Battling the Billionaire

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Battling the Billionaire Page 13

by Kate Ashgrove


  Devon clenched his jaw.

  Charles sighed. “She’s manipulating you, dummy. I’m sure this is very new to you, and it’s hard to resist a pretty girl with a sad story. But you’re a big boy now. You’re not the kid who ran off to Europe to cook snails. I know it’s been a lot of pressure to inherit your father’s legacy, and it’s easy at your young age to let other people influence you, break away your confidence. But don’t forget that your father created this company to ease the pain of others. It’s the one thing you can be proud of. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

  Devon shook his head. “I don’t need any more speeches from you, Charles, and I think I’m beginning to recognize what manipulation looks like.”

  “Well, at least I finally taught you something.” A wry smile lifted the corner of Charles’s mouth. “So is that why you’re here? You want to bargain? What is it you want, my vacation home in Bermuda? It’s nice to see you playing hardball. Makes me feel proud, like I did something right.”

  Devon clenched his fists, trying hard to keep from raising his voice. “I’m afraid I can’t be bought, Charles.”

  “Doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t have anything on me. It’s a bluff. They teach you how to play poker overseas, too?”

  “I’ve found someone to testify that they were instructed by you and my father to deny claims from lower income people. This conversation is over, as is your place in this company.”

  The smile still played on Charles’s lips, but his eyes were steel as he stared Devon down. “I was practically running this place when you were in diapers, and while you were prancing around the globe baking cakes, and you think you can just walk in here and do away with me? Young man, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  “You’re right. Turns out I never knew you at all, Chuck.” Devon turned to leave.

  “Why do you think I called you back, when I could have just stepped in and started running the company myself?”

  Devon paused, turning around.

  “It’s important to have a fall guy.” Charles’s tone was lighter now. “And I figured you were weak enough that I would be running things anyway. Too bad you didn’t hold off and learn a little more from me. We could have had a good run.”

  Devon walked toward Charles, his steps easy, his expression hard. “If you’re trying to intimidate me, Charles, it’s not going to work. You see, I’ve already made the first move, set everything in motion. This was simply a courtesy call. After all, we’re practically family.”

  Devon turned and walked out. But he’d hadn’t made it ten steps when Peyton stopped him. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry the party was a disaster. And after everything you did for that girl.” She caressed his arm. “But don’t worry, we’ll put a good spin on it. It won’t take any effort at all to make that girl look like trailer trash.” She smiled.

  Devon’s chest burned. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Devy, I don’t know how that ridiculous little thing managed to worm her way into your heart, but I want you to know I’m here for you.” She moved in closer. “And I don’t hold it against you. You and I have something special. We have history.”

  Devon’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped away from her, all too aware of the unprofessional scene Peyton was making. “It’s funny you should say history. As of today you and your father are no longer employed by TrueLife Insurance. We’ve decided to take this company in a different direction.”

  Peyton pulled away from him. She looked him up and down as if he were something she’d pulled off the bottom of her shoe. “You can’t do that. You’re nothing without us.”

  “I was nothing with you. But you might say I’ve found myself. It’s very liberating, and I have you to thank for it, Peyton. If you and Charles hadn’t pressured me to go out with Jenna, I might never have become the CEO this company needs.”

  Devon glanced around as Peyton huffed toward her father’s office. Most of the employees went quickly back to work, as if they hadn’t been hanging onto every word of his conversation with Peyton. But a couple of them gave him a nod or a relieved smile. Devon had a feeling there were plenty of good people at TrueLife Insurance, people who had been waiting a long time for change to happen.

  Devon beelined it for the elevator. He paused, texting security to escort the dastardly duo out of the building. When the door opened, a tall, gangly kid stood inside, carrying a box.

  “Reuben?” Devon hurried inside the elevator, closing the door quickly behind him. He was certain the conversation that was about to take place would not be conducive to his newfound confidence or the respect of his colleagues. It would be about Jenna, and when it came to her, Devon was just a confused kid all over again.

  Reuben looked at him anxiously. “You gonna take him? I’m sure Jenna wants him if you don’t. She seemed kind of attached to him.”

  Devon hurried to take the box. So that’s why it had taken her so long to send the dog over. He was sure her attachment had nothing to do with the little dog being the reason they’d met. He ran his hand over Romeo’s tiny head, remembering that night. It seemed there was nothing that didn’t bring Jenna to mind, along with an ache that started deep in his chest and spread through him.

  Devon balanced the box as he tried to reach into his pocket. Reuben waved dismissively. “Naw, she took care of it.” Reuben stared at the elevator door, as if he couldn’t wait for it to open. Finally it did. He looked relieved as he hurried out onto the first floor.

  Devon followed quickly after him. “Reuben, is something wrong?”

  Reuben turned around. He hesitated, then stood tall, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah. Why’d you do it, sir? Jenna’s a good woman. I guess she was right. Money can’t buy everything. What you did—it wasn’t a classy move.”

  Devon stood there with his mouth open. He knew he’d screwed up a lot recently. But he wasn’t sure exactly which screw-up Reuben was referring to.

  “Dating someone as a publicity stunt is low, man. You don’t take a girl out because she makes you look good. You go out with her because she makes you feel good. Because she makes you a better person. And because she deserves someone who will make her feel good, too.”

  Devon felt the color drain from his face. He gripped the box tightly to keep it from dropping to the floor. “She knew about that?” His voice was nearly lost in the large lobby.

  Reuben turned his lips up in disgust. “Yeah, some chick told her at the party. Good thing, too. She deserves better.”

  “Yes, she does.” Devon watched Reuben walk away.

  He dropped his head, feeling drained of all the confidence his clean-up operation on the top floor had inspired. He wanted to go back up there and give Peyton another piece of his mind. She must have relished her opportunity to tell Jenna that Devon was only using her. But he couldn’t blame Peyton or Charles anymore. He was the one who had hurt Jenna, and he was going to have to figure out how to get her back.

  Chapter 25

  Jenna

  Gertie and Anita walked into the trailer. They’d been practically inseparable since Gertie moved into Anita’s place. “You ladies ready to get on out of here?” Gertie asked.

  “Just about. I can’t find my shoes.” Jenna stuck her hand under the sofa, feeling for her heeled sandals. They were the only ones she had that would go with the black dress, which Tali had loaned her again. She would like to have bought a new dress, but although Anita’s care no longer took every cent Jenna had, things were still tight, seeing as Jenna was planning to start school next semester.

  “Jenna,” Anita said, “I think those red heels are still here. The last time you borrowed them they somehow didn’t make it back to my closet, so they got left behind. They would look marvelous with that dress.”

  “They do look marvelous with that dress.” Tali beamed. “Get them and let’s go.”

  Jenna hurried to her mother’s old closet, where she had eventually deposited the shoes,
and slipped them on. She paused a moment at the mirror, remembering the first time she’d sneaked away in them. So much had changed since then.

  “Come on, Jenna!” Tali shouted.

  Jenna flipped the light off and hurried out the door.

  When they’d all settled into Tali’s car, Gertie patted her hair. “It’s been years since I went out for a night on the town.”

  “So is this like that pay-if-you-can restaurant Jon Bon Jovi has?” Tali asked.

  “I don’t know who Bon Jovi is,” Gertie said. “They’ve kept it pretty hush-hush. All I know is it’s some kind of upscale food kitchen, whatever that means. They’re supposed to have excellent chefs. And tonight is opening night, so it’s extra fancy.”

  “Then why are they letting us in?” Tali asked.

  Gertie shrugged. “They gave tickets to some of the regulars at the food kitchen. They wanted me and Jenna there, after that night that made such a big splash—not that it had anything to do with us.” She gave Jenna a pointed look.

  “Since we’re on the subject,” Anita said, “have you given him a call?”

  Jenna sighed, turning to look out the window.

  “I was just asking. I mean, after that press conference I thought everything would be fixed up in a jiffy. Don’t tell me you didn’t have feelings for him.”

  “I already told you, Mom. He didn’t have feelings for me.” The rims of her eyes burned, but Jenna kept herself together. She had been as astonished as anyone when Devon had gone public with all of TrueLife’s dirty laundry. Charles’s face was now pasted to the dartboards of support groups around the country, and Devon had been cleared of any wrongdoing. Jenna had misjudged him after all. He was a courageous, mostly decent person, who cared about the suffering of others. Just not her suffering.

  She had to admit, it made her feel better somehow, knowing that Devon really was the person she’d thought he was. She could even think about him without wanting to chuck something through a window. There was a warmth that came from knowing she had helped him through his journey, even if it came with a side of hurt pride and pain.

  She didn’t regret any of it. So much good had come from their time together. And if it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be on the road to a fulfilling career, something she never thought she’d have. She just prayed that when the time came to use some of those connections Devon had set her up with, they’d find the zombie uprising bold and imaginative. She could always hope.

  Gertie leaned over the seat, pointing in frustration until Tali managed to find the crowded parking lot near the restaurant. When they got out and headed toward the old brick building, Jenna felt like they were walking the red carpet. People stood on either side with cameras, hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on and who was going in.

  “Hey! I think that is Bon Jovi!” Tali squealed, pointing to a man walking in ahead of them. He turned and smiled at Tali, and she held onto Jenna’s arm as if she were in danger of melting.

  Inside, they were taken to a table set with linens and a small bouquet of roses. They all sat down, and an impeccably dressed waiter brought them menus.

  Jenna did a double-take. “Reuben? Is that you?”

  He grinned broadly. “I’m moving up in the world. Of course, normally these jobs are for the homeless. I’m just here temporarily. But the boss thinks after I get some experience, I might be able to get a position at Alastaire’s while I get through trade-school. He’s even helping me—Sorry. I forgot I’m here to take your order. I recommend the salmon.” He raised one heavy brow dramatically, his face suddenly very serious.

  “This is one of those places that serve different things every night,” Anita said, pointing at the menu.

  “That’s because the menu is planned based on donations from local grocery stores.” Reuben smiled again. “I mean, this place has plenty of money backing it up, but that way less food goes to waste. It’s a win-win.”

  They browsed the menu, and Jenna ordered the salmon on Reuben’s recommendation. While they waited, they examined the crowd. They recognized a few celebrity faces and local politicians, but they also saw a few people from their local food kitchen.

  Jenna’s gaze landed on a well-dressed woman with familiar brown eyes. Jenna smiled and looked away quickly, her heart racing. She shouldn’t be surprised to see a wealthy and influential woman like Jaqueline here, but she hadn’t expected it. The idea of Devon showing up and joining his mother—or worse, walking in with Peyton on his arm—made Jenna squirm in her chair. She’d imagined often enough what she’d do if she ever saw Devon face-to-face again, but actually living through it would be a different matter.

  Jenna’s eyes kept unwillingly traveling back to Jaqueline, so she sighed with relief when Reuben brought their food. There were oohs and aahs around the table as he set down the plates. The presentation was elegant, but she soon found that the taste was unforgettable.

  Dessert was even better. They had crème brûlée, and Reuben looked thrilled to have the honor of toasting it with a small torch. As they sat, quietly trying to commit every flavor to memory, Reuben came back to ask how they’d enjoyed their meal.

  “If was fabulous. We’d like to meet the chef,” Tali said, her voice thick with a snobbish accent.

  Reuben stepped back, his eyes wide. “I—I can ask.” Then he scurried away.

  “I was just kidding,” Tali giggled. “Although I hope he’s single. I could use a man around the house who can cook.” Then her laughter stopped short, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Then again, he might be more Jenna’s type.”

  Jenna turned, her curiosity nearly bubbling over. Her heart stuttered to a halt when she saw Devon walking toward them in a neat white coat. He had his hands behind his back, his head ducked down. But when he approached, he looked up at her, his eyes warm, like the perfectly toasted crème brûlée.

  “Devon!” Anita nearly shouted. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  Tali’s expression was tight, and she looked at Jenna as if she was waiting for permission to deck him. Jenna shook her head slightly.

  “So this is your place?” Jenna asked. “What about that billion dollar company you run?”

  “It hasn’t been easy, starting a project as large as this while managing a company that is in desperate need of stability. But as important as it is to me to put TrueLife on the right track, I needed to live my own life as well. I decided that the company will never be my life.”

  “I always knew you’d amount to something.” Gertie’s eyes sparked with mischief.

  Devon laughed. “Of course, I’m not able to be involved as much as I’d like to be right now, but I get to do what I love, even if I can only cook a night or two a week.” He brought his hands together, twisting them together. “I was reminded recently that if a person has the opportunity to pursue something he loves, he should take it.” He gestured to the room. “That’s what this is.” Then he looked at Jenna, and in her mind she was back on that bench, lost in his eyes as she leaned in closer. “That’s what this is,” he said firmly, his expression pleading, and yet resolved.

  The look was too familiar. It was too soon for Jenna to be un-phased by it. In fact, it occurred to her as her heart raced and heat crept into her cheeks that she might never truly be over Devon.

  She stood up quickly, looking desperately at the rest of the table, silently urging them to follow. Gertie and Anita took their time, their eyes darting back and forth between Jenna and Devon.

  Jenna held out her hand to Devon, feeling the awkwardness of the situation as he stared at it. Finally he shook it, and she pulled away quickly, trying to push down the memories that had resurfaced at his touch.

  “Congratulations. It sounds like you’ve managed to get everything you wanted. Give Peyton my best.” She smiled stiffly, hurrying to find her coat.

  The rest of her party followed more slowly than she would have liked. She stood outside the entrance, gulping in the crisp air as if it could alleviat
e the sharp pain in her chest. Seeing Devon again was harder than she’d imagined, and some of the bitterness seeped back into her heart. She was happy for Devon, but if that was supposed to be an apology for using her and breaking her heart, it wasn’t good enough. She needed to hear the words.

  When the door opened she moved aside, letting Gertie, Anita, and Tali pass her by, and ignoring the concerned looks they sent her way. They walked by the curious bystanders, who had just lowered their cameras, apparently satisfied that their party was not of any great consequence.

  “Jenna!”

  She turned around. Devon paused outside the door. Then he headed toward her. “I don’t have everything I want.”

  She swallowed, not sure whether to run or stand there like an idiot. Since her feet didn’t seem to want to move, her decision was made. A few flashes went off, illuminating Devon’s white jacket, and his slightly curled hair.

  “I haven’t seen Peyton since the day I fired her along with her father,” Devon said. “She hasn’t meant anything to me since my blond tips grew out. Did she tell you—”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t matter now.” Jenna shook her head. “I don’t understand what you want. What more can you have to gain from bringing me here? You did the right thing with TrueLife. Pat yourself on the back. There’s no need to feel guilty or whatever this is. Although,” she took a step forward, “an apology would be nice.”

  Devon’s eyes misted, and he blinked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to Charles. But you have to believe, even knowing you had it in for me, I wanted the excuse to see you again. Winnifred left an impression that wasn’t easily forgotten. Ask my dry cleaner.”

  Jenna’s lips turned up slightly. She willed her feet not to budge. But she could already feel herself giving in to Devon again, wanting to trust him.

  He cautiously took a step toward her. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. She kept her fingers wrapped around her purse strap to resist the urge.

  Her eyes darted to the group of bystanders around them, who were hanging on their every word. They had their cameras poised, waiting for the perfect moment to press the shutter button. If they thought she was going to give them something to plaster all over the internet, they were sadly mistaken, even if TrueLife wasn’t the enemy anymore.

 

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