Royally Flushed: Tech Billionaires

by Ainsley St Claire

  “You’re hardcore,” he teases.

  “Maybe. I always missed my mom, but her alcoholism would make her forget she had plans with me. I always want people to follow through on what they’ve promised or are supposed to do.”

  “You’re a major stockholder in the company, so I will defer to you.”

  “I’m your assistant with an opinion,” I remind him.

  “An opinion I agree with,” he counters.

  “I need to run,” I tell him. “Dinner is about to be served, and I get to meet Brian’s family and the staff that lives on the property.”

  “Absolutely,” he says. “Enjoy.”

  Chapter 26

  Jackson

  The office is quiet. Everyone else has gone. I pause to rub my hands over my face. Today completely sucked, and I can’t even get it to end. I didn’t get half as much done as I do when Corrine is here. She’s the person in front of me, fending off the unnecessary, and the person behind me cheering me on. Right now, I feel abandoned, and it’s all my fault.

  One of the things that makes me a strong entrepreneur is that I go for what I want. Once I get it, I sometimes realize it’s not the shiny object I thought it was, but maybe even better.

  I pour myself a glass of bourbon from my office liquor stash, sit back in my chair, and look out over the East Bay. Corrine has been working for me for a little over a year. I remember when I hired her. She’d been working for a startup that went under. She was definitely hungry for challenging work, and she worked hard. At the time we were only a company of maybe a hundred people. She came in and created systems and structures where we had none. She was a godsend.

  My mind turns to the women I’ve dated in that time period, which Corrine has dealt with. There’ve been several. I haven’t slept with them all, but she’s had to field calls and plans from all of them. And sometimes I see their names on the call sheets, but I don’t return their calls. I start adding up the women, and I’m embarrassed.

  Fuck. No wonder Corrine has trouble trusting me. She must think I’m a total manwhore. Especially since they’re all Barbies and flotation devices, as she likes to tell me. She’s right. And funny.

  I look at my watch. I wonder what she’s doing right now. It’s after eleven here, but earlier there. Still, in case she’s gone to bed already, I text her.

  Me: Are you up?

  Corrine: Yes. I just got settled in my room. Feel free to call.

  I immediately dial her.

  “Hey,” she answers. Her voice sounds sultry, and it makes my dick hard.

  “How was dinner?”

  “I got to meet Brian’s family and spend time with the staff. I like them all. Maybe I should take over the majordomo role?”

  “Please, don’t do that. I need you.”

  “You’d still have me, just in a different role. I’m teasing anyway. I’d get lonely here without my friends.”

  She’s silent a moment, and I wait to hear if she says she’s going to be lonely without me.

  “How was the rest of your day?” she asks instead.

  “Kind of still going,” I sigh. “I did get a call from the agency, and they’re sending a woman in first thing tomorrow. They assure me I’ll be impressed.”

  “I’ll call when I wake up and see how she’s doing.”

  I can’t let it go. “Won’t you miss me, too?”

  “I don’t know. I did ask for a casting of your dick. It’s not the whole thing, but with some speed and maybe a set of ears, I might forget all about you.”

  Now I know she’s teasing. “A set of ears?”

  “Yes, they’re like rabbit ears that nestle up against my clit and vibrate. It would make for a shattering orgasm.” Her voice is low and really making me horny.

  “But wouldn’t you prefer the real thing? After all, the real thing comes with fingers, a mouth, and a live dick.”

  “I definitely like the sound of that.”

  “I miss you,” I tell her truthfully.

  “I haven’t been gone twenty-four hours.”

  “I know, but going back to my apartment without you seems depressing.”

  “I’m sure there are plenty of people you can call to keep you company—and I don’t mean naked company, people to hang out with.”

  “That’s my problem. I only want to hang out with you naked.”

  “Brian has set up perimeter alarms and cameras and some other devices. The staff is concerned that the nocturnal life of the mongoose is going to drive him crazy, but he’s going to try.”

  She’s changed the subject, and that isn’t lost on me.

  “I met Brian’s family,” she continues. “His two little boys are adorable. I mean, just the cutest things. They’re all trouble. They’re mini versions of Brian, but I think they have their mother’s sense of adventure, which gives Brian great anxiety. They were so much fun at dinner tonight. I’ve asked him to find a perimeter fence for the pool. I know it can obstruct the view to have a fence, but it’s a safety issue. Plus, they’re having problems with critters drowning in the pool.”

  “I defer to you for that. Can I change the subject?”

  “Of course. You’re the boss.”

  My heart stops. This again? I want to be more than Corrine’s boss. I want to be her everything. But right now doesn’t seem like the time to push.

  I take a deep breath. “How’s the view from the master suite?”

  “It was stunning today. You’re going to love it when you get here.”

  “Aren’t you staying there?”

  “No, that’s your room. When you come, you can stay there. I’m staying in the same room I stayed in last time.”

  That’s a knife through my heart. “Then what are you wearing?”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t very sexy. I’m wearing a pair of your boxer shorts and one of your MIT T-shirts.”

  That is a positive sign. “So, at least I’m close—in theory—to all my favorite parts.”

  She giggles, and my heart soars. “I suppose that would be true. I probably did that subconsciously.” She chuckles. “What about you? What are you wearing?

  “I’m sitting in my office with all the lights off except my desk lamp, watching the East Bay with my work clothes on. Ben is outside in your office—I think reading a book.”

  “You should go home unless you plan on sleeping on that crappy couch in your office.”

  “Hey! That couch cost a lot of money. It’s not crappy.”

  “Sit down on it, and you’ll see. It’s like sitting on a concrete bench.”

  I walk over to the couch and sit down hard. I groan. “Oh my God. I think I hurt my tailbone. You’re right. it’s like sitting on a concrete bench.”

  “I always thought it was because you didn’t want people to stick around long.”

  I chuckle. “That sounds like a reasonable excuse, but that’s not why it’s there—or at least that wasn’t my intent.” My voice softens. “I’ve had visions recently of bending you over the arm of this thing and fucking you.”

  “Mmmmm… That might be fun.” She sighs. “Where else do you think about fucking me?”

  “In the car, in the elevator, on the table at Jim’s house, beside the flower stall at the farmers market… I think about licking your pussy at a restaurant—essentially everywhere I go with you. Do you ever think about fucking me?”

  “Oh, only in the car, the elevator, in public, in private, and definitely in your office.” She sighs again, and it turns me on. “I’ve never had the kind of sex I’ve had with you. And now I crave it, and it scares me,” she says just above a whisper.

  “I’ve never had this kind of sex with anyone else either. And I love that you crave it, but it shouldn’t scare you. It should excite you.”

  “It’s almost midnight there. You need to get home and let Ben get home, too. He’ll have to be back with you very early tomorrow morning.”

  I’m disappointed that she’s avoiding the conversation about her feelings with
me, but I won’t push—at least not right now.

  “Ben has the next few days off, and I have a new guy named Quint covering me. I really wish you were here. Goodnight, my love.”

  “Goodnight.”

  ***

  My alarm clock sounds entirely too early. There was a time when I didn’t have to wake to a clock. I was a machine. I slept five hours a night, I often worked eighteen-hour days, and I worked out every day. On occasion, I’d go to industry events, or I’d go on a date, but I hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since grad school.

  Now all of a sudden, a switch has been flipped. I care less about long days at work, and I think one of my all-time favorite days was last Saturday. Corrine and I wandered the farmers market, had lunch with friends, and spent the rest of the day in bed, which led to spending a good part of Sunday in bed together. I want more of those kinds of weekends. I just need to convince her she wants that with me.

  I trudge myself into work. Just after seven thirty, Quint knocks on my door.

  “Sir, a Winifred Day is here as your temp,” he says.

  I nod and stand to go meet her. She is an older woman and seems formal, but maybe that’s just how her name sounds to me.

  When I walk out, she firmly shakes my hand. “Good morning, sir. I’m here to assist you with your day.”

  “Great. Corrine will check in with you shortly. She’s on assignment at a piece of property I own in Hawaii.”

  “I see.” She picks up a pad of paper and a pen. “Who are the people I can put through to you, and who should I take messages for without disturbing you?”

  “You can put Corrine through whenever she calls, regardless of whether or not my door is closed.”

  She scribbles Corrine’s name down and looks up at me.

  “If I’m not on the phone or in a meeting, any of the executive staff can be put through. If they need to speak with me in person, and I’m not busy, they can interrupt, but also, my calendar is tight, so I need you to manage that.”

  She nods. “And I can find the names of the executives on the website?”

  “I believe so.”

  “What about a wife, girlfriend, or lawyer?”

  I don’t want to get too excited, but she sounds incredibly efficient, and I like this. “If my mother calls, take a message. If the international IP attorney, Charlotte Ming, or our investor, Mason Sullivan, calls, you also can put them through.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I’d like a double espresso with steamed milk from Starbucks across the street.” I start to look at the emails that are flooding in.

  “Well, I think this is a good time to let you know I’m here for business reasons. I don’t do personal errands outside of this office. If you need coffee for your appointments, I will make sure we get that to you, but I don’t run to the coffee stores, dry cleaners, or pick kids up or anything like that.”

  I’m a bit taken aback, but I manage a nod. “Thank you, Winifred.”

  “Ms. Day, please.”

  I nod. “Can you print a copy of my calendar, and let’s go through it?” When will my Corrine be back? “And while you do that, can you please send Quint in?”

  “Yes, sir.” She turns and leaves, and I just hope she’s efficient in handling calls.

  Quint walks in.

  “Can you find me someone who will walk across the street and get us some coffee? I know we have any kind of coffee we want in our employee lounge, but I’d like a double espresso with steamed milk from Starbucks this morning.”

  “I’m happy to go get it,” he says.

  I’m relieved. “That would be fantastic. Here’s a Starbucks card. Buy yourself whatever you want.”

  Ms. Day returns with my calendar, and we agree on when she needs to interrupt me, so I remain on time, and when we’ll go through messages, so I don’t miss anything.

  Quint returns with our coffee, and I’m finally feeling efficient.

  My phone rings shortly after nine, and it’s Corrine.

  “How was your night?” she asks.

  “I missed you. I see you got through Ms. Day without issue.”

  “I talked to her for a few moments. She should be fine—very rigid, though, and that’s going to challenge both of you.”

  “She refused to leave the building to do any personal errands, which include getting me coffee.”

  Corrine laughs so hard that I swear she snorts. “I’m sorry.”

  There’s a knock at the door, and I’m perturbed when Ms. Day sticks her head in.

  “There are two policemen from Las Vegas here to see you regarding Cecelia Lancaster’s murder,” she says. “May I send them in?”

  “Corrine, I’m going to have to call you back. Do you remember the name of the criminal attorney we were referred to?”

  “What’s going on?” she asks, very alert.

  I give her a quick rundown.

  “Call Damien Lewis,” she says. “He’s Gabby’s boyfriend. He’s not a high-profile partner, but you shouldn’t meet them without him there, and he’ll jump for you. In fact, I’ll call him and get him over to the office right away.”

  “Thanks.” I look up, and Ms. Day is waiting for me to tell her where to put the police officers. “Please take them down to the twelfth-floor conference room. I’ll meet them there.”

  I text Corrine and walk back and forth in front of the windows.

  Me: Please give him my cell phone number and tell him to call when he arrives.

  I hoped this day would never come. Shit. I knew the argument I got into that morning with Cecelia would come back to haunt me—we had our conversation in the dining room and very publicly. I blew my top in frustration, and she knew that. She wasn’t mad at me. And never once did I threaten her.

  Twenty minutes later, Damien arrives at my office. “Nice to meet you. I’m Damien Lewis.”

  This is Gabby’s boyfriend? He’s older than I thought he’d be. I expected him to be in his late twenties, but he’s older by about a decade. He’s well dressed, and I believe he works for one of the more prominent criminal defense firms in the city.

  I can’t sit. “Okay, the police have arrived to speak to me regarding Cecelia Lancaster’s murder. She and I had an ugly disagreement before she died, and I was in Las Vegas when she went missing—but I had absolutely nothing to do with her disappearance, and I adored the woman.”

  He nods. “Let’s just listen to what they have to say. Only answer the questions the officers ask. Don’t give them any other information. For example, if one of the officers asks you if you have the time, you say yes. You don’t tell him the time—you were only asked if you had the time. I will cut them off as soon as they veer into waters I’m uncomfortable with.”

  I nod. “Let’s get this taken care of.”

  We take the elevator to the twelfth floor and join the officers in the conference room.

  “Detectives, welcome to Soleil Energy. I’m Jackson Graham, and I understand you’d like to talk to me.” I turn to Damien. “This is my attorney, Damien Lewis.”

  Damien steps forward and shakes their hands and hands them his card. “My client would have been happy to meet with you more promptly had you scheduled a time to speak to him.”

  They introduce themselves, but I don’t hear what they say. The officers hand me cards that I slip into my pocket. They’re agitated that I made them wait.

  Ms. Day is standing inside the door, waiting to be dismissed. “Would you care for any more beverages?” she asks.

  “No, thank you,” they say in unison.

  I shake my head at Ms. Day, and she closes the door behind her.

  “We’re working on the Cecelia Lancaster murder,” the female detective says. “We understand your client had a disagreement with the deceased.”

  All eyes are on me. It seems we’re jumping in at the deep end of the pool. “We did.”

  They wait for me to expand, but I don’t.

  “And what was it about?” the male detective as
ks.

  “She was not a technology person, and I am, and we disagreed about technology,” I reply.

  “Wasn’t it really more than that?” the female detective asks. “She fixed you up with a woman, and she was upset that you’d rejected her?” Her tone suggests she may have been jilted in a similar situation. Why waste your time with someone who’s clearly not your type?

  “No. Our disagreement was about technology,” I say.

  “But you did reject the friend she introduced you to?” she pushes.

  “I did.”

  “And why was that?” she asks.

  I’ll be very direct, which I’m sure will be seen as offensive, but it’s also the truth. “Christina Daniels was looking for a wealthy husband, and I was not looking for a leach of a wife.”

  “But that’s not really how it went down, though, is it?” the male officer asks.

  “That’s how I saw it. Cecelia was disappointed, but she wasn’t angry. I’m sure the woman was a good friend of hers, but she was the type to be interested only in my bottom line.”

  “You got Ms. Daniels pregnant, and she wanted you to make an honest woman of her.” Disdain drips from the female officer’s words.

  My eyes must bulge. There is no fucking way I got her pregnant. “I didn’t get her pregnant.”

  “Maybe she lied about being on the pill?” The male officer offers me a way out, but I know they probably have a noose on the other side of that offer. What they don’t realize is that I have a trump card.

  “We did not consummate our relationship.” I’ve never been so satisfied with a statement, and Cecelia knew that was true. Thus, Christina is causing problems.

  “Christina Daniels claims otherwise,” the female officer says.

  “Excuse me, but my client would submit to paternity testing to prove any child Ms. Daniels is carrying isn’t his. Is that all you have?” Damien interjects.

  The officers look disappointed, but not surprised, and quickly move on. “Tell us about the disagreement over technology.”

  “They were developing a computer with a solar battery. My company, Soleil Energy, is a developer of alternative energy, and I believed they were given bad information. I tried to discuss it with her, but she believed I was wrong.”