyes twinkled.

  “Call me Meredith.”

  We smiled at each other, and then I walked down to the office and knocked on the door.

  “Come on in,” said a voice from within.

  I walked in and saw a portly, elderly man sitting behind an enormous desk. The style of his office was that of a bygone era; it had its charms with the antiques and dark, heavy wooden paneling, but I would have preferred something a lot lighter and more modern. Still, it wasn't my office, so my opinions on its style didn't really count for much.

  “Take a seat, Ms. Benson,” he said, pointing at a chair in front of his desk.

  There was something weirdly familiar about him, even though this was the first time we had met. It felt as if we knew each other, or at least as if I had seen his face somewhere. There was something about his features that struck me as familiar. He had obviously been very handsome as a younger man, and well-built too; the echoes of it remained, even though it looked as if he was close to seventy.

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Williams,” I said with a smile.

  “Please, call me Ronald,” he said. “Everyone here does.”

  And his voice sounded like someone else's voice, someone I had spoken to recently, yet I had never spoken to this man before. This was very weird.

  “All right,” he said. “There are some things we need to discuss about your job, so, let's get started.”

  “Okay,” I replied, “let's get down to business.”

  Chapter 6

  Kyle

  I was breathing hard, and each breath I drew in felt like I was dragging sandpaper down the inside of my throat. My lungs were burning, like someone had filled them with boiling oil, and my muscles were screaming out in agony as sharp pain shot through them with every movement.

  There was no way I was gonna stop or slow down, not now, not with the final mile in sight. I rounded the corner, pounding the pavement, and got onto the long straight that would take me to the finish line. Well, the lamppost that I used as the finish line marker of my ten-mile course.

  Just a mile to go. I had to push harder—I was already two minutes behind my usual time.

  The final mile felt more like another ten miles, and when I finally crossed the finish line I wanted to drop to the ground and throw up. Jake was already standing there, and he watched me stumble over to a nearby wall to lean against it with a smirk on his face.

  “What's the matter, buddy?” he asked, grinning. “Still feeling the effects of yesterday's hangover?”

  “Come on, man, that was two nights ago,” I panted. “I'm fine. Get off my case.”

  “You don't look fine,” he remarked. “And you finished almost three minutes slower than you usually do. That's huge, man.”

  I couldn't argue with him on that, and I didn't really have the energy to make any kind of comeback, so I just leaned against the wall, trying to get air back into my winded lungs. And as much as I wanted to deny it, he was right. This inferior performance was the result of too much partying.

  “You know, when you get into your thirties those hangovers start to really kick your ass,” he said. “Listen, bud, I'm not trying to be condescending or trying to tell you how to live your life, but as you’re my running partner and best friend, I feel like I have to say something. You should cut down on this drinking and partying stuff. I know that you're not doing it that often anymore, and that work is keeping you busy. But you still do it more than you probably should.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I grunted snidely.

  “Come on, man, listen to what I'm saying,” he continued, persisting with his little sermon. “You're suffering now. That was a ten-mile run, one we do three times a week. You shouldn't be this exhausted. Last time you did it almost three minutes faster, and we were able to go throw a football around right after. I don't think you could even throw a crumpled-up ball of paper right now. And it's the hangover! You didn't get enough sleep, you were dehydrated, and I'm telling you, you're not twenty-one anymore. It takes your body a lot longer now to recover from the kind of ass-kicking that a night of heavy drinking and no sleep does to it. Trust me.”

  I let out a long, slow sigh as I gradually managed to get my breath back.

  “I know,” I muttered. “I do have to cut back on that stuff. And you're right. Tossing a football around now is about the last thing I feel like doing.”

  “Yeah, don't worry about that. Come on, let's go get a smoothie and cool down.”

  “Okay. We gotta make it quick because I have that conference to prep for.”

  * * * * *

  “All right, son, are you sure you're ready for this?” my dad asked as we stood backstage.

  A few feet away on the stage, the emcee was making a few announcements—boring welcome stuff. In a couple of minutes, my life and the company were about to change.

  “I’m as ready as I'll ever be,” I said.

  I tried to sound sincere and enthusiastic but in truth, I was not ready. I wasn't sure what it was, because I did genuinely care about the company and had a vision for its future. But a part of me was apathetic about the whole thing. Maybe I felt that my dad was thrusting this onto me a little too quickly, a little too suddenly. Or maybe there was some other area of my life in which something wasn't right, and it was leaking out and poisoning this. I didn't know, but now wasn't the time to get too deep into this.

  �
��Great. Well, get ready to kill 'em, my boy! I'm going out there to make my speech. You know when your cue is.”

  “I know, Dad, and I'm ready.”

  He and I embraced briefly and then he stepped back and looked at me with admiration. “I'm proud of you. And I want you to make me even prouder than ever now. Can you do that?”

  “I can,” I replied, but I really wasn't sure.

  I watched as my dad walked out onto the stage, where he was greeted with cheers and applause from the thousand people who were gathered there. A nervousness was stirring in my belly. It wasn't quite fear, but there were definite tinges of anxiety. Was I ready for this? Was I really? One way or another, I was about to find out.

  “I started this company in the seventies,” he was saying, “and back then it was only me and my buddy Anthony working out of a tiny, cockroach-infested office in New Jersey.”

  Everyone chuckled, and my dad did, too.

  “Yeah, you guys should have seen that place!” he said with a laugh. “There was a whole cockroach civilization living in there!”

  Again, everyone laughed.

  “It was just before home computers became a thing,” he continued, getting more serious now, “and he and I both knew that if we could connect the smartest investors with the computer market, which was about to explode, there was money to be made. So, that's how we started! Connecting hobbyist investors with guys who were starting out little computer companies in their garages. Some of those guys working in garages or their mom's basements went on to become household names. And this company was a part of that. Then, in the nineties, we got in on the whole dotcom thing, when the Internet became a household staple. And then a decade ago, when the first social media platforms started emerging, we helped investors connect with those, too. And now, the biggest emerging opportunities are in cryptocurrencies. And this is what we're going to be focusing on now, because I can tell you, just like I knew back in the seventies that home computers were going to be huge, I know that cryptocurrencies are going to be massive.”

  A murmur of agreement rippled through the audience.

  “But I'm not going to be around to take this company on to the next phase.”

  Everyone was stunned immediately into silence. My father paused, allowing the audience a few moments to come to grips with what he had just said.

  “You heard me right,” he said. “I'm not going to be around anymore. My time has come, my dear friends – that's right, friends, because I think of every person working here as a friend, not just an employee. I've built this company up from a two-man operation turning over a profit measured in hundreds of dollars to a huge corporation turning over profits in the billions. But I couldn't have done it without all of you.”

  Everyone was still quiet, probably all still shocked about what he was saying.

  “I know that this is huge news, and that none of you, bar two or three people, were previously aware of it. But don't worry! All of your jobs are safe, and nothing is going to change.”

  As he said that, my stomach twisted into a knot. I remembered what I’d told the girl I'd slept with. All the secrets I’d let slip out about the possibility of letting people go and selling off a large portion of the company to investors. Suddenly, I felt sick, almost as if I was going to throw up. I pulled in a few deep, calming breaths and managed to allay my anxiety. Was I still going to do that? To tell the truth, I didn't know.

  “You see,” my father continued, “this company is still going to be run by a Williams. Not Ronald Williams any longer. No, my time is up, and I'm about to enter retirement, something that, as much as I love running this company, I've been looking forward to for quite some time. Yes, I'm ready for a bit of long overdue rest and relaxation! So, this is it! This is where I sign off, my friends. It has been an amazing journey with all of you, and I wish all of you the best and the greatest success in the days to come.”

  “Goodbye, Ronald!” someone yelled from the audience. “We're gonna miss you!”

  The tone of affection and admiration in the mystery yeller's voice was clear, and a chorus of shouts and yells followed, until eventually everyone was clapping and cheering and calling out fond farewells to my father. From my position at the side of the stage, still behind the curtains, I could see tears glinting in his eyes in the stage lights. This had to be a very powerful and emotional moment for him.

  “Thank you, friends, thank you,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I appreciate your words of farewell, I really do. Now comes the time to hand over the reins, to pass the torch. And I am passing it on to my son—Kyle Williams!”

  That was my cue. I strode out onto the stage, walking with as much confidence as I could muster, and gave my dad a hug. Everyone cheered and applauded, which was a confidence boost. I shook my dad's hand.

  The emcee then announced, “Let's give our new CEO a hand!”

  Another round of applause rocked the hall. I looked out over the sea of faces, over all the smiles, and suddenly I felt a lot more positive about this. But even so, the doubts remained. And the plans I had remained at the back of my mind.

  As I scanned the faces in the hall, one almost had me tripping over with shock. It was her! The woman I'd slept with the night before last! Meredith. What the hell was she doing here? Her eyes caught mine, and I met a look of immense shock and surprise on her pretty face that was no doubt echoed on mine.

  I looked away from her, feeling the heat of a deep blush warming my cheeks. I had to focus, and now was definitely not the time to panic.

  “Before I give the stage over to Kyle,” said the emcee, “we have an announcement to make. We'd like to welcome to the company our new marketing director. Meredith Benson, could you please stand up? Ladies and gentlemen, please give Meredith a warm welcome! Put your hands together!”

  She stood. Her cheeks flushed, and everyone applauded.

  Our new marketing director—the woman who’d kicked me out of her apartment yesterday.

  Perfect. Just perfect.

  Chapter 7

  Meredith

  During the applause, all I could think about was shopping for my outfit with Ella, and how we had laughed about me being dressed for success.

  “I think the stars are aligning for you,” said Ella. “I mean, you just walked into that amazing job, and now we set aside the whole afternoon to find the right suit for you, yet this one, the third one that you try on in the very first store we walk into, it's like it was tailor made just for you!”

  I’d smiled at her. “Well, let's keep our fingers crossed that things keep going my way.”

  Things were not going my way right now—not at all. People continued to clap and cheer for me. When I’d seen Kyle walk onto the stage, I hadn’t believed it. I’d wanted to crawl under the table, to melt into my chair. It felt as if everyone around me was in on my little secret, our little secret, and that they would all be laughing soon enough when that secret was made public. I couldn't believe this. I was mortified, utterly mortified!

  I felt like throwing up.

  But then, another part of me, felt an altogether different sensation. It was impossible not to feel at least some attraction toward this man, and he looked mighty good in his designer suit. And for whatever reason, at this moment my attraction toward him surged.

  At the same time, though, the feeling of dread and awkwardness and embarrassment was utterly overwhelming, and it soon managed to quash any thoughts of attraction. I looked up, and Kyle's eyes caught mine. A look of absolute shock paled his expression as he recognized me, and I saw his eyebrows rise with surprise. He looked away quickly though and seemed to regain his composure.

  The applause continued, and the emcee said, “That's right Meredith, stand up, don't be shy!”

  Oh, this was great. I couldn't do anything but stand up, do as the man said, and pray that people didn't notice the intense crimson blush spreading its awful heat across the entirety of my face.

  I stood up, and everyone applauded, w
hich made me feel even more awkward. Ugh. This really did seem to be going from bad to worse.

  I sat down hurriedly, and then Kyle stepped up to the podium and began to speak.

  Well, at least now I knew why things had seemed so weirdly familiar when I had met Ronald the previous day. He was this guy's freakin' dad!

  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” said Kyle.

  Oh, boy, it was so weird hearing that voice again – that voice that had whispered hot, dirty desires into my ear two nights ago.

  No, no, no! It was definitely not the right time to think about that right now!

  “It is a huge honor and a privilege to be taking over from my father,” he said.

  Hmm, I don't think that's exactly how you put it when you told me all those secrets the other night, Kyle.

  “And I aim to grow this company, to take it from strength to strength, and to take it to new heights!”

  Everyone applauded enthusiastically but all I could think about right now was how he had told me he was planning to sell a sizable portion of it off to investors, and how he was thinking of letting a bunch of people go.

  “Together, we're going to take this company forward,” he claimed. “Each and every one of you is a valuable part of this company, and every one of you is going to have an important part to play as we enter a new phase of business.”

  I wondered if these people realized that the 'part to play' he was talking about included losing their jobs. He went on talking, and while his tone came across as sincere, all I could think about were the secrets he had told me when he was drunk.

  Eventually, his speech finished and everyone cheered and applauded wildly. I simply clapped along unenthusiastically, wearing a fake smile all the while.

  A few more people spoke, and then it was time for a break.

  “Come on, let's get up and mingle,” Phil suggested.

  We got up and wandered around. Waiters and waitresses circled the room with trays of hors d'oeuvres and drinks. I definitely needed a drink after this huge shock to the system, so I told Phil I'd find him later, and then made a beeline for the nearest waiter who had drinks.