Building Billions - Part 1

by Lexy Timms

  “That he obviously hates.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You never see the two of them together unless it’s for a press conference or some sort of big meeting. The way they look at each other is empty at best. I’m sure it’s all for show.”

  “You think he’s been dating his long-time girlfriend for show?” I said.

  “Celebrities do it all the time. You know, to bolster their careers and shit. Why the hell wouldn’t he do it to keep up with his image? Better than all these fuckboys running around sticking their dicks in everything that breathes and has boobs.”

  “How in the world are you managing to make this worse?” I asked.

  “Ashley, come on. You’re making too big of a deal out of this. Did you have some drinks with him?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Did he have some too?”

  “Oh, yes,” I said.

  “Were you looking hot?”

  “What?”

  “I’m always telling you to get dressed up more and go out. Did you look hot the night you rode your boss?”

  “Could you say that any louder?” I asked.

  “Maybe. Want me to try?” she asked with a grin.

  “I don’t even know why the heck I came to you with this.”

  “Heck? Really? You got dressed up, drunk, did your boss, and you can’t say ‘hell’?”

  “I hate you.”

  “You love me, so listen to me. If he was happy with his pathetic excuse for a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have done what he did. None of this has anything to do with you. I know you. You didn’t seduce him, I’m sure. You didn’t throw yourself at him because I can hardly get you to wear a tight pair of jeans, much less flirt. I’m sure you still had your glasses on.”

  “Actually, I didn’t,” I said.

  “You didn’t wear your glasses? I’m impressed.”

  “And I might have been wearing that dress you bought me a couple months ago.”

  “The one I got you for your birthday?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “The tight little red one I told you to save for a night of danc—? Wait a second.”

  “Cassidy.”

  “The man can dance, can’t he?” she asked.

  “Ugh,” I said with a groan.

  “You’ve never been able to resist a man who can dance. Ashley, I’m proud of you. That’s the first time, like, ever that you’ve dressed up and gone out.”

  “Not ever. Just the first time in a very long time,” I said.

  “Either way, you had fun. You threw caution to the wind and allowed yourself to let loose. I hate I missed it, but a job is a job. But you know what this means?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “This means you can’t sidestep me anymore on going out on the weekends. Now that I know you’re capable of it, we’re making it a monthly thing.”

  “What? Going out, getting drunk, and having sex with our bosses?” I asked.

  “I have enough sex with my boss as it is,” she said with a wink. “I’m ready for someone else to tackle that job.”

  “Ew, Cass.”

  “Oh, come on. A good masturbation joke while you’re recovering from a near-death experience is refreshing. Invigorating. Eye-opening.”

  “Near death experience? Your hangover that bad?” I asked.

  “Absolutely horrendous. I told you not to get that bottle of Patron just for me.”

  Cassidy and I poked around at our brunch, neither of us necessarily hungry. I was glad she could make it for at least one night in the hotel with me, but it was going to take me a while to recuperate from my hangover. There had been another party in the ballroom last night, but I didn’t have the guts to go. After what I’d gotten myself into with Mr. Sheldon, the last thing I needed was to face him.

  Or worse, watch him walk off with another woman for the night.

  “You got plans after this?” Cassidy asked.

  “I was going to go see my mom. Why?” I asked.

  “No reason. Figured we could lay around in bed and be miserable together, but we can get up tonight. Tell your mom I said hey?”

  “If she’s having a good day, I will. Thanks.”

  After having Cassidy insist she pay for brunch, I embraced her closely. I enjoyed these times with my best friend. The two of us had met by happenstance in a restaurant just after I’d graduated college. The two of us had been stood up on dates that night in the same place, so she decided it would be a good idea for us to get food, get drunk, and complain about how men sucked. She told me all about her dreams to own her own bakery, and I told her about my passion for numbers and how most people thought it was stupid. We shut down the restaurant that night getting to know one another, and the rest was history after that.

  Two single girls in the middle of Miami trying to figure things out in the world.

  I drove up to the elderly care facility and sat in the parking lot. I felt tears rise to my eyes as I reached for the to-go water I’d gotten from the restaurant. I hated days like this. And I hated myself for hating them. Coming and seeing my mother was one of the hardest things I had to do with my week. I loved her. I really did. She had been a very conservative woman growing up and the strongest person I’d ever known. But visiting her in a place like this was torture.

  Watching Alzheimer’s eat away at the strong woman I was raised by broke my heart.

  I got out of the car and started into the facility. Everyone there knew me by name. I was the sole provider for my mother and worked as hard as I did at Big Steps to pay for the care she needed. Her Alzheimer’s had gotten to a point where I could no longer take care of her the way she needed, and the fight that ensued when I told her I was going to put her here almost broke us. She was furious with me, accused me of not loving her and seeing her as a burden. She’d called me selfish and rattled off all the things she’d sacrificed to raise me after my good-for-nothing father walked out on us.

  Then four hours later, she couldn’t even recall the conversation.

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Is that my daughter I hear?”

  I felt my heart flutter at the question. She recognized my voice. That meant she was having a good day. I walked into her room and sat by her bed, taking her hand in mine. She looked good. Healthy. Strong. She had color in her face and light in her eyes, and when she smiled at me, I could see the woman I’d grown up with for the past twenty-seven years.

  “Happy Sunday, Mom.”

  “Happy Sunday, Ashley.”

  “I saw Cass this morning. She wanted me to tell you hello,” I said.

  “Still making those crude cakes of hers?” my mother asked.

  “Do you really need to ask that question?”

  The two of us shared a laugh, and it filled a part of the gaping hole I tried to keep covered from the world.

  “It’s a beautiful day outside today,” my mother said. “Some of us are going on a walk later.”

  “That sounds like fun. You and Francis and Gary?” I asked.

  “And Marshal,” she said.

  “Marshal? Hmmm. This Marshal someone I should meet?”

  “Oh, no, no,” my mother said with a smile. “Nothing like that.”

  “I don’t know. That smile is pretty telling. You got yourself a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

  “Goodness me, Ashley. I’m way too old to be indulging in men.”

  “Nonsense, Mom. You’re a vibrant, beautiful, elegant woman. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “Yes, on the days I can remember his name,” she said.

  “Well, you remembered his name today,” I said with a smile. “Maybe he’ll be bold and take your hand while the two of you are walking.”

  My mother clapped the top of my hand before bringing it to her lips to kiss.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what, Mom?”

  “About our fight. How angry I got when you said you were moving me in here.
This place is wonderful, full of good people who are really attentive to what I need.”

  I felt my heart drop as I watched the light slip from her eyes.

  “Mom. That was ... that fight was seven months ago.”

  “Oh, I know that. But it was a hard one for us, and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. Putting me in this retirement home was the best decision for both of us, and I should have trusted your judgment. I’m proud of the woman you’re becoming and the decisions you’re making with your life,” she said.

  But I could tell she didn’t know that. I could tell the timeframe had caught her off guard. Just that quickly, she was slipping away from me. Her mind was giving way to the desolate wasteland of forgetfulness. Five minutes ago, my mother knew my name, and pretty soon, she wouldn’t even know what building she was in.

  I tried to hold back the tears as I held tightly onto her hand.

  “It’s happening, isn’t it?” my mother asked.

  “Wh-what’s happening?” I asked.

  “I can always tell by the look in your eyes,” she said. “When I’m starting to slip again.”

  “You’re not slipping. Not by a longshot. I’m just tired. It was a long weekend.”

  “What did you do with it?” she asked. “You didn’t let that girl take you out, did you? Oh, what’s her name?”

  “Cassidy?” I asked.

  “That’s it. She’s always trying to get you to be someone you’re not.”

  “No,” I said breathlessly. “I didn’t go out with Cass. This weekend was the company party, remember? The one at the hotel I told you about?”

  “Oh. Oh, yes. Silly me. How could I forget something like that?”

  I bit down on my tongue to keep my jaw from trembling.

  “Can I admit something?”

  “You can tell me anything, Mom.”

  “I really wish you would find yourself someone to love,” she said. “A man who can protect you after I’m gone.”

  “That’s funny, coming from you. You raised me to be strong and to rely on no one but myself. My mantra from my childhood was ‘there’s nothing that only a man should be able to give you.’ ”

  “I worry about you sometimes, though, worried that your father leaving is the reason why you’re so scared to date.”

  “I’m not scared. I’m just not most men’s cup of tea,” I said.

  “What? They don’t like beautiful, funny, intelligent women nowadays?”

  “Guess not,” I said with a grin.

  “I wish my body would stop this nonsense long enough for me to see my daughter get married.”

  It was almost like she wasn’t even talking to me, like that statement was something meant for only her mind’s eye to hear. It broke my heart. Every part of me shattered as the words fell from her lips. I felt her hand loosen around mine as I scooted closer to her. Then, I watched as her head fell off to the side.

  “Mom?” I asked. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Mom? Do I need to call a nurse?” I asked. “Mom?”

  She turned her head to look at me, and I saw the blank expression in her eyes. She pulled her hand away from mine as a look of fear overcame her. I scooted my chair back immediately and braced myself for what was coming. The fit she would throw because her mind had betrayed her again like it had been doing for the past two years.

  “Who are you?” she asked. “Where’s—whose bed is this?”

  I reached over and pressed the red button on the wall before I picked up my purse. I heard the flood of nurses come down the hallway as their eyes dripped with sympathy for me. My mother was getting worked up over her unfamiliar surroundings, and I couldn't stay to watch it this time. Normally, I would. I’d stand in the corner out of the way to try and be strong for her. Even when she yelled at me to get out and even when she said she didn’t know who I was and that she wanted me to leave.

  I’d stay so the part of her buried underneath her Alzheimer’s would know I was there and that I hadn’t abandoned her like my father had all those years ago.

  But this time, I couldn’t.

  I didn’t have the strength to.

  I walked out into the hallway, listening as my mother yelled at the nurses. Tears flooded my vision and dribbled down my cheeks as I made my way to my car. I slammed myself in and cranked it up, determined to race back home and sleep off the rest of this disgusting hangover. My head was pounding, and my eyes hurt. I was thirsty beyond belief, and my body ached.

  Then, I saw it. In the reflection of my chest off the windshield of my car.

  The hickey poking out from beneath my shirt.

  I was a disgrace. I had a mother who would never see me get married when it was the only thing she wanted. I had a best friend who was trying to convince me that sleeping with my taken boss was a good thing. I had a job to report to tomorrow after showing my ass at a party over the weekend, and I had no idea what to do about the emotions welling in my chest. It hurt. All of it hurt. I loved my mother. She was the light of my life. But watching her spiral like that after making the grandest mistake of my life was too much for me to handle.

  I cried behind the wheel of my car as I made my way back to my apartment. There were so many things I had to do before work tomorrow. I had to rework my personal budget to make sure I had enough money to cover Mom’s expenses this month. I had to clean down my apartment because I hadn’t touched it in two weeks. I had to make sure my mother’s Medicaid was set to go for the next year, and I needed to grocery shop.

  The only thing running through my mind, however, was sleep.

  All I wanted to do was sleep.

  Chapter 5

  Jimmy

  I felt refreshed after the weekend and was in the mood for a bright lunch. I stopped at the coffee shop a few blocks from work and decided to get some fruit as well as my regular coffee. Black, no sugar, and topped off with a shot of espresso. It was the perfect way to bounce back from any lingering hangover, and it would kick my work week off very well.

  “Mr. Sheldon?”

  I turned at the sound of my name and saw Mr. Hoppenmeier coming my way. I put on my best smile and greeted him, shaking his hand firmly. I remembered him. He was one of my most recent clients who’d purchased one of our top-of-the-line customizable yachts.

  “Mr. Hoppenmeier. How are you doing this morning?” I asked.

  “Doing great. Just got back from my first trip on the yacht.”

  “Did you end up going to Key Biscayne?”

  “Doesn’t sound like the greatest trip from the Port of Miami, but it meant a lot to me. I got to finally scatter my wife’s ashes.”

  “And I’ve heard that brings great closure for a lot of people,” I said.

  “It did for me. My wife always wanted to take a yacht trip, and when she died, I beat myself up for months about never taking her out on one. I was always too busy with something. Kept pushing it out in favor of other things.”

  “I’m sure she understood, Mr. Hoppenmeier.”

  “But I got to take her on one. I told myself when she died, I would do that. I wouldn’t scatter her ashes until I took her on the yacht ride she’d always wanted.”

  I watched the man’s eyes glisten with tears, and it touched something in me. People thought I sold luxury goods because I was a materialistic man, but it wasn’t because of that. It was because of stories like this. Stories like Mr. Hoppenmeier and how being able to splurge on things he wanted helped him gain closure and bring him closer to people he loved who were now gone.

  Yes, most people were materialistic. In fact, ninety percent of my clients were exactly that.

  But it was that other ten percent that kept me going.

  “When did she pass?” I asked.

  “Two years ago,” he said. “And she’s greatly missed. But now, I have an excuse to yacht to Key Biscayne whenever I get free time. I can travel that same path and reminisce about our time together.”

&nbs
p; “Sounds like a wonderful way to spend your vacation,” I said. “Maybe take the kids with you if you have any.”

  “Oh, I plan on it. Family outings, cookouts, Fourth of July celebrations. I’ve got so many plans my wife would’ve loved, and we’ll do them all in her honor. I know you’re a busy man, but I saw you come in, and I had to thank you in person.”

  “I’m never too busy for people like you, Mr. Hoppenmeier. You can stop me anytime.”

  “A word of advice?” he asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “Enjoy that woman. I see you on the news with her sometimes. The two of you look like a great couple. Don’t neglect the time you have together. Take her on vacations. Treat her to nice things. They won’t be around forever, even though you might think it.”

  I drew in a deep breath as I forced a smile onto my face.

  “I most certainly will, then,” I said. “You have a good week, Mr. Hoppenmeier. And if there’s anything I can do for you, get in contact with me.”

  I walked back out to my car and got in as my driver pulled away from the curb. I ate my fruit and stared out the window, trying to get myself in a mindset to work. The mere mentioning of Nina always threw me for a loop. She was becoming more expensive than I had planned, and the two of us needed to have a serious talk when she got back from her frolicking in New York.

  Though I was tempted to demand her back now.

  “Jimmy, I’m glad you’re here,” Ross said.

  “Everything all right?” I asked as I stepped out of the car.

  “We have a meeting with our lead certified personal accountant. You know, about the paperwork.”

  “You mean Ashley?” I asked.

  “Ashley’s going to be there, but the CPA we keep on retainer will give us a good first set of eyes. Just trust me on this?”

  “That’s fine. I’m not worried about it. I trust your judgment on people and their skills. But why are we hurrying?”

  “Because the meeting is now,” he said.

  Rolling my eyes, I threw the rest of my fruit in the trash. I held onto my coffee in one hand and my briefcase in the other as we ascended to the Accounting floor of the building. We walked off the elevator and rounded into the CPA’s office, and I had to take a deep breath before approaching them.