by Kaylee Lynn
Mr. Price
High flyer Series
Book 1
Copyright © 2020 by Kaylee Lynn
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE 3
CHAPTER TWO 6
CHAPTER THREE 9
CHAPTER FOUR 11
CHAPTER FIVE 13
CHAPTER SIX 16
CHAPTER SEVEN 18
CHAPTER EIGHT 21
CHAPTER NINE 25
CHAPTER TEN 27
CHAPTER ONE
The public library was somewhat empty that Saturday but it didn't bother Mr. Pius Price, he intended to read every law book ever written and to memorize every case there was in the whole of the United States. The librarian watched him closely, this was to be the seventh book he had borrowed that month, and she reminded him of that. His son, George Price hugged the publications to his chest while his father skimmed through the shelves.
"The one I'm searching for was written by professor Matthias, you will love it."
George rolled his eyes, all his life he'd known his father to be the smartest and well-read of all his close friends who spent Sunday evenings on the porch with his dad, smoking pipes and drinking whiskey. George and his mother watched from upstairs. They listen to their sudden burst of laughter and then Mr. Price will get serious and dish some juicy cases he had just read, saying that some cases still have breath in them and if they were to be opened again, he could handle it and make the judges regret meeting an Attorney Pius Price.
George stood at the upstairs window, hands on the burglary, starting below. He didn't see when his mother swooped in.
"Yunno your father is a wise man," she said in her country voice. Mrs. Ethel Price grew up in Texas where she met Pius during one of his court appearances while he was still a vibrant young man, taking up cases, showing up in court, feeding dirt to the opposing attorneys. He handled one of her uncle's divorce cases and somehow managed to get the poor old guy to walk away with most of the family assets. Men hardly walked away with that much after a divorce. "You will be like your dad one day." Ethel grinned.
George pulled his eyes from the board of intellectuals now discussing politics to look at his mum at the other side of the room, one hand still holding the burglary railings. "What if I don't want to?"
Ethan's eyed drooped, next thing, she was by his side, running her delicate palm through her son's thick, black head of hair. "Sure you do, you're already on your way to becoming a great lawyer, Harvard Law soon, you'll pass the bar exam, I know you will, and next thing, you're the best lawyer in town, I know you will."
"Yeah," George said mindlessly as he fixed his eye on the small gathering downstairs. I won't be like him; I won't waste all this knowledge and time. I will be rich.
When his dad was finally in his room, George made his way to the house phone in the living room.
"Quincy Dough on the line."
"Hey mate," George said.
"You got in?"
"Yeah. You? Will I see you in Harvard Business next year?"
"I most definitely will. Tell me, how's your dad going to pay for it?"
"I don't know," George replied angrily. "It's been his lifelong dream of his, he has his ways. Besides, I can take a student loan"
"Whoa, sorry for inquiring, I'm just curious. Do you still dream that fantasy of starting a firm?" Quincy asked.
"Maybe, why do you ask?"
"I'm just saying Georgie, there are a million other ways to live big and fulfilled in this life, I mean look at me."
"You're just lucky because you started rich," George kissed his teeth.
"Correct! And so did my dad, and his dad. It's business mate!"
"I'll talk to you later Quince," George managed to say.
"You better, there's an opening in my father's company, and I want to recommend you."
"I said I will talk to you later!"
George dropped the receiver and turned around only to find himself staring face to face with his dad. The man's broad shoulders were slightly slumped and he was now toying with the glasses that sat low on his nose. "Was it that boy, Quincy?" He asked.
"Yes dad, it was nothing, I just wanted to find out if he was going to Harvard too."
"You know I have savings for your education right? You think I'm a total failure, don't you? How did you go through college without applying for a student loan? Did you ever think of that?"
George had thought of that, he had not only thought about it but knew that his father had to sell his old suits, borrow from the bank and his friends to keep him going. All George wanted to know was why he didn't leave the lame, broke firm, Timber and Rooks, for a nicer one, one that didn't file for bankruptcy every year. They had had that conversation before. Mr. Pius's ego was thin ice. It was not George's intention to challenge him again but George was twenty-one years old, too old to be beaten up and sent to his room now.
"You will be a lawyer."
"I don't have much of a choice now, do I?"
"Don't you want this, George?" George always believed that this name was given to him because it rhymed with Judge. If his father has a second child, he might as well have named him Justice, the third, Lawrence but Ethel had a tumor in her womb and had to have it surgically removed after delivering her first child.
"I want it as much as you do dad, but sometimes, you make me feel like I have no choice; like this wasn't my decision but yours."
"Son, I want the best for you."
"You do, yeah, I know that, heard that all my life," he winced and took a step back after noticing that he was charging after his dad like a soldier.
Mr. Plus frowned and turned away, "Get some sleep for church tomorrow," he said without looking back as he climbed the stairs.
George had other plans; he took his keys, a coat, and his wallet, and flung himself out the door.
CHAPTER TWO
Sabrina Rooney was the first girl George ever had sex with. It was in their last year in high school at the back of Quincy's wagon after prom. She was stubby around the hips and belly with tender skin. George disliked the girls who starved themselves to resemble the women on the cover of the fashion magazines with their thin long legs and their ribs sticking out of their skin. Sabrina was more down to earth, she was smart and she didn't have designer shoes or bags, only the best collection of literature books he ever saw.
George rang the doorbell. "I'll get the door ma," he heard a voice call from inside. He knew that voice. A thick and rich voice that sounded like it emanated from the deepest part of the throat. "Who is it?"
George licked his lips, "Hey rosy," he called her rosy because of the way her face flushed bright red when she saw him. Today, her face was redder than the inside of a watermelon.
"What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" He placed his hand at the back of her head, twirling her hair honey-colored hair around his fingers.
"My ma is still up."
"She can join us," he whispered into her ear, pulled her closer to hims
elf, and planted a kiss on her neck. It was a long, wet kiss before she pushed him away. She put her palm in his and rounded the building to the back door.
They stopped right under the kitchen window. Sabrina started taking off her gown.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?"
He gaped at her shape in her lace underwear. Her buxom figure ensnared him. Keeping his eyes fixed on her rather plump breast, he inched closer to her.
"What? All of a sudden you're a dove? Where's the tiger I know?" She laughed.
"He's right here but he's mesmerized by this bad-girl thing you're pulling off."
She reached out for his hands and placed them on her breasts and looked him in the eyes "take me away tiger."
They kissed all the way up the stairs, bumping themselves on the walls and railings, into Sabrina's room, careful not to slam the door. Sabrina finished taking off all her clothes, and the tiger in George awoke.
....
At the first shone of sunlight, George was awake; it took him a while to blink his eyes clear. Last night was fun, Sabrina had gotten fond of him, and he could see that. The shy girl way back had adjusted to being his friend with benefits. They made love to each other when either one of them—mostly George—had something bothering them.
He rolled over to his side and watched her sleep for some time then kissed her lips. "Morning, Rosy."
Rosy squinted and smiled a weak smile, closed her eyes again. George waited. She rolled over to the other side and sat up facing away from him. "Okay, what's it, George?"
"No 'good morning'?" He pouted.
She turned only slightly to let him see her eyes, pinched into slits. "Ugh, good morning. Now tell me, what's going on?"
"Come over here girl, I'll tell you."
Sabrina balanced her head on his firm abdomen with her white legs folded, one on top of the other. George put his left arm over her and placed it under her buttocks. He traced her skin with his fingers. "I want to take the job Quince has for me but you know my dad."
Sabrina did not move a muscle. She knew Mr. Pius Price very well, he never really liked her and she didn't like him much too.
"I don't care what my dad says anymore, I'm going to do it, and I’m off to Harvard Law soon so I'll be out of his sight, out of your sight. I think I have to start doing things for myself, you know what I mean? Have me in mind."
"Yeah, I get you," she turned to look up at him. "I'll miss you."
"You said you're going back to college, right?" George asked. Sabrina dropped out of college when her mother fell ill and needed someone to take care of her.
"I'll do that while you do yours," she said quietly. "You're going all the way out of the state but I still have to stay here, I wish I could leave this all behind one day.
He kissed her forehead, one day you will. He cringed knowing that was the last time he would see her. They both knew this but none of them liked to talk about it.
...
Quincey Dough stood his tall and slender body by the doorstep of Dough's company building, shook hands with George as if they weren't best of friends, and motioned to his dad. "This is George, a lawyer in the making, he's willing to join the marketing department and he will do so well."
"He will, won't he?" Quincy's father laughed. "All these lawyers like to get themselves into a lot of trouble, running after potential clients, finding their way into hospitals, mortuaries; you will see them first in a car accident. They can market anywhere."
George did not like this stereotypical definition but he was sure that he was not going to be such a hungry lawyer. I'm just taking this job to finance MY own dream. He thought.
Quincy ushered him into a room with papers lined on the table, after a brief interview session, George signed the papers and was hired. "I have nothing to ask you, George, I know you will do this well and my dad trusts me, don't disappoint us."
It was an investment company that was, at that time, Quincy's start-up business. George did not know much about marketing but he knew he would have to spend extra hours up at night with his law books and marketing materials so that he can prove to haughty Mr. Dough, what he was made of and still graduate tops, as always.
In a few months, he had earned himself a reputation at Dough's investments. He qualified for promotions after promotions while juggling law school in the background. Mr. Plus was not pleased by this, he saw it as a distraction from his academics but George cooled him down. "Now you can get yourself some nice suits and jewelry for mum, see this as my gift to you for all your effort." He said and assured his dad that the money he made was only going to go into financing his dream.
His promise to his dad was forgotten the year that Law school and Business school was history to both George and Quincy when he made it into the management level. His grades never dropped. George spent his mornings at the gym where his company covered the registration fees, afternoons in libraries, building his ability to earn more by reading, and evenings in his office at Dough's investment which was now well on its way to becoming global. His ascent to the top was envied by all his colleagues and soon his name was on billboards and newspapers; Youngest Billionaire to be made in the Dough's Lines of Businesses.
He tried to call Sabrina a couple of times but received no replies; he even visited her house only to find out that her mother moved out a couple of months ago. He had better things to worry about than that. He got into his car and drove to the airport. He and his team were opening up offices in Canada. The business was booming. He could do without seeing her florid face and feeling her swollen lap. In fact, he could do without any woman. He was George Price, a billionaire.
CHAPTER THREE
George's personal assistant, Cornelius, placed all his files in his briefcase and flipped the lid shut. There was no time to waste; journalists from Forbes Magazine were on their way. The professionally dressed young man eased himself out of the office as Mr. Price settled matters with an investor on the phone.
After a series of yeses and okays, Cornelius knocked smartly on his door. "Your father is here sir."
"Here!" George was not willing to see him.
"Yes sir, he has been waiting for eleven minutes."
“Serves him right for showing up without prior notice. Show him in."
Cornelius disappeared and appeared later with Mr. Pius.
Mr. Plus did not wait until Cornelius was out the door. "It's okay, you've gotten what you want, now isn't it time to get back on track?"
"Hey dad, slow down. What is the topic of this conversation?
"Are you serious?" Pius furrowed his eyebrows. "George, your mother, and I invested all the years we lived since we had you into your life, making you a smart young man trained with manners and brains and skills. You should be grateful to us. You can say that you are but your actions prove otherwise. Your mother and I kept calling you for days and what do we get? Your PA—"
"I was sincerely busy, we're setting up in Germany and I need to it that everything is organized before the D-Day."
"That's none of my business George, all I know is that you wouldn't return your calls and I had to come myself. The last time we spoke you said you hadn't forgotten about our agreement to establish a firm. C'mon son, are you going to waste all those years of college and Law School. I know you still have it somewhere in you."
"Look, dad, if I leave this job at such a time as this, it will imply that I'm a selfish man, after all, that they have done for me here, I can't take off at such a time as this."
"That's what you said at the last time," Pius said, adjusting his glasses.
"What can I say? They keep me busy and this is what pays my bills and yours. You and Ethel should be grateful."
"Oh we are son, she sends her regards," Mr. Pius leaned forward. "She also asked me to remind you precisely that you have no real business that belongs to you. So when you retire, all you have is the pension coming from this company, nothing's really yours, no company in your
name, and certainly no children bearing your name. This is why you need to get married and start a family, open your business for your children."
"Are you listening to yourself dad? No real business? Only pension? I am a billionaire for God's sake! I don't have the time right now to give you grandchildren, I have no interest in women, but I will, someday, before the closing of my life, maybe." George chuckled. "Relax dad, I've got this."
Mr. Pius got up and walked briskly to the door.
"See you on Thanksgiving," George called after him.
Cornelius barged in. "Sir you have an interview with Forbes magazine in ten minutes."
"Great."
CHAPTER FOUR
The call came in at exactly 7:30 pm Central European Standard Time. George had to excuse himself from to table of German investors to find a quiet place in the building to receive the call. It was Ethel his mother, her voice sounded shaky so George had to calm her down. "It's your dad, he's—he's."
"He's what?"
Mrs. Price sniffed on like she couldn't get a hold of herself.
"Mum, what's wrong, do I need to call him instead?"
"He's just been involved in a road accident and has been taken into the intensive care unit.'
'What?' was all George could say before he began to pace up and down, talking inaudibly like his mother.
"Get down here," she managed to say.
Whatever meeting George was having with investors in Germany was put on hold. Quincy did not like this and so did the investors. Quincy tried to reach him a million times when he was on the plane but finally got to his PA and expressed his displeasure in George’s amateur behavior.
The plane was most uncomfortable for George, even though he flew in business class, he still couldn't quite be himself during the flight, and no position seemed to be comfortable. After alighting from the airplane, his personal chauffeur stood holding the car door open.
