The Con Artist: (Formally Published as Playing The Millionaire)

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The Con Artist: (Formally Published as Playing The Millionaire) Page 2

by Lynn, Sandi


  When I wasn’t in a relationship, which I found I was better off not being in one, I’d have a lot of sex with different women. One-night stands mainly. Women I met at business conferences, bars, restaurants, business trips. All casual, no strings, and absolutely perfect. I got my needs fulfilled without all the bullshit drama. I made a vow that once I got rid of Greta and she was out of my life, I would stay single for a long time. Even if the right woman appeared right in front of me, it didn’t matter. I was tired of all the harping. It exhausted me and work did that enough. Running a multi-billion-dollar hotel and resort chain wasn’t easy. There was too much competition out there and I needed to keep on top of my game if I wanted to remain the best.

  I was the CEO of Quinn Hotels. Our chain was right up there with Four Seasons, Ritz Carlton, and Mandarin Oriental. Last year, Forbes placed Quinn Hotels, also known as “Q,” number four on their list of the ten best hotels chains in the world. I inherited the company when my father passed away a couple of years ago. He inherited it from his father, my grandfather, who started the luxurious hotel chain back in 1929 and quickly became a huge competitor for Hilton Hotels.

  My work was my life and the women I dated needed to understand that. Greta swore she did. Which I believed for the first month of our relationship. Then the arguing started and all the crying. That woman cried a river more than anyone I’d ever known. She stressed me out more than she made me happy. Why didn’t I dump her sooner? I had a lot going on in my life and having to break up with her seemed to be more trouble than what it was worth at the time. Piss poor excuse, I know. But I was in the middle of opening a new hotel. We ran into loads of problems and I didn’t want to deal with her.

  Chapter 3

  Kate

  The bumpiness of the plane landing jolted me out of my seat.

  “What the hell? Doesn’t this pilot know how to land a plane?”

  Gabriel chuckled. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Says you. You weren’t in the middle of a dream on the beach, soaking up the sun and being served fruity drinks with cute little umbrellas by an incredibly sexy guy.”

  “No. I wasn’t. And I’d be overly concerned if I was.” He smirked.

  His smirk made me tighten my legs. I didn’t mention that the incredibly sexy guy serving me drinks on the beach was him. I’d just met him, and he was already invading my dreams. My eyes couldn’t stop diverting themselves to his shiny watch. The plane finally came to a stop and the captain spoke over the speaker.

  “There will be a thirty-minute delay in retrieving your luggage from baggage claim. It appears that some of the carousels are not working at the moment and there’s a backup of luggage from other flights that will be put through first.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I sighed as I stood up from my seat.

  “Do you have somewhere to be?” Gabriel asked.

  “Of course. Don’t you?” I cocked my head at him as we exited the plane.

  “Yes, but it’s only thirty minutes,” he replied. “How about we get a drink while we wait?”

  “I think a drink would be fine since I’m not going anywhere any time soon.” I smiled.

  I needed that watch.

  We entered the Delta Sky Lounge, ordered our drinks, and took a seat on a bright red couch. When Gabriel removed his glasses, I felt the air in my lungs constrict. A rich chocolate brown. Seductive. The kind of eyes that could burn a hole through your very soul.

  “So, what do you do in the corporate world?” I asked.

  “A lot of shit that makes my head go crazy.” He grinned. “Where is your store located?”

  “Cyber World.”

  “Ah, you’re an online retailer?” His brow arched.

  “Yes.” I smiled.

  “What’s the name?” he asked.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Why not?”

  “So you can stalk me?” I gave him a sly smile.

  Our eyes were fixated on each other’s and the sexual chemistry between us was on fire. He wanted to fuck me as badly as I wanted his watch.

  “I wouldn’t stalk you. I’m just curious.” He brought his hand up to my cheek.

  “I’m sure you have someone waiting at home for you,” I spoke.

  “I don’t.”

  “Someone as sexy as you is single?”

  “Yes.” His hand ran down my cheek.

  I gulped at the fierce vibrating down below.

  “How about you?” he asked as he placed his hand between my legs.

  “No. I don’t have anyone.”

  “Someone as beautiful as you is single?”

  “That’s right.” I smiled.

  He took his thumb and ran it across my lips. As a reaction, I took it in my mouth.

  “Fuck, Hannah. I think we need to go into the bathroom.”

  “Lead the way.” I smiled.

  He grabbed hold of my hand and led me down the small hallway where the bathroom was. As soon as we were both inside, he shut the door and locked it. Suddenly, his hands grabbed the sides of my face and his mouth smashed into mine without warning. I stumbled back as he held on to me with one arm wrapped around my waist. Our lips tangled and our tongues greeted each other. This was what you called an unexpected heated moment. Sliding his suitcoat off his shoulders, I quickly unbuttoned his crisp white shirt as his hands slid off my cardigan and then dipped down the front of my shirt, groping my breasts as subtle moans escaped him. He broke our kiss and took down his pants. Thank god he was so blessed in the goods department. Thick, long, hard, and beautiful. I was going to have an orgasm just looking at it.

  “Like what you see?” He smirked.

  “Definitely.” I licked my lips.

  He placed his hands on my hips and turned me around before pulling down my pants and pressing his hard cock against me.

  “I want you to watch me fuck you in the mirror,” he seductively spoke as he dipped his finger inside me.

  I threw my head back in desire as he explored my insides.

  “You’re so wet. Are you ready for me?” he asked as he ripped a condom package open and rolled it over his cock.

  “Yes,” I spoke breathlessly as my body prepared itself for his entrance.

  He thrust inside me. Hard. Deep. The feel of him was intoxicating and I was getting drunk with each stroke. His grip on my hips tightened as he pounded into me, making me voice the pleasure I felt. I looked at him through the mirror and our eyes met.

  “Don’t look away when you come,” he spoke.

  My body was pushed to the limits and the minute he reached his hand over and placed it on top of my clit, an orgasm rushed through me.

  “That’s it. God, that’s it,” he panted.

  One last hard thrust and he halted while deep moans escaped him as he came.

  I reached my hand around and placed it on the back of his head as his lips pressed against my shoulder. He pulled out, removed the condom, and tossed it in the trashcan. He bent down, pulled up my pants, and then groped my breasts one last time. I picked up my cardigan, slipped it on, and took hold of his wrist before he put on his suitcoat. He looked at me as I brought my other hand up to his cheek.

  “Thank you.” I smiled as my lips tenderly met his.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I let go of his wrist and slipped his watch into the pocket of my cardigan. Now I needed to make a quick exit before he noticed it was gone. We walked out of the bathroom together and out of the lounge.

  “It was nice to meet you, Gabriel.” I smiled as I walked the opposite way.

  “Baggage claim is this way?” He pointed.

  “I have a quick phone call to make first. Thanks again.” I bit down on my bottom lip.

  “The pleasure was all mine, Hannah.” He winked.

  I knew JFK like the back of my hand since I traveled so much and went another way to get to baggage claim. When I got there, I hid around the corner and waited for him to retrieve his luggage. Once he did
and began to walk away, I swallowed hard as I silently whispered, “Goodbye, Gabriel.” After he walked out the door of the airport, I grabbed my bags and headed the opposite way, where I hailed a cab and went home.

  Chapter 4

  Gabriel

  My bag was coming around the carousel when I arrived. I felt a little off by what had happened, and I didn’t want to walk away. She was incredible and I needed to know more about her. But she did say she was only in New York for a couple of days. It was time I put Hannah out of my mind because I’d never see her again.

  “Good evening, Carl,” I spoke as I climbed into the back of my limo.

  “Good evening, sir. How was Seattle?”

  “Rainy.” I smiled. “But productive.”

  “Home, sir?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  I turned my wrist to look at the time on my watch and it wasn’t there.

  “What the hell?” I loudly spoke.

  “Is something wrong, Mr. Quinn?”

  I never took my watch off. I distinctly remembered it being on my wrist while I was fucking her.

  “That bitch stole my watch!”

  “Excuse me, sir?” Carl spoke.

  “Nothing.” I climbed out of the car. “I’ll be right back. I have to look for someone.”

  I raced back to baggage claim and looked around for Hannah. Looking at the carousel where our luggage had come from, it was empty. I stepped outside and looked around. Nothing. She wasn’t anywhere to be found. I climbed back in the limo and told Carl to take me home.

  I was enraged. A thirty-thousand-dollar watch gone. Taken by a woman I met on an airplane and fucked in the sky lounge at JFK airport. How stupid could I be? Fuck! I pulled my ringing phone from pocket and saw it was Greta calling. What the hell did she want? I wasn’t in any mood to deal with her, so I sent her to voicemail.

  Carl pulled up to my building at 178 East 94th Street, a townhome I had purchased three years ago when it went into foreclosure. My family and friends were shocked when I purchased it because they always believed I was a high-rise penthouse type of man. The thing I liked most was the homey feel it had. It was a place I felt would be right to have a family someday in the distant future. Or at least that was what I saw three years ago. Since then, my views on family and marriage had drastically changed thanks to the crazy women I’d dated.

  As soon as I stepped through the front door, Grace, my housekeeper, greeted me.

  “Welcome home, Gabriel,” she spoke as she took my suitcase from me.

  “Thanks, Grace. How’s everything going?”

  “Well, your ex-girlfriend stopped by earlier and cried her eyes out to me, mumbling something about what an asshole you are and how you broke up with her over the phone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. The only thing I heard was you breaking up with her.” She smiled. “Don’t get me wrong; she was an okay girl, but she sure whined and cried a lot.”

  “I know.” I sighed.

  “I’m going to take your suitcase upstairs and then head home. There’s dinner warming in the oven if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks, Grace. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I took the bottle of bourbon and a glass and went up and took a seat on the terrace. Pulling out my phone, I called my little brother, Caleb.

  “Hey, big brother, how was Seattle?” he answered.

  “It was good. What are you doing?”

  “Packing. I leave for Los Angeles tomorrow.”

  “Ah. That’s right. Do you have time to stop by for a drink?”

  “Sure. Give me about an hour and I’ll be over.”

  “Sounds good. I can send Carl to pick you up,” I spoke by mistake.

  “Really, Gabriel?”

  “Sorry. I’ll see you in about an hour. I’m up on the terrace.”

  Caleb Quinn, my twenty-four-year-old determined-to-be-a-rock-star brother was against anything money. I guess you could say he had always been the black sheep of the family, at least in my father’s eyes. He hated wealth and wanted nothing to do with the upper-class society, including our father’s company. I was all business adventures while he was all about the music. He had music in his soul, and it showed every time he picked up his guitar. Our father was a tough man with a dream of both his sons running the family company, and when my brother graduated high school and threw away a college opportunity to pursue music, my father practically disowned him, calling him a disgrace to the Quinn name. I didn’t care what Caleb did or didn’t do, he was my brother and I loved him.

  “Hey, bro,” Caleb spoke as he leaned down and gave me a light hug before taking a seat across from me.

  “Hey, Caleb. Drink?” I asked.

  “You got any beer up here?”

  I chuckled. “Only for you.”

  I stood up from the couch and walked over to the minibar that sat on the terrace and grabbed him a beer.

  “What time is your flight tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Eight a.m. Where’s Greta? I figured she would have been here since you just got home.”

  I sighed. “I broke things off with her.”

  “Wow. When?”

  “A couple of days ago.”

  “While you were in Seattle?” He laughed.

  “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “Yeah. I get that. She was a whiner and very insecure. I never understood what you saw in her.” He held up his bottle of beer. “Here’s to both the Quinn brothers being single again.” He smiled.

  “Touché.” I lightly tapped my glass against his bottle.

  I was embarrassed by what happened at the airport and I debated whether or not to tell Caleb until he noticed I wasn’t wearing my watch.

  “Where’s your watch? You never take it off.”

  I took in a deep, relentless breath.

  “You’re never going to believe what happened.”

  “Don’t tell me you lost it.” He kicked back his beer.

  “It was stolen.”

  “Stolen? The maid at the hotel?” He cocked his head.

  “No. By a woman who I met on the plane home and fucked in the bathroom in the sky lounge at JFK.”

  A roar of laughter came from him.

  “Shut the fuck up!” He continued laughing. “You left it on the sink and then she took it, right?”

  “No. She took it right off my wrist, and I didn’t know it until I got in the car to come home,” I spoke with irritation.

  “Jesus Christ, Gabriel. How did you let that happen?” He continued to laugh. “I mean, come on, bro, she just slipped it right off your wrist without you knowing?”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn, she must have been one hell of a fuck for you to space out like that. Just call her up and ask her for it back.”

  “I would, but I don’t have her number.”

  “Ah.” He finished off his beer. “Did you at least get her name?”

  “Hannah, and that’s all I know about her except that she runs some women’s online retail shop. She doesn’t even live in New York. She said she’s only here for a couple of days visiting a friend.”

  He tipped his empty beer bottle towards me. “You, big brother, got ripped off by a chick who’s sitting pretty with a thirty-thousand-dollar Cartier watch.”

  “Do me a favor and don’t say a word about this to anyone. This little mishap stays between us.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m way too embarrassed for you to talk about it.” He grinned. “Thanks for the beer.” He stood up. “I better get going. I have a few things to wrap up before me and the band head to L.A. tomorrow.”

  I pulled a few hundred-dollar bills out of my wallet and placed them in Caleb’s hand.

  “Gabriel, I don’t—”

  “I don’t care if you don’t need it. Just take it. Please. I’ve been through enough today and you turning it down will make me feel worse.”

 
He let out a heavy sigh.

  “Thanks,” he spoke as he hugged me.

  “You’re welcome. Good luck with Sony Records tomorrow. I know you’ll nail a contract.” I smiled.

  “I hope so. I’ll call you when I get back.” He flicked his finger under my chin. “Cheer up, buttercup. The bright side is you can afford to go out tomorrow and buy another one.”

  I gave him a small smile, and as he was leaving the terrace, he turned and looked at me.

  “I know it’s not actually about the watch, bro.”

  I picked up the bottle of bourbon and poured one last glass for the night. As I stood and looked out at the East River in the midst of the brightly lit city, I knew he was right. It wasn’t so much about the watch as it was about the woman who stole it from me.

  Chapter 5

  Kate

  When the cab pulled up to 16 East 84th Street, I got out and stared at the five-story brick building. It felt good to be home.

  “Here’s your luggage, ma’am,” the cab driver spoke.

  “Thank you.” I smiled as I reached into my purse and paid him along with a generous tip.

  I rolled my suitcase behind me as I climbed on the elevator and took it up to my apartment on the fifth floor. Inserting the key into the lock, I pushed open the door and turned on the light switch in the hallway. Brown boxes were scattered all over the floor waiting to be unpacked. I had only been in my new place for three nights before I left for Seattle.

  I moved from Chicago to Manhattan to be closer to my dad. When I was a little girl, we moved around a lot, never staying in one place more than six months to less than a year at a time. I never had any friends because we never stuck around long enough for me to make any connections with anyone. When I was eighteen, we moved to Chicago. My dad said that it could possibly be a permanent place for us, and if the job he was going to do in New York panned out, we could stay, and I could go to college. But he got involved with the wrong people and it ended up costing him twenty years at Rikers Island.

  I threw my carry-on bag on the bed and started unpacking it. Pulling Gabriel’s watch from the pocket of my cardigan, I held it in my hand and thought of him. A feeling swept over me and thoughts about our encounter in the bathroom sent shivers down my spine. In fact, it wasn’t just thoughts about what happened, it was thoughts about him in general. Shaking my head, I snapped back into reality and finished unpacking my luggage. I couldn’t think about him. I didn’t want to think about him. I had other things to do. Business. It was now always about the business. I had six rules I lived by.

 

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