“Martin, fire up the bird,” he said. “We’re headed to Good Samaritan Hospital in San Jose. We’ll be at the helipad in five.”
And with that, he grabbed my arm and frog-marched me to a bank of elevators in a private hallway. I didn’t try to make conversation, Jake’s face a grim mask that I was almost afraid to look at. But when the elevator doors opened and I saw that we were on top of the building with a giant helicopter waiting, I almost sighed in relief. This would get us to the hospital in ten minutes flat where surely, Jake would meet Janie and provide a supply of pills. He could leave immediately afterwards if he wanted, I wasn’t going to make him be a dad if he didn’t want to.
The bird lifted off and soon we were whirring through the air, the strange beauty of the Bay below us, choppy grey waters surrounded by marshes and developed land. I heard the pilot call into hospital traffic control and soon we landed on a helipad near the pediatric wing.
“This way,” I said after we’d disembarked, my high heels long gone, my hair a mess from the wind, my complexion ruddy. But Jake didn’t notice. The grim look on his face was still there, the skin pulled tight across those razor-sharp cheekbones, his usually mobile, expressive mouth a tight line.
“Tina Walsh here, to see Janie Walsh,” I blurted to the woman at the front desk.
“Of course, Ms. Walsh,” said the receptionist. “But we don’t allow anyone but family into the NICU,” she said with a pointed glance at Jake.
“Th- this is Janie’s father,” I said shakily, with a hesitant glance at the big man. There was no change of expression on his face.
“Of course then,” said the nurse. “Please follow me.”
Our steps rang in the empty hallway, the polished floor a depressing green, the walls bare. The NICU was so institutional, I wished they would do something to make it better for families. I swore that if Janie made it out of this alive, I would do something, anything in my power, to make the ordeal more bearable for parents struck by tragedy.
Finally, we pulled up in front of a glass window.
“There she is,” said the nurse gently. “We turned up the heat in the incubator because her temp was falling, and we’re still pumping antibiotics for any secondary infections. I’ll leave you with her now.”
I pressed my nose against the glass, looking at our precious girl. Her body was so small, still under the bright lights, the wires wending their way in and out of her arms and legs, a breathing tube taped under her nose. I was miserable and a silent tear escaped from the corner of my eye.
It was only when I heard a noise that I realized Jake was crying too. I turned my head and the big man had tears on his cheeks, his eyes fixated on the tiny bump before him. Our baby … our baby was sick, and her father was devastated, a man so ruthless he’d made the front page of national media for his cold-blooded ways. But our tiny daughter had brought him to his knees. His hands gripped the window sill with white knuckles, his forearms shaking as he sought to steady himself.
“Jake,” I soothed. “Janie’s sick but you can help her,” I said. “You can do something for her that no one else can,” I continued.
“I know, Tina,” he ground out. “I have the drugs here.”
And with that, he produced a tiny pill pad from his pocket. It couldn’t have been bigger than a credit card, but in tiny transparent blisters were blue pills, small enough for even a baby to swallow.
“I’ll have a supply of Pernacular delivered to the hospital,” he said roughly, his voice breaking. “In the meantime, we should start her on these,” he said with a swipe at his eyes.
I almost collapsed with relief. Jake, someone I thought I hated, had come through. Maybe I could begin to trust him, begin to see him in a new light … as a pharma executive, sure, but also as a father, a man of feeling, and an indisputable part of my life.
EPILOGUE
Tina
Two years later …
My baby squealed happily, waving her chubby arms in the sunlight. Janie was a darling and so different from her first days on earth. I remember how pale she was then, how still, her tiny form seemingly overwhelmed by all the tubes going in and out.
In contrast, my baby was now a tanned, healthy two-year old, running around the playground in a pink t-shirt and matching shorts.
“Papa, Papa!” she cried, her arms outstretched as she reached for the man with dark hair and blue eyes the same shade as her own.
And Jake leaned forward to catch her, swooping her up in a bear hug, her tiny form incongruous in those muscular arms. “Let’s go see what Mommy’s doing okay?” he asked as the little girl vigorously nodded her agreement.
You see, Jake and I are a couple now. The first few months, when Janie was sick, were really rough. Jake could hardly look at me, he was so angry about my keeping the baby’s existence a secret, but his love for his daughter was strong, and with time, our issues came out into the open.
“Why Tina? Why did you storm out of my office that day? I’d already told you I was breaking it off with Jenna, so why didn’t you give us a chance?” he’d asked harshly.
“Jake,” I began slowly. “It’s hard to believe, but it has to do with Pernacular … and how I thought Pernacular defined you.”
He snorted. “What, you believed all that bullshit in the press? How Sterling Pharma denies treatment to pregnant women and lets their babies be consumed by parasites? You know that’s not how my company works. You know that’s not how I work,” he added forcefully.
“I know that now,” I said slowly. “But I didn’t know it at the time. The newspapers just couldn’t get enough of Sterling, and my law professor had basically painted you as villains. I had no idea how the insurance industry works, that they negotiate the price of a drug down to mere pennies on the dollar. Nor did I know that Sterling Pharma was giving Pernacular for free to those in need,” I said slowly. “It was only until your media machine worked its magic that public opinion began to shift,” I added.
Jake nodded. The investment in publicity and “spin control” had paid off, and Sterling was now seen as a model start-up, one which had navigated the treacherous waters of drug development to successfully come out on top -- helping mankind while also making money hand over fist.
“But Tina,” he said slowly. “If you thought I was a monster, why didn’t you just confront me? Why did you hold back about Pernacular?”
I grew red, the heat a tide on my cheeks. “Because,” I said carefully, “I didn’t think very highly of myself. I never thought that someone like you, a bad boy billionaire, would be interested in a mousy no-one like me. So I was a coward. I didn’t give you a chance to make your case, and I regret it.”
Jake was still. “I’m not sure where this takes us, but at least you know that I broke off the engagement with Jenna.”
In fact I didn’t know, but the news had made me incandescently happy.
“You did?” I breathed.
He slowly nodded. “I couldn’t go on with that fucking farce. Jenna’s toxic, with all the lies, the half-truths, the concealed motives. I just couldn’t take it, at home and at work. Life is hard enough when you’ve got an empire to run,” he said ruefully.
“Oh Jake,” I said softly, letting a hand trail down his cheek.
And he turned his mouth to kiss my palm, seizing my wrist in his.
“We’ll start again,” he said roughly. “The bad boy and the good girl, we’ll make it work somehow,” he vowed.
And I nodded. I knew that some way, we’d make it happen. It was going to be hard going, but I had my man and my baby, and I couldn’t ask for anything more.
“Of course,” I murmured, tilting my lips of for a kiss. “Of course,” I murmured reassuringly. Because Jake was ruthless … but he was also mine.
Don’t miss Matt’s story coming up next in Obsessed!
Obsessed
A Sterling Brothers Romance
(Erotic Romance)
© 2016
By Cassandra Dee
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PROLOGUE
Matt
I watched her from the corner of my eye. Teresa was gorgeous – dark-haired, dark-eyed, her long ponytail swept into a mass on top of her head. There was a handkerchief tied around her head, but the material couldn’t prevent a few wisps from dangling around her face, the tendrils sweet and unassuming.
She didn’t even notice me as I worked at my desk. Teresa’s been coming around for a couple years now, acting as my de facto housekeeper. She works for the cleaning company I use, and I’d requested her specifically because I found the girl nice to look at – alright, fucking fantastic to look at.
I gazed at her hungrily, my body hardening automatically. She was on her knees scrubbing something, that juicy ass perched in the air as she leaned over. God, I could almost see the crease between her ass cheeks, her jeans tight and slightly damp from a mix of water and cleaning fluids. How I’d like to fill her with my own fluids, feel those ass cheeks twitch under my hands, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure.
But I forced myself to remain at my desk. As her boss, I had a duty to keep my hands off of that luscious body, to respect boundaries and adhere to a code of professional conduct. Right? Or maybe … billionaires always get what they want, and I was a billionaire obsessed.
CHAPTER ONE
Teresa
“Teresita! You’re going to be late!” my mom called. I groaned and shut the book I’d been reading. Okay, accounting isn’t exactly sexy and exciting, but it’d pay the bills and help lift my family from our humble origins.
I sighed and stumbled to grab my backpack, stuffing the book inside with a bunch of other things I’d need. Notebook? Check. Calculator? Check. Extra change of clothes for my shift? Check check.
Reality was tough. My mom and I moved to California from the Honduras ten years ago, temporarily moving in with relatives while getting settled. I’d enrolled in junior high and my mom had joined my aunt’s business “Krystal Klear Kleaners – Make Your Rooms Sparkle!” It wasn’t bad. It was honest work and my mom and I took home about $50 per home we cleaned. Of course, I was thirteen when I started, so I was essentially free help, someone who tagged along and dusted, did the easy stuff while my female relatives slaved away.
But even fifty dollars a pop was far more than what we could earn in the Honduras. Ah, my home country … I shuddered at the memories. My mom and I had fled, leaving my dad and brothers behind because of the increasing gang violence. Women were prey down there, subject to the vagaries and whims of the locos, the gangs who ruled each city through terror and violence.
I remembered one sweltering, summer day. I’d just gotten back from a neighbor’s birthday party, wearing a pink party dress and clutching a balloon, more child than woman still.
Mom had frowned.
“Where were you?” she asked. “It’s late afternoon. Why weren’t you back sooner?”
“Oh Mami, the party was so fun. Some boys came by to chat with us, you know Rosita’s brother Esteban, guys who hang out with him?” I said with an innocent smile. Esteban had been slickly handsome in a blue soccer jersey with a silver belt buckle the size of my fist. I’d been duly impressed when he’d singled me out, whistling appreciatively.
But Mami’s frown only deepened. “Esteban?” she asked, “Carla’s boy? He still in school?”
“Oh Mami, how would I know?” I sighed exaggeratedly. The truth was that I knew perfectly well that Esteban no longer attended the local high school. Boys routinely dropped out as early as eight or nine to become runners for the local gang, strutting like cockerels on the sidewalk. Esteban probably hadn’t been in school for years.
Mami turned away, so I couldn’t see her face. But I could hear her voice, low and urgent. “Be careful Teresita, Honduras is a dangerous country,” she intoned. “It’s not the country of my childhood anymore, there are many tiburones and sharks waiting for a girl like you.” And I’d shrugged in agreement. I was only ten then, on the cusp of womanhood, the world an exciting place filled with hot, sweet boys like Esteban.
But everything changed a few weeks later. I’d noticed Mami on the phone a lot recently, calling around, her voice becoming hushed when I was within earshot. One day after school, she met me at the school gates.
“Mami, what are you doing here?” I asked, bewildered. She never picked me up after classes, she was always on a job with one of my aunts. There were a bunch of girls around me, all of us in regulation blue and white uniforms.
“Teresita, get your things,” she said calmly. “I’ve hired a taxi for us.”
Scowling, I packed all my school supplies into my bag and threw them into the back of the car. “Where are we going?” I asked plaintively as the taxi bumped and ground along an unpaved dirt road. Honduras is a poor country, but even we pave our roads. The dirt track could only mean one thing -- we were headed out to the boonies, god knows how far from civilization.
“I have homework,” I whined. “Carlita wanted me to come over and study!” I added, throwing my mom a reproving look.
“Teresita,” said my mom sternly, turning to look at me from the passenger’s seat. “I’m moving you to the countryside to live with some relatives. You remember Auntie Blanca, your father’s cousin? She lives with Uncle Gordo in Guadalajita, about two hours from the city. They’ll be able to look after you until you’re married.”
“Mami, no!” I exclaimed in shock. “No!” I reiterated forcefully. “All my friends at school, my teachers, I haven’t said goodbye, and what about Papi and Herberto and Gonzalo?” I asked, referring to my dad and two older brothers. “Do they even know I’ve left? Why?” I whimpered, my childishness evident.
“Teresita,” my mom said firmly, sadness pulling at her mouth, “we want to keep you safe. You’re becoming a beautiful girl,” and her voice trailed off, dabbing at her eyes. “And we can’t protect you in the City. Mami and Papi have to work, and the wolves, they’re all over.” I knew she was referring to the local gang which had branded themselves as Los Lobos, the wolves. Suddenly I was sad and scared, just a little girl again, a pawn among bigger, stronger players. What had happened to my innocent existence, my safe haven of childish chatter and the latest movies?
But I bit my lip and tried to look brave, holding back tears. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t have a choice either. I was exiled to some isolated farm to live with an elderly aunt and uncle, rarely to see my friends again. I sobbed quietly, my cries barely audible in the back of the car. But it didn’t change my mom’s mind, her back straight and resolute.
“Vamos, Teresita, take care my darling daughter,” she intoned before dropping me off, the taxi doing a U and disappearing in a cloud of dust. And with a heavy heart, I began trudging to my new home … unsuspecting of the danger inside.
CHAPTER TWO
Matt
It was so fucking boring at these things. I looked around the dinner table, the women dressed in couture, the men in slick dinner jackets. I could have sworn our hostess had a real fur stole around her neck, which was ludicrous given that the pea shoot soup had dribbled a bit of neon green onto the white fur.
“Matt,” she called out, her voice ringing out across the table. “Tell us what you’re up to these days. You and your brothers are filthy rich from the Sterling Pharmaceuticals IPO, isn’t that right?”
Ah, trust Delinda to be discreet. Of course, all the guests already knew that Sterling was a fucking unicorn, one of the few start-ups to successfully launch and go public. And yes, my brothers Jake, Caleb, Cade and I were now fucking billionaires, the toast of San Francisco. But really Delinda? Did you have to make a pronouncement at a crowded table?
I responded the only way I could. Delinda was married to Bill Dowd, one of the top VCs in the valley, and not someone to offend.
“Darlin’ Delinda, I’
m up to this and that,” I said smoothly. “Sterling keeps me busy on a day to day basis and I have a coupla hobbies,” I drawled.
Delinda smiled sweetly.
And have you been seeing anyone special?” she asked with a wink. “We’ve got some very eligible ladies seated right here.”
I fucking growled under my breath. I hated being set up on blind dates, introduced to all sorts of “eligible women” who oohed and ahed at everything I said, swooning at my every gesture. But again, I needed to play the gracious guest.
“I’m just a farm boy,” I drawled again, “Much too simple for the likes of the gorgeous ladies here,” I said, smiling at the assortment of thin, starved beauties arrayed around me. I swear, each of these women could use a good meal … yeah, a hefty ham sandwich would do it, if they weren’t already vegans, fruitarians or South Beach disciples. My smile didn’t reach my eyes, but based on the predatory looks and competitive hair-tossing, these women already had their claws out.
“Well Matt darling, we’ll have to get you set up!” crowed Delinda. “All it takes is the right woman and you’ll be a married man in no time, isn’t that right Bill?” she said, nudging her husband. “We were married on the fly, honey, and wasn’t it just the most wonderful whirlwind?”
Bill, who had obviously been in this situation many times before, ignored his wife as he spoke to another guest. But the rest of the table tittered politely, even as we smiled. It was common knowledge that Bill and Delinda and begun their affair while married to other people, destroying their families in the process.
But that was their business, not mine. I just wanted to finish this dinner and get the fuck back to my penthouse before getting up again for another hectic day.
The Wicked Virgin: An Office Romance Page 19
