Hard Copy: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance (Tech Titans Book 3)

by Marcella Swann

  I couldn’t really answer his question. I had an uneasy feeling that couldn’t be explained. Deciding that it was just because his personality was grating, I straightened in my chair and put on a professional smile

  “No problem at all. I’ll email her now.”

  “Mr. Stallworth?” Geri called my name out tentatively as she opened my office door. Keith had left hours ago and I had been alone at my desk ever since.

  “Come on in, Geri,” I replied. She took a seat in the chair across from me and tapped her foot nervously. I waited a moment for her speak. When she didn’t I stood and walked around the desk, leaning against the front of it. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to ask you...uh, you know what? Nevermind,” she said, not making eye contact. She made an attempt to stand and leave. I placed my hand on her shoulder and applied gentle pressure until she lowered herself back into the seat.

  “What’s up?” I asked again. Geri had been my assistant for two years and I had never seen her act like this.

  “I need some time off.”

  “You have some vacation time saved up, I believe. Two weeks, if I remember correctly.”

  “I might need a little more than that.” Her voice trembled. “You see, my boyfriend got hurt at work. It’s his back, and they’re not sure if he’ll ever-” she broke off, letting out a sob.

  I looked around frantically. Damn it, why didn’t I keep tissues in here?

  Geri buried her face in her hands. Desperate, I took my suit jacket off and knelt in front of her. Pulling her hands away from her face, I wiped her eyes with the sleeve of my jacket.

  “Oh, no. You don’t have to-”

  “Yes, I do,” I told her firmly. Putting the jacket in her lap. “You use that if you need it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling weakly through her tears.

  “Now, what’s going on?”

  “It’s Lee. He took a bad fall work.”

  “He works for a roofing company, right?”

  “Yes. It was a one story house, but he was hurt real bad,” a few more tears leaked out, but she continued. “They aren’t sure if he’ll walk again.”

  “You need some time to take care of him?”

  “Yeah. But the problem is, and I know it’s asking a lot, more than a lot, but I can’t afford to take unpaid time off. So, I was really hoping…”

  “You need more vacation?”

  “I know the company policy is two weeks a year, but maybe I could have next year’s now. And not get any next year?”

  I looked into her tear streaked face thoughtfully.

  “No, I’m afraid that won’t work.” Her chin quivered, so I hastened to add, “You’ll start with a paid month off, and we’ll see how Lee is after that. If you need more time, you’ll get it. It won’t count against any vacation time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. We’ll discuss your pay when you return to work. It occurs to me that you haven’t had a raise since you started.”

  Geri threw her arms around me, giving in to more tears. I patted her back and made a mental note to personally look into Lee’s treatment. I would make sure he had the best doctors. I couldn’t stand to see Geri in tears like this.

  Keith’s words from earlier today crossed my mind. Maybe I should make an effort to help more people, people like Geri.

  Chapter Seven: Hung Up

  “What the hell is that?” I asked loudly as Elliott sat a plastic cup on the desk in front of me, a bright green liquid inside.

  “It’s a green smoothie,” he exclaimed, seemingly thrilled with himself.

  I looked up at him and saw that he had one in his hand as well and was sipping the drink while watching me. Lifting the cup to my face, I took a sniff of the concoction. My nose wrinkled at the smell.

  “What’s in this?”

  “Pineapple, passion fruit, apple, orange juice, and spinach.”

  “Uh-what was that last one?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Spinach,” he replied, a look of wide-eyed innocence on his face.

  “Spinach!? Oh my god, Elliott. Why is this thing on my desk?”

  “It’s good for you!”

  “But at what cost?”

  “Just drink it,” he said, jutting his chin out stubbornly.

  “Please tell me you didn’t make this for me,” I said, eyeing the cup once again.

  “No, it’s part of the new healthy smoothie menu at the coffee shop.”

  “You went to the coffee shop and brought me back this instead of my frozen triple chocolate mocha?”

  “Do you know how much refined sugar they put in that? It’s so bad for you. Besides, you don’t need coffee, I have chia seeds to sprinkle on top of the smoothie.”

  “Chia seeds?”

  “Yeah. They boost energy.”

  “Are you talking about the stuff I use to grow Bob Ross’ hair?”

  “What?”

  I reached behind myself and grabbed the terra cotta pot I had there that was shaped like Bob Ross’ head. There was a magnificent mane of green “hair” sprouting out of the top. I plopped it down on my desk next to the smoothie I would never drink and grinned up at Elliott.

  “A Chia Pet? Has that always been there?” he asked.

  “Since my birthday two months ago. Gigi got it for me. I can’t believe you never noticed it!”

  “Look at all the crazy stuff you have around here. I can’t keep track of it all. Between that Mount Rushmore thing,” he pointed up at my Three Stooges wall hanging. Then gestured to my desk, “and these little troll figurines on everyone’s desks. What’s the deal with those anyway?”

  “Treasure Trolls are good luck,” I said, picking up the one on the corner of my desk. I had brought them in a month ago and placed them on every desk in the office. Mine had furry red hair that stuck straight up in the air. “These things are vintage. I’ve had them since I was a little kid. You know, they were huge in the 90’s. When I was in first grade, everyone used to line them up along the front of their desks. It was prestigious.”

  “Okay, then. Well, thanks for the luck, I guess.” Elliott glanced at the clock on the wall behind me. “Your meeting with the head of the Arts and Culture Foundation is in ten minutes.”

  “Gotcha,” I said, carefully returning Bob to his shelf and holding the smoothie out to Elliott. “Find out if he wants anything from the coffee shop and you can grab it for him when you go back for my mocha.”

  “It wouldn’t kill you to try something new, ya know,” he grumbled, taking the cup from my outstretched hand.

  “You don’t know that. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “I’m not getting extra chocolate,” he said as he walked away. I just shook my head with a smile, knowing he was bluffing.

  “And see if Gigi wants anything!” I called after him. He turned back around and bowed down low while continuing to walk backwards.

  “Your wish is my command,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. I just laughed.

  Half an hour later, I was sitting in the boardroom with Keith Lowry, the founder of the Arts and Culture Foundation and former schoolmate of J.D., who had set up this meeting. We had already discussed the specifics of So Good’s relationship with nonprofit organizations. Our mission and values statements were laid out for him to see and the commitment we had to social causes seemed to impress him. He had easily agreed to work with us.

  Keith was signing some paperwork when there was a knock on the boardroom door. I called out, “Come in,” and Elliott pushed the door open. My eyes zeroed in on the large frozen coffee in his hand. It was piled high with whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate syrup. I was suddenly very thirsty.

  “Now that’s more like it,” I said happily, gladly taking the drink from his hand. Keith shot me an amused grin before turning to Elliott and grabbing his own coffee. I could see steam coming out of the little slit in the top of the lid.

  “Thanks, man,” He said to Elliott with a
n easy smile.

  “No problem,” Elliott replied. He turned to me, “Happy now?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said as I took my first sip and chocolatey goodness filled my mouth. “That’s the stuff.”

  “Well, I’m not dealing with your mid-afternoon sugar crash,” he said, earning a chuckle from Keith.

  “You stay out of this,” I said, shooting Keith a mock glare. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he chuckled once again.

  “I wouldn’t dream of getting in the middle of it,” he said, holding his hands up in front of himself. That relaxed smile never seemed to leave his face.

  “I’m leaving anyway,” Elliott said, “Gigi said you guys are taking the rest of the day off and to go home.”

  This was news to me, but I didn’t object. It was just after noon and this meeting with Keith was the last thing on my schedule for the day.

  “Okay. Thanks, El,” I replied. He left Keith and I alone again.

  “Are you guys siblings?” Keith asked curiously.

  “No. Why?”

  “You just bicker like brother and sister,” he said shrugging.

  “I can’t deny that,” I said, taking another big sip of my coffee. “So, how did you get involved in this foundation? Are you an artist?”

  “I wish. I’ve always liked the idea of being that creative, but I lack the talent.” He flexed his fingers, “I don’t have an artist’s hands, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I find an artist’s gift tends to be in their hands. It requires a certain amount of grace,” he leaned forward until he was much closer to me. “Like you. You have an artist’s hands. They’re agile, almost elegant.”

  He gestured to my hands and I had the feeling that he wanted to touch them but was waiting for a sign from me. I was shocked at how quickly he had turned on the charm. What surprised me even more was my lack of response to it.

  “You think so?” I asked. There was a slightly flirtatious tone in my voice, but I didn’t really feel it.

  I studied Keith’s face. He was handsome enough. Short brown hair and hazel eyes were made even more appealing by the dimples from his ever-present smile. Perfectly straight, white teeth shone behind full lips. I also couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing an expensive suit over a seemingly toned body. Overall, he was a good-looking man.

  Yet, I felt no heat. The spark, which I was hoping to sense, was stubbornly refusing to appear. Something held me back, and I knew what it was.

  Damn it, why couldn’t I move past J.D.?

  “Yeah, I do,” he said, apparently realizing I wasn’t going to initiate contact with him because he leaned back in his seat. “And I actually founded the Arts and Culture Foundation myself. I wanted to do something good with my family’s money.”

  That statement was made with a bit of arrogance. I supposed it was well-earned though. The man was a social entrepreneur.

  “That’s really great.” I said lamely. I was suddenly ready for the meeting to end. Keith was a perfectly nice guy, but my lack of interest had brought an awkwardness to the air.

  He seemed to sense it too, because he stood up and collected his copies of the agreement he had signed. “I better take my leave,” he said, holding his hand out to me.

  “Okay. Thanks for coming in. I look forward to working with you.” I grasped his warm hand and met his eyes. Still no reaction from my body.

  “It was lovely meeting you,” he said, slightly squeezing my hand and holding on for a moment longer than necessary. Then he was gone.

  I left the board room and ran into Gigi. Literally. The papers in my hands went flying and I shot my hands out to steady her as she teetered on her heels.

  “Woah. You okay?”

  “Yeah. I saw that guy leave. Is he going to be working with us?”

  “Yep,” I said, popping the “p.” I bent down and began scooping up the paperwork that had scattered all over the floor, even crawling along to reach a paper that had fluttered under Elliott’s desk.

  “Great. Let’s go to lunch and you can tell me about it.”

  I quickly agreed. Maybe Gigi could help me figure out why I was so hung up on J.D. Talking to my best friend was just what I needed.

  Chapter Eight: Lunch

  I was in my office, minding my own business, when Hayden walked in through the previously closed door.

  “Please, come on in,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Hayden smiled and clapped his hands briskly, ignoring my attitude. “It’s damn near one o’clock. Let’s go to lunch.”

  “Did we have plans?”

  “We do now. Come on,” he gestured toward the door impatiently.

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “I’m starving to death,” Hayden exclaimed, clutching his stomach dramatically. “Please J.D., come eat lunch with me before I waste away to nothing,” he begged melodramatically.

  Shaking my head at his antics, I grabbed my suit jacket from the back of my chair and shrugged it on. “Okay, drama queen. Let’s grab a bite.”

  “Sweet,” Hayden said, shooting out the door ahead of me. I met him at the elevator and we rode down in silence. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and I frowned. Why was he so rushed? Deciding to just go with it, I didn’t question him as we exited the building.

  “We’ll take my car. You want Chinese?” I asked, knowing it was his favorite.

  “No, let’s go to Charlie’s.” I nodded and fired up the car, heading to the diner down the street.

  “Who are you texting?” I asked curiously as I noticed Hayden was glued to his cell phone during the drive.

  “No one,” he said quickly. He was a terrible liar, but I didn’t push it. Something was going on with him.

  Charlie’s was a small place with red booths, a counter lined with cushioned bar stools, and black and white tiled floors. It had a retro vibe that made me feel like I was stepping into the 1950’s. There was even a repurposed old jukebox in the corner. It had the authentic look on the outside, but the technology inside the machine was designed by SXz. Customers with an SXz account could use their phones to connect and stream select songs through the diner’s sound system for a small fee.

  It was a relatively new tech for us, but it was incredibly popular. Dozens of local bars and restaurants in Silicon Valley had implemented the new sound system and we were trying to land a national chain.

  Walking into the restaurant, I saw that it was busy, but not jammed packed. There were waitresses walking around carrying large trays laden with food for the booths and the counter was lined with people drinking thick milkshakes. The sun shone brightly through the windows and made the interior of the diner feel cheerful.

  “Hey guys!” a familiar voice called from the right and I saw Gigi and Judy sitting across from one another in a booth next to the window. Judy was waving us over happily.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” I said as we approached, eyeing Hayden suspiciously. He wouldn’t meet my eye.

  “You should join us, it’s busy in here,” Gigi said.

  “There’s still plenty of seating,” I replied. Gigi looked pointedly at Hayden and I narrowed my eyes. What were these two up to?

  “They could get a late lunch rush any minute,” Hayden interjected, grabbing my elbow and practically forcing me into the booth next Judy. I stumbled slightly and landed gracelessly beside her. She laughed at me and scooted over so I’d have more room. Hayden slid in next to Gigi.

  “We just got here, too,” Judy said, opening her menu.

  “What a coincidence!” Hayden said a little too enthusiastically. He made no move to pick up his own menu.

  “Yes, it’s almost as if it was planned,” I said wryly.

  “Yeah, like it was fate,” Gigi added. She and Hayden were both staring at Judy and I with obviously expectant looks on their faces. This was pathetic.

  “Look guys,” I started, “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish
by-”

  “Uh-oh, I feel sick,” Hayden interrupted. Judy looked up from her menu with a frown.

  “What’s wrong.?” She asked. She hadn’t seemed to notice the scheming that was clearly going on.

  “I’m so nauseous all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat lunch,” he grimaced. I narrowed my eyes.

  “I thought you were hungry?” I asked.

  “Well, I was. But now I’m sick. That happens sometimes,” he explained nonchalantly.

  “You know what I bet it is? It must be that sympathetic pregnancy thing. You know, because of Sabine,” Gigi said, her eyes lighting up. “You have pregnancy symptoms!” her voice was loud as she said this and a couple of old men at a nearby table stopped talking to stare at Hayden. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

  “Uh, yeah. That must be it,” he agreed.

  “I’ve heard of that,” Judy said, “Watch out, you might even gain weight.”

  Hayden looked down his own body, as if trying to see if he had suddenly put on a few pounds.

  “Do you need to leave?” Gigi asked him, her eyes darting to Judy and myself briefly. I had the feeling she was trying to communicate with Hayden without using words.

  “Yep, I better go back to the office.” He started to stand, and Gigi followed.

  “Okay, do you want us to give you a ride?” Judy asked, closing her menu and indicating that I should let her out of the booth. I started to stand as well.

  “No!” Gigi practically shouted. Her arms flapped around, gesturing to me to sit back down. “You guys just stay and have lunch. I’ll take him back.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “I’m the one that works with him. Why should you go out of your way?” I had a good idea what they were up to, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for either of them.

  “It’s not a problem. I can pop in to visit Damian. You and Judy are hungry. You should stay and eat.”

  “I didn’t say I was hungry,” Judy interjected. Gigi nudged Hayden with her elbow. Did they think we couldn’t see that?