“The medication is one called Pernacular,” said the good doctor slowly. “Maybe you’ve heard of it. It’s a single-source generic produced by only one company, which recently raised its price to over a thousand dollars per pill. Janie would need three pills daily for six months I’m afraid, making any treatment unrealistic.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m so sorry to break the news to you. It’s hard to know that there is an option just out of reach.”
But my mind had screeched to the halt at the word “Pernacular.” Pernacular, Pernacular, Pernacular, the words kept ringing in my mind like a taunt. I’d cut off Janie’s father because of his ruthless profit-seeking, but suddenly I knew I had an option, a way out. Sure, I’d have a ton of explaining to do and it wouldn’t be easy, but I’d do anything for my little girl … even if Jake drove an impossible bargain.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jake
I was growing bored at the head of the conference table. As usual, my brothers and I were surrounded by a bevy of lawyers, bankers, media strategists, publicists, and their hangers-on, all wanting to tell us what to do. I wanted to tell them, “Listen, Sterling Pharma has made you rich as fuck … so shut the fuck up.”
But no such pronouncement left my lips. I didn’t want to be branded a rogue CEO anymore than necessary because there was already a ton of bad press about Pernacular and Sterling’s decision to jack up the price. What people didn’t understand was that the decision wasn’t so simple, nor the outcome so black and white. Despite the price increase, patient co-pays are actually lower; many patients get the drug at no cost; Sterling has since expanded our free drug program; and half of our drugs are available for one dollar, making them accessible to all.
Unfortunately, the media had focused on only one aspect, Pernacular’s list price, which isn’t the price insurers pay. Anyone familiar with the drug industry knows that insurers often haggle like old women, driving down the actual price to a mere fraction of what we charge. So the $700 pill touted by the media was largely an illusion, subject to the whims of a host of interested parties.
I cursed mentally. And yet here I was in this miserable position, listening to publicists put forth their plans for “re-framing the issue” and such bullshit. I wanted to kick their asses for putting us in this position in the first place.
Fuck my life. I just couldn’t see how things could get worse. The woman I was crazy about had left me with no reason except that “she couldn’t do this.” What the fuck did that mean? It was so vague and evasive, impossible to understand. What started as a hot fuck had turned into much more, Tina’s intelligence and sassiness intriguing me until I was downright near-obsessive about the girl.
But I had no idea where she was now. I’d been tempted to set a PI on her trail, but my male pride had forced me to let her go. So the brunette had disappeared into the masses and I was too proud to admit that my heart had been broken by a woman I’d slept with only twice … but gotten to know in a myriad of ways, good and bad, her amazing and her less amazing traits, all of which I adored.
Fuck me, I cursed. Life just sucked on all angles. Fortunately, at that moment Mary Beth opened the door and said, “Gentlemen, I’ve received an urgent call for Mr. Sterling,” she said, nodding my way. “Please excuse him for a minute.”
MB is my long-time assistant and she calls the shots. If an issue was urgent, then I trusted her judgment. But more likely MB knew I was dying and was pulling me out of the meeting so that I could get a much-needed break. Fuck, Matt could take care of it, he was the VP of Marketing after all.
I made my excuses and headed towards the door.
“This way, Mr. Sterling,” said MB. “You have a guest waiting for you in your office.”
I strode into my office, my mind on a million things. I looked around, ready to dismiss my visitor but came to a full stop when I saw who it was. Tina. The girl who’d left me gasping, empty, my nights fucking endless, my days a nightmare as I fought through the media storm. Why was she back?
“Hi Jake,” she said quietly, her eyes wide. She looked delicious. Instead of wearing her usual plaid, Tina was dressed in a navy blue shirtdress which clung to her curves, outlining that voluptuous body. Her hair was a riotous mass of curls, unrestrained and springing free, those chestnut ringlets gleaming in the light. Plus, she had high heels on, my favorite, showing off her toned calves to their best advantage.
But I also noticed signs of strain, bags under her eyes, lines of tension around her mouth that hadn’t been there before.
“Well, well,” I rumbled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“Jake,” she said quickly. “Thank you for seeing me--”
“It wasn’t me who decided to see you,” I cut her off. “Mary Beth plunked me in here with no advance warning,” I said shortly.
My tone didn’t ruffle the brunette. “Then thank you Mary Beth,” she murmured. “I just need a few minutes,” she continued, “You see, we have a daughter together.”
I couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“I’m sorry?” I said slowly. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Did you just say we have a child together?”
“Ye-yes,” she stammered hesitantly. I was glad at least something made the girl stumble.
“Okay … just so I understand. You’re saying that of the two times we had sex, one time my little guys swam up to one of your eggs, and made love, sweet love, resulting in a baby?” I said sarcastically. I couldn’t help it. I wanted her so badly but I also wanted her to pay for putting me through these months of misery.
“Jake, I know this is hard to take,” she said slowly. “I never meant for you to know.”
“You never meant for me to know?” I interrupted, my rage building. “You never meant to tell me that I was a fucking father?” I was livid, my anger like a force of nature as she trembled before.
“I know,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think we had a future. But,” she continued quickly, “I’m here to see you now because our daughter’s sick. Our baby. Janie has leukemia.”
I felt weak and had to lean against my desk for support. The blows were coming too fast, one right after another, to my heart and to my gut.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said slowly. “She’s only … what, a month old? We only fucked a year ago,” I said harshly.
“Jake, please,” Tina said softly. This time I noticed tears shimmering in her eyes. “Janie has leukemia from some kind of parasite that I caught when I was cat-sitting. I’m fine and the parasite is long gone, but somehow Janie’s immune system is compromised such that abnormal white blood cells are multiplying like crazy.”
I was so stunned that I couldn’t say a word. My life, which had improved dramatically when I saw Tina in the room, had just taken another nosedive to unforeseen depths. My only child, a daughter that I didn’t even know existed, was dying or dead. My body was leaden, my mind too numb to process what was happening.
But Tina pushed on ahead. “Jake, the doctors tell me that Sterling Pharma is the maker of the only drug that can save Janie. Pernacular. You know, the one that costs a thousand dollars per pop. Won’t you,” she choked, “please, won’t you give some to Janie? For your daughter?”
I was struck speechless again. This woman thought she had to beg me for a life-saving drug for our daughter? I shook my head, realizing just how low her opinion of me must be. She must have thought I was the worst fucking bastard from the ninth circle of hell, someone who would withhold life-saving treatment from his own child.
But time was of the essence. Pernacular is most effective if taken sooner, not later during the treatment regimen. “Bring me to her,” I said roughly. “Take me to my daughter.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tina
I almost cried with relief. Although Jake had said nothing about actually providing the drug, his brusque movements and curt tone on the phone assured me that Janie’s illness was his first priority.
“Martin, fir
e 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.
My Boyfriend's Boss: A Forbidden Bad Boy Romance Page 49
