Billionaire's Pursuit

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Billionaire's Pursuit Page 5

by Sloan Storm

“Don’t let it slip your mind again. After all, if I can’t trust you to get my name right, how can I trust you with anything?”

  The flex in her arm softened in my grip as she stared into my eyes. Her mouth drifted open as she started to speak. “You can, I promise.”

  “I can what?” I replied.

  “Trust me. You can trust me.”

  Without a word, I smiled, nodded and released her arm from my grasp. After, I turned my back to her and walked back across the room to get my belongings. Ten minutes later, we were in the back of the limo headed to the studio. Since my correction of her in my suite, Maddie hadn’t said much of anything.

  Unlike our other rides together in the car, this time she sat to my right. Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed her sorting through a small stack of papers, which she kept in a manila folder.

  “Everything in order for this evening?”

  She held a pen between her lips as she leafed through the paperwork in her lap. After I’d finished with my question, she paused for a moment and glanced in my direction.

  “Mmm, hmm,” she replied.

  “Good.” I said, shifting my gaze out the car window. “I should be done with my meetings no later than eight o’clock tonight. Where are we having dinner?”

  Just then, I sensed all motion from her cease. I allowed my head to drift back to the right just enough to see her fidget in my peripheral vision.

  “Um…” she muttered. “We are having dinner?”

  I turned my head back and looked at her. “Yes, that’s what I said. Why is that a surprise? With whom were you expecting me to have dinner?”

  Maddie hesitated for a moment before she winced. “Well, I sort of already…”

  I angled my upper body in her direction. “Already what?”

  She folded her hands together and placed them on top of the stack of papers. “I already arranged for an escort for you tonight. Her name is Lynne.” She paused for moment and rifled through the pages before producing a photo.

  Turning in my direction, she offered the picture to me. “Here, this is her. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Taking the picture from Maddie, I shook my head as I spun it around and got a good look. I glanced at it for an instant before I turned it sideways, tore it, then turned it sideways once more, tearing it again before I dropped it to the floor in eight pieces.

  “Uh!” Maddie scoffed. “Why did you do that? Wasn’t she pretty enough for you? Isn’t that what you want?”

  I glared at her as she looked at me, dumbfounded.

  What the hell was wrong with this woman? Didn’t she know how fucking stunning she was? Why would I want some bimbo from an escort service when I’ve got her?

  “Greyson, I don’t understand what is going on,” she said as she leaned over to try and pick up the bits of the shredded photo from the floor of the limo.

  Before she could grab them, I placed my size twelve shoe over most of them, blocking her.

  “I’ve already told you what I want, Maddie. Don’t make me repeat myself any longer. You will be accompanying me, tonight and every night, for the rest of my trip here. Am I making myself absolutely clear on that point?”

  After failing to retrieve the bits of Lynne’s image from beneath my feet, Maddie leaned back into the seat next to me and nodded her head. “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry. I just thought you didn’t really mean it when you told me that before.”

  Satisfied she’d received my message, I interlaced my fingers in my lap. “I always mean exactly what I say, Maddie. Life is too short to mince words, especially in matters of business… and beauty.”

  I noticed her head turn a fraction in my direction before she spoke. “Um, okay,” she replied. “I’ll make the necessary changes. Eight o’clock you said?”

  As she finished speaking, we pulled onto the lot of the studio and the limo began to slow. I ran my fingers through my hair and glanced at her.

  “Yes. Eight o’clock. And not one minute later.”

  MADDIE

  When the limousine pulled out of the film studio’s parking lot, I had the sudden realization I was in the midst of my first cash flow crisis as a business owner. Chewing my lower lip with my upper teeth, I took a mental inventory of what I’d spent Greyson’s entire deposit on and it didn’t take long to realize where it went.

  Aside from all the money I’d put down around town to secure the long list of things he rejected when he got here, I was in deep with the additional payment I made to secure Lynne’s escort services. Unfortunately for me, the closest she would get to Greyson Sinclair was the sole of the ten thousand dollar loafers he used to squash her face with not fifteen minutes earlier.

  Frantic, I whipped out my phone, opened the calculator app and did some quick math. After subtracting more zeros than I cared to mention, I couldn’t believe the number I was left with wouldn’t even cover the damn limo for the rest of the trip!

  Ugh! I hadn’t even been in business for three days yet and already I was broke!

  As if all that wasn’t bad enough, I had absolutely nothing to wear. Like, zilch.

  And Greyson wanted me to be his escort!

  I groaned and dropped my cell phone on the car seat next to me. It landed with a hard bounce and as I watched it flip end over end, I noticed it had ‘butt dialed’, via the car seat, the last person on Earth I wanted to talk to at the moment. In the next instant, it came to rest display side up on the floor of the limo and mocked me in bright blue torment as the words, ‘Connecting to Tray Bay’ flashed across the screen.

  It’s Trevor’s pet name, okay? It’s a long story. Just--don't ask.

  “Shit!” I yelped, as I scrambled to grab it and hang up before he answered. Reaching for it in a near panic, the neatly organized manila envelope in my lap went flying and with it every shred of paper relating to Greyson’s schedule. The sheets floated down from random directions and at strange angles, thwarting my attempt to get at the phone in time to disconnect it.

  After what I guessed was the second or third ring, at least, I snatched the traitorous device from the floor of the car and hung it up faster than a toupee moves from a bald man’s head in the middle of a hurricane. However, just prior to disconnecting it, I swore I heard the tinny sound of the word ‘hello’ uttered through the phone’s small speakers.

  Clutching my chest, I leaned back in the seat. I whispered a barely audible plea to the heavens, hoping against hope good fortune would shine down on me, for once. I don’t think I managed a single breath for the next ten or fifteen seconds as I closed my eyes and waited for Trevor to call me back. I knew he’d use any excuse to do it, especially if it involved me calling him first.

  “Please… no,” I whispered as time crept by, one agonizing second after the next.

  After about a minute I realized, for now anyway, I’d managed to avoid that nightmare. As fast as I could, I refocused my attention on straightening the mess I’d created and got back to figuring out how to pay for the remainder of Greyson's trip.

  At this point, anything short of black market organ sales sounded reasonable. Channeling Katy, I swept every stray piece of paper and renegade electronics together with a final flourish, hugged them all to my chest and sank back into the firm, cool leather of the car seat.

  Okay, Maddie. Take a breath. Think. Look at the facts and focus.

  Once I’d calmed down, the facts as they stood were not looking good for me. Pursing my lips, I scanned the interior of the limousine and my eyes came to rest on several bottles of liquor. Several pages clung to my clammy skin as I checked the time.

  “Damn, not even noon yet.”

  I mulled over my ever-dwindling options for several more seconds before finally rationalizing it was five o’clock somewhere. Placing my stack of papers and my phone on the seat next to me, I leaned forward and looked at the labels adorning the crystal liquor bottles until at last, I came across one that read, “Rum”.

  Grabbing a rocks glass, I poured a healthy shot a
nd sunk back into the limo seat once again. I raised the glass to my lips and as I did the thick, heady aroma of liquor hit my nasal passages, singeing them. I winced for an instant before bringing the glass to my lips and tossing the caramel-colored liquid back in a single motion. Streaks of fiery vanilla and cinnamon raced down the back of my throat, providing me much needed warmth and relief as it made its way to my stomach.

  “Desperate times,” I muttered.

  Placing the booze back in the rack, I rapped on the divider window separating me from Armando. A split second later, the window whined as it started to lower.

  “Yes, ma’am?” he said. “Are we going to pick up Miss Lynne?”

  I glanced out the window and licked my lips. A final hint of the rum’s sting settled on top of my taste buds.

  “No, Miss Lynne is out. Miss Madeline is in.”

  “Ma’am?” he said with a rising tone in his voice.

  “It’s nothing, Armando,” I began. “Just take me back to my apartment.”

  “Right away, ma’am.”

  I watched as the divider swallowed the brightness of the road in front of us. The path that lay ahead was no longer as clear for me, that much was certain.

  MADDIE

  Still slightly buzzed, I arrived back at my apartment a little after noon, walked in and tossed my purse on the kitchen counter. I hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning and aside from figuring out what the hell I was going to do about my financial situation, the only thing on my mind was eating before I blacked out.

  I yanked open the fridge and scanned the first couple of rows for anything I could whip up in a hurry. Grabbing a flimsy plastic container half-filled with Katy’s leftover meal of pasta and meat sauce, I slid it into the microwave and started the oven. As it began to cook, I reached my hand into my bag to grab my phone. I had to at least try and get the money I'd paid for Lynne back or I was seriously screwed.

  After I located the phone, I turned it over and swiped the screen to unlock it. The first thing I saw was Trevor’s number staring me right in the face. As the aroma of tomato sauce and savory beef began to fill my nostrils, a frustrating idea popped into my head.

  No, I am not calling him. No way. I can do this on my own.

  The last thing I needed right now was to embarrass myself with a midday drunk dial. Okay maybe I wasn’t drunk but a buzzed dial wouldn’t be much better. However, no sooner had I talked myself out of it, than the universe sensed my decision and immediately flipped it on me. For as I held the phone in my hand, Trevor called and a battle between my better judgment and my liquor-tainted desire to give him a tongue-lashing began.

  Ring.

  “Shit,” I cursed.

  Ring.

  “Don’t do it, I said, as I shook my head. “Let it go to voice mail.”

  Ring.

  My rational mind scolded me. You don’t have any other options, Maddie. Grey will never understand or tolerate you not being able to pay for what he wants. You’ve got to pick up. Talk to Trevor. Ask him. And be polite about it!

  Ring.

  Now goddamn it! The phone goes to voicemail after the fifth ring!!!

  Pressing the talk button as I raised the phone to my ear, I pinched my eyes shut as hard as I could and answered just in time.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Madds.”

  God, I hated that nickname. I didn’t use to, of course. You know, when I was ‘in love’. But now ugh, it was like he used it like I was his friend.

  A buddy!

  “Hey,” I deadpanned.

  “I saw you called me earlier. What’s up, babe?”

  Taking measured steps out of the kitchen towards the living room, I fought the urge to curse him out. I had to, because I didn’t know another person in town who could come up with the money I needed. It was Trevor and his big time studio executive’s salary, or nothing.

  “I… I didn’t call you,” I replied.

  “Um, yeah, ya did. I’ve got your number in my missed calls.”

  “It was an accident. A butt dial.”

  “Okay, whatever Madds. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t in any trouble.”

  “Bullshit. And, don’t call me that.”

  “Hey, what is your problem? I don’t understand why you are acting like this.”

  “Uh! I don’t understand why you need me to explain it to you, Trevor. Why do you care so much anyway? You sure didn’t when you dumped me.”

  Trevor exhaled into the receiver. “I’ll always care about you, Maddie.”

  In the early stages of the battle between my bank account’s need for money and my heart’s need for justice, the latter had the upper hand as I squeezed the phone in my palm.

  “Well, you know what irks me the most Trevor? Hmm? It’s that I stood by you while you were making your way out here for five years and as soon as you start doing well, you break it off. Once you knew my acting wasn’t going anywhere, you dropped me for Tammy.”

  “Tanya.”

  “Whatever!” I yelled. “Not the point, Trevor.”

  “What is the point then?”

  “You owe me.”

  As I finished speaking, Trevor laughed so hard into the phone I pulled it away from my ear.

  “I owe you?” he said with incredulity.

  By this point, I’d assumed a half-seated position on the arm of the couch.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “What do you mean? Like money?”

  I’d swerved right into getting out of the situation I was in, but it wouldn’t be a cheap fix. We’re talking a good chunk of cash here and Trevor wasn't the generous type. I started to open my mouth with the hope that whatever came out would be persuasive enough for him to consider doing it. But, before I could utter a single word, he interrupted me.

  “I want to know who the guy is.”

  “Who? What guy?” I said, dumbfounded.

  “The guy you are riding all over town with in the limo. I heard about what happened on line at the club last night. You’re not the only one with connections you know.”

  “It’s no one,” I lied. “Anyway, don’t change the subject on me, Trevor.”

  “I’m not,” he said. “You want something from me, presumably money, and I want something from you--his name. In a negotiation, which is what we’re doing right now, both parties have to give a little to get what they want. I have something you want and you have something I want, Madds.”

  “I told you to quit calling me that damn it!” I exclaimed. “And why would you want information about him? I started a new business and he's my first client. Not that it matters.”

  “You started a business?”

  “Yes, I had to, after you left me. Don’t sound so surprised. I’m doing well.”

  “Yeah,” he scoffed. “Sure sounds like it.”

  I almost, almost, almost lost it when he said that to me. Instead, I managed to hold my tongue long enough for him to get the enjoyment he wanted before he spoke up once more.

  “It’s real simple. You tell me who he is or I hang up right now.”

  Without any hesitation, I replied, “Fine. Hang up then. The only thing I’ll tell you is he is rich. A million, no a billion, times richer than you could ever hope to be.”

  Trevor roared with laughter again and like before, I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second or two. As I returned it to the side of my head, he asked, “Wait, so your client is a millionaire, no wait, a freakin’ billionaire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, so you’re telling me you’re working for a man who has more money than God and you need to borrow some from me because you screwed up? This is rich.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I sighed. “You don't understand how my client is. Look, I don’t have time to explain any of this to you right now, Trevor, okay? I’ll get my money from him and pay you back. I don’t understand what the problem is here.”

  “The problem is you’re acting like an entitled bitch. That’s the
problem.”

  “What! Screw you, Trevor!”

  “No, screw you,” he threatened. His tone took a firm, chippy twist as he continued. “I’m not giving you any money, Madds. That’s the deal, like it or not.”

  “Stop calling me that, you sonofabitch!”

  Trevor chuckled. I couldn’t tell if it was at my outburst or at his own sense of self-satisfaction. Either way, I didn’t care for it one bit.

  “Look, if you change your mind, you know where to find me and if you can’t remember how, just ask your butt to make the call for you.”

  And then, before I uttered another sound, he hung up on me.

  “Shit!” I yelled as I slammed my phone down on living room table.

  For several seconds I remained motionless while I tried to process the implications of Trevor’s refusal. Just then, a bizarre odor of melting plastic and burnt tomato caught my attention.

  Holy crap! The microwave!

  Frantic, I ran to the kitchen to see the entire room shrouded in an acrid white cloud. I grabbed a kitchen towel and covered my nose and mouth as I walked to the oven. As I opened the door, a disgusting melted pile of meat sauce, noodles and plastic oozed out.

  “Uuunnnhh!!!!” I groaned into the towel, my eyes beginning to water from exposure to the toxic cloud that hung heavy in the kitchen.

  Maybe Trevor was right.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  Nothing about this whole plan had worked out from the beginning. It was just one misstep after another. I shook my head in disgust as I realized the clean-up chore ahead of me in the kitchen and bit my lip in frustration at the idea that the situation with Greyson was probably beyond repair as well.

  GREY

  As much as I enjoyed doing deals, I think I liked the process of negotiation even more. From an early age I learned that to win in business you had to have an edge. And, most important of all, never allow the person you’re dealing with to discover it. Because if they do, you’ve already lost.

  That philosophy hadn’t let me down yet and I had no intention of changing it. Sure, I was aggressive and tough, but I was also fair. It was the same way in romantic matters. ‘Love is a battlefield’ as the saying goes. Above all else, I prided myself on patience and being able to walk away from any deal if the outcome wasn’t what I wanted, romantic or otherwise.

 

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