Tech Titans: The Complete Billionaire Romance Series

by Swann, Marcella

  “Thanks,” she mumbled stiffly while taking a seat.

  “My pleasure,” I said while pushing her chair in. I was leaning forward so the words were spoken into her ear and I could swear I saw her shiver, but she covered it well. I took my seat as the waitress approached.

  “Hi, guys,” she said with a friendly smile. “How you doing, Jenny?”

  “I’m good, Rachel. How’re the kids?”

  “Really great. Devin got into Stanford and Lilly is a sophomore this year,” I stared at Jenny as Rachel spoke. She was warm and engaged. Why is she being so cold to me? “Can I get you guys started with a couple of drinks?”

  “I’ll take an iced tea with lemon,” Jenny said.

  “And you, sir?” Rachel asked, turning to me. She was a slightly older woman, probably in her 40s, with blonde hair and laugh lines around her eyes.

  “You can call me Aaron, sweetheart,” I said with a wink. “And I’ll take a water.”

  Her smile widened as she wrote down our drink orders. “Okay, Aaron then. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  “So, Jenny, tell me about yourself,” I said once the waitress had left us alone. Jenny had opened her menu and started scanning it.

  “I thought I was supposed to be getting to know you.”

  “Good point. But I need to know. What’s the problem here?” I asked. I was never one to beat around the bush. Jenny looked up from her menu, apparently startled by my directness.

  “Honestly?” She closed the menu and folded her hands on top of it. I could see the lawyer in her coming out as she focused her attention fully on me. Her calculating gaze made me feel strangely exposed. “That team is meant to be mine.”

  The confidence in her tone was absolute. I considered her carefully for a moment. There was substantial money to be made from owning an NFL franchise, but I had a feeling that wasn’t a factor here. She was far too angry at the mere idea of me buying the Titans.

  “Why do you want the team? Big football fan?” I asked, skepticism clear in my voice.

  “Is that so hard to believe?” she asked defensively. This really isn’t going well.

  “No,” I said automatically. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. She must intimidate the hell out of other lawyers in court. “Okay, yes. You just don’t look the type.”

  “Why is that? Because I’m wearing a business suit instead of a football jersey? I’m at work.” Her nostrils flared. “Or is it because I’m a woman?”

  “No. No, no, no,” I backpedalled, raising my hands in front of myself defensively, my fingers spread wide. “I’m not sexist. I just don’t understand what the problem is here.”

  Jenny seemed to deflate at my words. Relaxing her rigid shoulders, she picked at the edge of her menu. “I don’t mean to attack you, but this is important to me.”

  “It’s important to me, too.”

  For some reason, my words reignited her flame. Her mouth became a thin line and I prepared myself for an angry retort. But before she got a chance to speak, Rachel reappeared with our drinks.

  “Here ya go. Have you guys decided what you’d like to eat?”

  I glanced down at my menu on the table. I hadn’t even opened it yet. “What would you recommend?”

  “Well, if you like seafood, we have a nice grilled salmon. Or if you prefer chicken, we have-” I raised my hand to stop her from talking.

  “What is your absolute favorite dish on the menu?” I asked her.

  “My favorite is the spaghetti Bolognese.”

  “Then that is what I’ll have. If it’s your favorite, Rachel, then I’m sure it’s exquisite,” I said, flashing her my most charming smile. She blushed as she wrote down my order, then turned to Jenny.

  “I’ll take that salmon with steamed broccoli.”

  Rachel collected our menus and hurried away. Jenny was looking at me contemplatively.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Are you talking about my delightful personality?”

  “I’m talking about your incorrigible flirting.”

  I let out a fake gasp and brought my hand to my chest dramatically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just happen to be a pleasant person to be around. I can’t help it.”

  “Yeah, okay.” She rolled her eyes, but I could see her fighting a smile.

  “Yet, you don’t like me,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

  “I don’t know you. It’s not a matter of liking or disliking. I’m just not letting this team go without a fight.”

  I leaned forward and looked into her bright eyes. “Game on.”

  “See, that’s part of the problem. I take this seriously.”

  “And you think I don’t?”

  “You just called it a game.”

  “You’re being purposely argumentative,” I said.

  “And I’m guessing you don’t get told ‘no’ very often.”

  “Well, you’re right about that,” I admitted. It was time to get serious. “Real talk. What will it take for you to sign off on this?”

  Jenny studied me for a moment, her expression sober. There was a surprising vulnerability in her eyes when she finally replied.

  “I don’t know if there’s anything that will make me agree to sell the team. Not just to you, to anyone. Whatever impression you may have of me, I am a big fan. More than that really. My grandpa has owned the Titans since I was a baby. You know he has a picture in his office of me crawling around the owner’s suit when I was barely a year old?”

  I shook my head.

  “The Titans are a part of me. It’s been the family business my whole life.”

  “Fair enough. But let me ask you this, do you know anything about running a business?”

  “What?” she looked confused.

  “You just said it yourself. It’s the family business. And you’re right. Team ownership requires business savvy and leadership. Do you really think that you’re qualified for that?”

  I was trying to be reasonable, but Jenny’s eyes flashed with hurt. I tried to change tack. Quickly.

  “I’m willing to pay more than the team is worth.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I told you. This is important to me, too.”

  Rachel chose that moment to reappear with our food. The pasta was delicious. Silence settled over us as we ate. I let my mind wander.

  This was not going as I hoped. If I were honest with myself, I had expected to leave Bill’s office today with his approval and to spend the evening celebrating. Clearly, that had been premature thinking. I hadn’t dreamed of this obstacle in my path. As we finished our meal, I decided to break the silence.

  “Let’s take a step back here. This aggression is getting us nowhere. You need time to think this over, consider the options.”

  “Fine,” Jenny agreed. “I’ll think about it, but I can’t promise anything.”

  Rachel came by then and dropped off a small to-go container with a large piece of tiramisu. “For Bill. Tell him I said hi.”

  “Of course. Thank you,” Jenny said, standing. I stood as well, pulling out my wallet.

  “I’ll take the bill,” I told Rachel.

  “Don’t be silly. I picked the place, so I’ll pay,” Jenny said, handing a handful of bills to Rachel. “Keep the change.”

  “Good idea,” I said as we left the restaurant. “I should probably save my money if I’m going to buy a whole football team.”

  Jenny just shook her head and walked back to her building, leaving me behind on the sidewalk. She was going to take some serious convincing, but I wasn’t giving up. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Three: Jenny

  Pulling my car up in front of the address my grandpa had given me, I looked through my windshield at the mansion Aaron called home. It was a white Beaux-Arts style structure with arched windows and a flat roof. The building was square shaped and there was a small terrace above the fr
ont door. Overall, it was a gorgeous home positioned smack-dab in the middle of Pacific Heights. Talk about a status symbol.

  Okay, to be fair, Grandpa lived in this area of San Francisco too. But I was currently angry with Aaron and feeling snarky. Stepping from my car, I closed the door with slightly more force than was necessary before stomping up the porch steps to his door. I ignored the doorbell and pounded my fist against the wooden surface instead. It was satisfyingly loud.

  I waited a moment, listening carefully for any movement inside. When I didn’t hear anything, I knocked again. Afterward, I rang the doorbell for good measure. Another pause to listen for signs of life and I was convinced that he wasn’t home. Figures.

  I had just started to turn away from the door when I heard the unmistakable sound of a lock being turned. I stood there listening to someone apparently fumbling with the lock for almost a full minute before the door finally swung open.

  I was geared up to immediately give Aaron a piece of my mind, but his appearance stopped me short. Bleary-eyed and mid-yawn, he stood before me wearing nothing but a low-slung pair of pajama pants. As if of their own volition, my eyes travelled over his chest and down his abdomen, taking in every dip and curve. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body, just smooth skin stretched over hard muscle. A line of dark hair started beneath his belly button and trailed down until it disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. I refused to let my gaze go lower, afraid of how my body would react if I saw a bulge down there.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, snapping me out of my reverie. I came back to my senses and looked at his face. His smirk told me that he had caught my ogling.

  “Did you just wake up? It’s 11:00 am.”

  “Is it?” he asked, stepping back and opening the door wide for me to enter. I obliged, and he closed it firmly behind me, blocking out the bright sunlight. We were now in a dimly lit entryway and I looked closely at his face.

  “Are you hungover?”

  “Why did you say you were here?” he asked again, as if I hadn’t spoken. He brushed his hair back from his face and I couldn’t help noticing the way his bicep bulged.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said, an edge to my voice. I had been thrown by his appearance, but the reminder of why I came here helped me focus.

  “Come on.” He led the way into his living room. I looked around curiously. The furniture was modern, and it was all tones of grey or black, giving the place a masculine feel.

  I was glad to see him grab a white t-shirt from the floor in front of the couch and pull it on over his head. At least I wouldn’t be so distracted. Looking around, I realized that he had pants and shoes scattered around the room too. And was that a bra hanging from the lamp?

  A toilet flushed and Aaron turned toward the door the noise came from, looking surprised. Did he forget someone was here?

  “Is this a bad time?” I asked.

  Before he could answer, the door opened and out walked a short girl with spiked up, bright pink hair. She was stick thin with a nose ring and a full sleeve of tattoos on her left arm. Her wild child look suited her, enhancing her beauty. She wore hip-hugging jeans and a black tank top. It was clear that the bra was hers, since she wasn’t wearing one. I stood frozen as she walked into the room, a vape in her mouth and white cloud of smoke trailing behind her. She seemed very comfortable as she walked up to Aaron, as if I wasn’t there at all.

  Aaron, for his part, was not relaxed. He shifted his weight and looked at me with an unreadable expression. Following his gaze, the wild child looked over at me, her eyes looking up and down, taking in my business suit and the laptop case in my hand.

  “Is this your sister or something?” she asked, letting out another puff of vapor as she spoke.

  I expected Aaron to laugh, but he didn’t. “No, this is Jenny. She’s a friend.”

  Not quite.

  “Hey, Jessi. I’m Mel,” she said, looking lazily around the room instead of at me.

  “It’s Jenny,” I said, a feeling of strong dislike settling over me.

  “Well, babe, I had a great time. But I’ve gotta go,” Mel said to Aaron as she sat on the couch to pull on her sandals. I was once again ignored, and it was starting to ruffle my feathers. Aaron looked relieved. It made me wonder exactly what their relationship was.

  “Okay, see ya later,” Aaron said, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. I hovered awkwardly on the other side of the room, eager for this girl to leave.

  Once her shoes were on, Mel stood up and put her vape away in her back pocket. She shot me a fleeting glance before strolling over and grabbing her bra from the lamp, hooking it around her index finger and flinging it over her shoulder shamelessly. “Oops, I almost forgot this.”

  Her airy tone was a little too forced. As if that wasn’t a clear enough message, she strode over to where Aaron sat and straddled his lap. He let out a yelp in surprise before Mel covered his mouth with her own. My anger flared again, and I was shocked at my own reaction. Why am I jealous? I can’t stand this guy!

  Nope, I couldn’t be jealous. It had just been too long since I had dated anyone. This was sexual frustration.

  Despite these thoughts, I found myself fantasizing about ripping the skinny little tart off Aaron’s lap. As I stood there seething, I thought I saw her eyes flicker in my direction once again. It was hard to be sure, though, since her face was still attached to Aaron’s.

  Aaron, for his part, was not enthusiastic in his response. His hands were flailing around, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Maybe it was my own imagination, but I thought he might be trying to figure out a polite way to push her away. Why does that make me happy?

  Even with his massive form, Aaron shrank into the couch behind him. He appeared to be wilting. Finally, Mel pulled away from his lips and the look he gave her showed his confusion.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked her quietly, but I still heard.

  “Just saying goodbye.” Mel replied with a shrug as she climbed off his lap and sauntered toward the front entrance. “Nice to meet ya, Penny,” she called out over her shoulder. I ground my teeth.

  “It’s Jenny.”

  “Oh, right,” she said stopping and turning back around. She shot me an apologetic smile that I didn’t buy for a second. “Call me,” Mel added to Aaron. Then she was gone.

  We heard the front door open and close a moment later. I watched as Aaron sat forward, placing his elbows on his knees and rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t looking at me and his shoulders were slumped.

  Is he embarrassed?

  Chapter Four: Aaron

  “Mel’s just a friend,” I said. I had no idea why I needed Jenny to know that. For that matter, why was I so mortified by what just happened? I never got embarrassed.

  You care what she thinks of you.

  I pushed that thought aside. I barely knew Jenny and she’d been a thorn in my side since we met. I had no reason to care about her opinion of me.

  “You sleep with all your friends?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t,” she replied coldly.

  My head was pounding. I stood up from the couch and lead the way into the kitchen, sure that Jenny would follow. My kitchen was bright with white cabinets and cream-colored marble countertops. There was an attached breakfast nook that I rarely used. I usually just ate my meals at the kitchen island.

  I headed straight to the coffee machine and started a pot. When I turned back around, Jenny was sitting on one of the stools at the island, getting her laptop out of her bag with a frown on her face.

  “What’s with the computer?” I asked her.

  “It’s why I’m here. I want to know the meaning of this,” she responded, turning the laptop around to face me. I saw my own face frozen on the screen. It was the still shot at the beginning of a video and as I realized why Jenny was here, she reached around and pushed play.

  “Are you saying that you are buying the San Fr
ancisco Titans from William Condliffe?” a voice off camera asked and a microphone was shoved into my face.

  “You’re the one that said that,” I watched myself frown as I responded to the reporter.

  “And you haven’t denied it.”

  “No, I haven’t.” The recorded version of me let out a sigh in irritation. “I’ll just say I’m confident that the Titans will start their next season with a new owner.”

  “So, William Condliffe has agreed to sell the team to you?” the reporter pressed.

  “I’ll get what I want,” I had replied.

  The video then cut away from me and showed a segment that was clearly filmed later in a studio. The reporter was standing under bright lights with a smug grin.

  “That was Aaron Sanchez, one of four owners of music streaming behemoth SXz-”

  The video froze once again as Jenny pressed the pause button. I looked up and met her eyes, which reflected her anger. She has such an expressive face. I ignored that thought, as it didn’t help my situation at all.

  “What were you thinking with this?” she asked heatedly.

  “I didn’t go to the press. The guy came to me. Cornered me as I was leaving work yesterday,” I explained, turning back to the coffeepot as it finished brewing. “You want a cup?”

  “No. And if the reporter knew about it, then you must’ve been telling people. I thought someone with your ‘business savvy’ would know that a potential deal like this shouldn’t get out at this stage,” she said, her fingers forming air quotes around business savvy.

  “I haven’t been telling people. Well, no one that would talk to a reporter. Just my business partners.”

  “How do you know they didn’t go to this reporter with that information?”

  “I trust them completely. We’ve all had the press watching our every move, looking for something interesting that they can share with the world about the Silicon Valley billionaires. It’s like having some money makes people desperate to know more about you, especially if it’s scandalous. These guys, they’re in the same boat as me. We would never sell each other out to a reporter like that.”