Mad about the Banker

by Piper Rayne

“Don’t,” Jacob warns when I reach for the phone.

  Damn it. My brother knows me well.

  “Megan, just give me a few minutes,” he whispers.

  I stand, pretending like I’m getting ready to go. I look from the two secret lovers to the phone. Jacob has his back to me now, his hands on her arms. Seems there’s trouble in paradise.

  I press the home button on the phone and the phone lights up, displaying a few texts he’s gotten this morning. Boy, Megan sure has been busy on her phone this morning. Jasper is the text at the top and I slide the phone closer to me to catch the words Richmond’s at eight tonight. Well, that was easy.

  Jacob swipes the phone and tucks it into his pocket. “You’re not getting his phone number,” he says, his blue eyes that match my own piercing into mine.

  I roll my eyes. “Just making sure you didn’t miss any important phone calls.” I turn my head to find Megan’s no longer here. “Screwing the help, Jacob?” I shake my head. “I had higher expectations of you.”

  “Don’t you have a dildo to sell?” he says and I pick up my purse.

  “I think I’ll go hit Megan up. See if she’s in the market.” My footsteps move away from his desk and he follows me, probably making sure I actually leave.

  “Don’t you worry about her, she’s more than satisfied.” He smiles and I’m surprised he didn’t grab his junk in his hands.

  “From what I remember…” I don’t actually say anything but scrunch up my nose and shake my head while I raise just my pinkie finger.

  “We were five the last time you saw my dick,” he says, reaching past me to open the door. “Bye, sis.”

  “Let’s get together tonight. I can get to know Megan better?” I ask.

  His unamused eyes linger on mine again. Seriously, Megan needs to do her job better because it’s obvious that my brother needs to get his rocks off. He’s way too uptight.

  “I’m taking Megan out for her birthday. Just the two of us.”

  “Where?” I ask, acting the part of the caring sister. I push aside the guilt I feel at knowing I just want to be able to pinpoint his whereabouts this evening.

  “It’s private. Listen, I’m bringing her to Dad’s retirement party. Run interference, will you?” He changes the direction of conversation, but I know my brother wouldn’t take a girl he’s interested in to a bar, which means I can accidentally meet Jasper tonight without worrying about running into him.

  “Sure thing, little brother.” I squeeze his cheek and he groans. “See you.”

  He shuts the door and I start walking. My phone dings before I’m even through the doors of the bank.

  Jacob: Love you. I’ll look into another option.

  I smile.

  Me: Love you. No problem, I think I might have a lead.

  A cynical laugh escapes from my throat and my phone dings again.

  Jacob: In the last minute?

  Me: See you next week.

  Jacob: Lennon.

  I laugh again because he knows me too well. Climbing into my unicorn van, I turn up Eminem and pull away from the curb.

  Tonight, I’ll finally meet one Mr. Jasper Banks and he’s going to be the one to solve all my problems.

  4

  “I need a nice pant suit. One that screams serious, conservative, but a little sexy, too.” I push past Tahlia and into her condo.

  Lucas looks up from the television.

  “Hey, don’t mind me, just grabbing something. The Cincinnati bowtie can commence in ten minutes.” I wave to Lucas.

  “I don’t even want to know what that is,” Tahl says behind me.

  “Where’s my toy?” he asks and I dig into my purse, tossing it to him.

  He examines the packaging with a huge smile on his face then throws it back to Tahlia. “Put it on, baby.” His smile could compete with a kid’s on Christmas morning. He pulls his phone out while we leave the room.

  I walk into Tahlia’s bedroom and she rolls her eyes at me. Tossing it on the mattress, she moves to her closet, stepping in.

  She and Lucas moved in together last month and with his income, they can afford more, which means she finally has a walk-in closet. Lucas’ suits line the left side and her dresses and blouses the right. Every high-priced high heel is perched on shelves in the back next to Lucas’s mismatch of sneakers and loafers.

  “Must drive you crazy.”

  She follows my line of vision to the shoes. “We fight about two things. Family dinners at my parents’ house and that.” She points and her face scrunches up as though it smells like a garbage truck in New York City on a hot summer day.

  “He doesn’t like the fam, huh?” I ask, my hands digging through her clothes.

  “No, he does. He doesn’t mind going. It’s me. He’s found some common bond with my dad and it’s so annoying.” She huffs and pulls out a black silk suit.

  Now I’m the one scrunching up my nose. She hangs it back up. “That’s awesome that they get along, Tahl.”

  I truly am happy that everything turned out so great for her, and yet that twinge of jealousy unexpectedly stabs me in the chest again.

  What the hell? I’m happy, too. I don’t even want what she has.

  She shrugs. “So, what’s this for?”

  I sit down on her closet floor. Yes, it’s that big.

  “I’m meeting with an investor tonight, but it’s at a bar.”

  Her eyes narrow and she pulls a light pink suit out, pairing it with a navy blouse.

  I shake my head again and she huffs and hangs it back up.

  “A bar? Are they legit?” She rifles through her clothes some more.

  “Oh, he’s legit. He just doesn’t know I’m coming.”

  Her eyes shoot to mine. A look of worry crosses over her face.

  “Relax. It’s fine.” I hop up and start rooting through her clothing. She leans against their built-in dresser in the middle of the closet.

  “I don’t want you to be disappointed.” Her voice is soft and I should expect nothing less. She’s my best friend. “I was talking to Lucas—”

  “No, Tahl.” I raise my hand and squash the topic of any of my friends helping me.

  “Come on, Len. We’re friends and we want to help. Lucas has the money,” she pleads, but I won’t hear of it.

  I have faith in my ability and this company, but there are too many factors that could go wrong. If this fails, I refuse to let my friends take a hit in any way.

  “I appreciate it. I do, but no.” I pull out a Chanel pant suit. “Can I borrow this?”

  “Of course, anything.” She crosses her arms, clearly not understanding why I won’t take her boyfriend’s money.

  My shoulders deflate and I wait for her eyes to reach mine. “Listen, Tahl. I need to do this on my own.”

  She nods. “Okay.” She takes the pant suit from me, placing it on the dresser. Taking my hands, she squeezes. “Never be too proud to ask for help though, okay?”

  I nod this time and our conversation ends with an understanding that nothing will change. I’m not taking her or her boyfriend’s money.

  “Babe? Are you wearing it?” Lucas hollers from the other room and when we enter the living room, his finger is on the app screen.

  She playfully smacks him in the head and his shorter, now gelled hair doesn’t move. “We have a guest.”

  “Lennon’s not a guest,” he jokes and I sit down on the chair across from Lucas. He places his phone down.

  “Oh, I have the best necklace you should wear with that outfit.” Tahlia rushes back into her bedroom, leaving Lucas and I alone.

  Lucas sits up, resting his elbows on his knees, and glances back to their bedroom door. “So, Lennon. I’ve been thinking.”

  I place my hand up in the air. “Your girlfriend beat you to it.”

  His eyebrows scrunch and for the first time I notice how perfect they are. I wonder if he threads or waxes. Maybe he got laser hair removal?

  “I want to invest. I need to invest my mon
ey somewhere. Might as well be your company.”

  I appreciate my friends wanting to help me out, and it would be an easy to accept Lucas’s and Cole’s money, but no. I have my pride.

  “I’m meeting an investor tonight.” I hold up my crossed fingers. “Let’s hope he loves sex toys as much as you and Cole.”

  Lucas picks up his phone, presses the app and Tahlia comes out holding the vibrating toy in her hand.

  “Seriously, Lucas. Wait until Lennon leaves.” She tosses it on the table and I wonder if she’ll ever wear it for him. Although I’m fairly sure they have a kinky sex life behind closed doors. Tahl just likes to act like she can take it or leave it, but I can’t imagine there’s ever any headache nights with Lucas.

  He laughs and she comes over, handing me the necklace.

  “Who’s the whale?” Lucas asks, crossing his leg on his ankle and placing his free hand on Tahlia’s leg.

  “His name is Jasper Banks,” I say and Lucas’ eyes light up.

  “Seriously?” he asks. Tahlia and I both look at him, not understanding his reaction.

  “Yeah.” My voice sounds small. “Do you know him?”

  He nods and a smile crosses his lips. “I went to school with him. He was a year older than me, but we were in the same fraternity.”

  Damn it. I didn’t have to sneak behind my brother’s back. I had a connection to Jasper all along.

  “How perfect. Lennon, tell him you know Lucas.” Tahlia practically bounces in her chair.

  “You’ve already pitched?” Lucas asks.

  I bite my lip and shake my head.

  “Why are you meeting in a bar then?” he asks and I’m starting to feel a little foolish about my plan.

  “Um. He doesn’t know who I am, but he was my brother’s mentor. I saw a text he sent to my brother and I’m going to the bar hoping to corner him.”

  Lucas laughs again and though I’ve always loved how easy-going Lucas is, right now I want to sew his lips shut.

  “You know he’s a control freak, right? Not to mention a pompous ass? He’d shred you in front of a crowd of people without even blinking,” Lucas says.

  I slump back in my chair. “He’s a jerk?” I ask because I don’t know much about him other than the fact that he invests in companies others don’t. I mean, he got a kitchen gadget on the HSN and made the inventor a shit-ton of money.

  Lucas nods and Tahlia’s excitement dims significantly. Her eyes bore into mine, silently asking me to allow Lucas to give me the money.

  “Well, I can be a bitch and if he doesn’t like the idea and tries to embarrass me, he’ll have a challenge on his hands.” I stand up and drape the pant suit over my arm.

  “Be careful, Lennon,” Tahlia says, unwrapping herself from Lucas and walking me to the door.

  “Hold up.” Lucas stands and pats Tahlia’s ass to get her to slide out of the way. “Let me walk you to the elevator.”

  Lucas grabs the door and Tahlia leans in, giving me a hug.

  “Good luck. Not like you need it because you’re going to knock this Jasper guy off his ass when he sees you.” Her arms tighten right before she lets go. “Call me when you’re done.”

  “I will. Thanks for the pant suit and I’ll get it dry-cleaned.”

  She giggles and shakes her head. “No, you won’t, but it’s nice that you think you will.”

  I roll my eyes because she’s probably right.

  Lucas walks with me side by side to the elevators. I’m about to tell him I don’t need a babysitter, but when my hand moves to hit the button he stops me.

  “Lennon, I meant what I said about investing. If you’re worried about putting Tahl and I in a bind if the company fails, you don’t need to.” He looks pained, as though he doesn’t want to throw his eight-figure bank account in my face.

  Jesus, what if it’s eight figures? I should get Jacob to do some digging. I shake my head, immediately dismissing the thought.

  “It’s not that I think you two would be eating ramen noodles for the rest of your life if it doesn’t work out. Money and friends don’t mix.”

  He nods, his eyes focused on the ground. “Let me come with you tonight. I’ll introduce you. We’ll act like it was a coincidence.”

  Of course Tahlia fell in love with this man. How could she not?

  I shake my head. “No, Lucas, but thank you.”

  His shoulders falter and he tucks his hands into the pockets of his worn-in jeans. “Okay.” He looks resigned.

  This is the difference between him and Tahlia—he doesn’t push, which I appreciate.

  “Thank you, though.”

  I move my hand to press the elevator button and this time he allows me, but continues to stand by my side. The elevator dings and when I enter, he holds the door.

  “At least use me as a reference. Tell him you know me and I swear by your products.” He flashes a panty-melting smile of white teeth. Well, panty-melting for Tahl, not me.

  “Are you willing to write a review?” I joke, but he nods his head.

  “If this new toy gives me as much fun as it did Cole and Whitney, hell, I’ll buy you a billboard.”

  The doors move to close and I wave.

  “Bye, Lucas, thank you.”

  “Good luck,” he says, waving back.

  Pompous control freak or not, Jasper Banks better watch out, because he’s never seen the likes of Lennon Hart.

  5

  I climb out of the Uber in my Chanel pant suit and heels. Well, okay, Tahlia’s Chanel pant suit and heels, but tonight I’m making this outfit work for me. I hate the fact that I’m changing myself into someone else, but this is my last resort.

  I’ve never been to this bar before and from the outside it appears way higher-end than I thought it’d be. As far as I know, Jacob doesn’t really spend his money on frivolous things, which makes him a good banker, I suppose. He’s more of a beer guy than a guy who can recite the wine menu. Sure, he’s stuffy, but not nose-in-the-air snooty.

  I step through the door and the inside of the place is dark with crimson walls and black tables and chairs. Businessmen fill the seats with jackets strewn on the chairs behind them. The gleam from their expensive watches and cufflinks sneaks out from under the sleeves of their suit jackets as they pick up their highball glasses that contain alcohol without any ice. The number of women in here is low. I count only five to the men’s twenty. They too are dressed up for the business world and I thank God I made one good choice and borrowed an outfit from Tahlia.

  I sway my hips on the way to the bar and slide onto a stool. The bartender, who is probably a few years younger than I am, approaches me immediately. God, I wish I could take off my jacket, but that would leave me in a sleeveless blouse and I’m not sure this crowd would appreciate my tattoos. Once again, I’d be in a situation where ‘one of these things is not like the other’. Cue the Sesame Street theme song.

  “What can I get you?” He leans across the bar, invading my personal space. He’s cute and normally I wouldn’t mind, but I’m trying to be Miss Proper here. Miss Proper doesn’t flirt with the cute bartender while she’s on a mission to save her not-even-a-real-business-yet business.

  “Scotch. Neat,” I order and he nods, and places a glass on the bar, pouring the scotch in front of me. “Thank you.” I slide my twenty across the table and he leaves it there to go help out another customer.

  I sneak a few peeks of the group over the rim of my glass, trying to figure out which one is Jasper. It’s seven fifty, so technically there could be ten more minutes until he arrives, but I doubt a man like Jasper Banks is ever late. Nor does he accept tardiness in others, I bet. I’ve never met Jasper and when I Googled him, no pictures come up. How in this day in age do you not have one picture on social media? Sure, there’s plenty about him, but not even a picture at a charity gala. Does the man not believe in giving back? Nothing private is mentioned about his life and everything is strictly about his business. So I search for a guy around Lucas’ ag
e, only a few years older than myself.

  All the blue-hairs I omit. That leaves me with ten men still in the running. Unless he’s prematurely gray. It could happen. I knew a guy with a full head of gray at the age of thirty. I used to call him the Silver Fox.

  From my vantage point I can’t get a really good look at all of the men and I resign myself to the fact that I’m going to have to work the room. Each of these men looks like matching game cards in a game of memory. Expensive suit, yes. Gelled hair, yes. Flashy watch, yes.

  The bartender slides the twenty my way.

  “Ladies’ night, drinks are on the house.” He winks and I’m unsure if that’s just for me or for every woman.

  I mean, shouldn’t there be a sign outside stating this very convenient fact? Maybe because this is such a classy joint, they let word of mouth do the work rather than an advertisement that could drag in any women to their place. Me being the perfect example.

  “Thank you,” I say, tucking the money in my purse and then handing him a five-dollar bill.

  He nods and the door behind me opens. I turn in my stool to watch a bunch of women walk in, all done up—dresses, hair, jewelry adorning every limb and more make-up than a Mary Kay factory.

  This group of clones is a little odd and why do they arrive together? Maybe it’s a bachelorette party.

  I check my phone and see there’s five more minutes until eight o’clock. I need to be prepared to make a good first impression.

  I take a deep breath and knock back the remainder of my Scotch. The friendly bartender fills it up immediately. He’s very attentive.

  At eight o’clock on the dot, a man comes into the bar from the back, locks the front door, then claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. All heads turn in his direction and as I examine all the other faces, none of them hold any surprise, as I’m sure mine does. They’re all the opposite—smiling, the women on the edge of their chairs, the men putting their jackets back on.

  What am I missing?

  The man in charge looks to be in his fifties with gray hair and beard. He glances around the room and spots me. “Looks like we have some new people tonight.”