Obsessed

by Ashton Blackthorne

  “Are you kidding? When was the last time I took a day off for anything? I’m fine.”

  Amber nodded. She knew I wouldn’t take the bait.

  “That’s good to hear, Ash because after what I have to say you may not be feeling so well.” Amber pulled out a copy of the Wall Street Journal.

  I took it from and scanned the first page.

  “Holy shit! What the hell?” My eyes widened at the company I was planning to buy’s stock price which had plummeted to record lows.

  Amber shook her head sadly.

  “I don’t know how this is happening. Obviously, someone knew that you wanted Vitalife, but who?”

  “Amber, if I knew that person would be in a momentous amount of pain right now. I went to Grayson he claimed he doesn’t know anything.”

  “Jeremy wouldn’t try to weasel this one away from you, would he?” Amber asked in a hushed tone.

  “He’s not smart enough.” I stood up carrying my cup over to the picture window overlooking downtown Manhattan.

  “No, whoever did this is smart. And they know me very well. This was an inside deal.”

  I sighed turning to Amber.

  “Get Martin Stahli’s secretary on the phone and schedule a lunch meeting for today. I think I may know who’s behind this. If I’m right, your assessment of my day getting worse will unfortunately be accurate.”

  Amber nodded as she walked to her desk.

  Finishing my coffee, I sat down and sighed.

  How the hell could I be facing one of the biggest losses of my career after such a fantastic night like last night?

  “Ash, Martin will meet you at 12:30 at Del Frisco’s.”

  “Thanks.”

  As I prepared for my lunch meeting the door to my office flew open. Jeremy stood there his fists clenched, his face bright red. His chubby face huffed and puffed as he was obviously out of breath from racing down the hall.

  “What is it, Jeremy? I’m getting ready to leave.”

  He tossed another copy of the Wall Street Journal at me.

  “What the fuck, Blackthorne? I thought this was in the bag. This deal is worth half a billion dollars!”

  I stood up, buttoning my suit coat.

  “Relax, Jeremy. I’ve got an idea of who’s behind this.”

  “Who? Who is it? You told me you’d already talked to Grayson. Who the hell else has the kind of money to buy these stocks out from under us?”

  “The guy I’m going to have lunch with right now.”

  Pulling at his thinning dark hair, Jeremy’s eyes widened.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “Did I say that?”

  “If you were going to tell me you would have by now. So, who is it?”

  I shook my head smiling.

  “It’s under control. Let me do my job.”

  As I went for the door, he stepped in front of me. Jeremy has always irritated going back to our first meeting at Harvard, but since his father took me on as a partner he’d really become a thorn in my side. I thought it was because his father looked at me as the son he’d always wanted and as his successor not Jeremy.

  But that wasn’t my problem.

  “Jeremy, step aside. I have business to attend to.”

  Like a spoiled child, he stood in front of me refusing to move.

  “Tell me, Ash.”

  “I don’t have to tell you shit. Now move!” My voice rose. I hated to let him see he’d gotten under my skin, but now was not the time for his rivalrous, childish games.

  In a sniveling, snide tone, Jeremy leaned against my door.

  “Might I remind you, Ash, whose name is first on that door? And whose money you will be losing if you don’t get this deal to go through?”

  My fists clenched as I gritted my teeth.

  “Look, if you don’t get the fuck out of my way there won’t be a firm come tomorrow. I have to go fix this deal. That’s why your father hired me and not you to be his second in command. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

  Jeremy scowled as he slowly moved.

  “You’re right, my father does know how valuable you are to this firm, but he also knows I’m the one who will go down with the ship if it sinks. You see, it’s our name that’s first on that door and always will be. You can’t live with that. If we lose, you’ll just pick up and move on.”

  My rage boiled inside. With a wide swing of my arm, I slammed him against the door.

  “Are you fucking questioning my loyalty? I’ve been here since I graduated business school a year before you! I signed an agreement with your father. My name is on that door even if yours is first. And you’re wrong, Jeremy, if I lose this deal I not only lose millions of dollars for this firm I lose my fucking reputation as the biggest, baddest shark in Manhattan. I might as well go be a damn bank teller if I fuck this up. So I have a hell of a lot more to lose than you and your father. Now for the last time, get the fuck out of my way so that I can guarantee the success of this deal!”

  Jeremy’s face paled as he scooted out of the way. Helplessly, he stood watching as I walked down the hall.

  Amber eyed me worriedly as I hopped on the elevator.

  Del Frisco’s was as crowded as I expected it would be. Getting a table here is nearly impossible but, they always manage to work me in. It was the place in Manhattan to power lunch. Everyone who was anyone on Wall Street came here.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Blackthorne. Let me show you to your table.” The attractive blonde hostess led me to a corner table. It was where I liked to sit when I was discussing business.

  Handing me a leather backed menu, she poured me a glass of Pellegrino.

  “How’s business going, Mr. Blackthorne? I’m assuming quite well as usual.”

  I winked at her. She was quite pretty though a bit too young for my taste. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. I usually steered clear of women under twenty five. Younger women tended to expect more in terms of commitment than I was willing to give. Career oriented women over thirty tended to be safer. They appreciated a man who could give them what they needed without messy strings attached.

  “Business is great. Let Paulo know I’m here please and send him out when my party arrives.” I pressed a hundred dollar bill into her palm.

  She nodded and smiled, pleased with the large tip. Paulo was the waiter who took care of me every time I dined at Del Frisco’s.

  As I glanced through the menu, a stocky older gentleman in an outdated suit stopped at my table.

  “Well Ashton, this better be good. I had another lunch meeting scheduled at Crusoe’s.”

  Inwardly I rolled my eyes. No one over the age of sixty ever lunched at Crusoe’s except those who couldn’t get into the better restaurants. I glanced up at Martin who was easily approaching seventy.

  No wonder.

  “Martin, pleasure to see you. Have a seat. Take a look at the menu. I’m going to go with the filet myself, but the salmon is excellent as well.”

  Martin tossed the menu down.

  “You know I’m not interested in how good the food is here. You called me down here, so what is it you’re wanting?”

  Paulo marched up to the table with a tray holding two glasses and a bottle of Macallan.

  Placing the glasses in front of us, he poured them half full. Martin’s eyes drifted down to the liquor briefly before downing the whole glass and motioning for another.

  I merely sipped mine as I watched him.

  “Wow, this early in the day. I’m impressed.”

  Martin leaned back and sighed.

  “Spare me. Just because your father and I went way back doesn’t mean you and I are friends. Let’s get to the point.” He looked at his Rolex.

  “Do you have somewhere else to be?” I asked my voice thick with irritation.

  “Just golf at 2:00.”

  More like a nap at 2:00.

  My father and Martin had done business together for years. He was a slick old bastard as my
father liked to say. My father never trusted him and neither did I. Still, I thought he may be behind the stock buy out at Vitalife.

  “Vitalife,” I uttered one word as I watched his reaction carefully.

  Martin shrugged.

  “What about it?”

  Paulo placed a cup of lobster bisque in front of me.

  I nodded to him as I paused to take a mouthful of the delicious soup.

  Deliberately, I swallowed and blotted my mouth with cloth napkin.

  “Someone bought several million dollars’ worth of shares yesterday.”

  Martin’s gray eyes flickered with a hint of interest.

  “So what? People buy and trade stocks every day. This is Wall Street, Ashton. I thought you went to Harvard you should know that unless your father bought your degree for you.”

  I eyed him with distaste as I finished my soup.

  “You know me better than anyone else on Wall Street because you knew my father. Only you would know how much I wanted to buy that company.”

  Martin finished his third glass of scotch. The old guy would be wasted by the time lunch was finished. He would never make that golf game. He’d pass out in the cab on the way home.

  Martin took a bit of his salmon.

  “You lend your interests more importance than they deserve. Why would I be targeting Vitalife?”

  I tore into my filet and viciously stabbed a piece and brought it to my mouth.

  “You know as well as I do Vitalife was going under. They were the only company in the world trying to manufacture this particular drug that successfully alleviates the pain of several types of cancer specifically pancreatic.”

  Martin smiled and nodded.

  “The cancer that killed your father.”

  “Yes.”

  “So that company not only stands to make you billions it could help people like your father.”

  “You got it.”

  Martin finished his salmon and tossed his cloth napkin down.

  “Ashton, I wish I could help you, but I don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talking about. Vitalife wasn’t on my radar.”

  I was sick of fucking around with this guy.

  “The company that bought those shares goes by the name of H.L.’s Dream, LLC. And that happens to be the name of your yacht. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  Martin templed his fingers together beneath his chin.

  “Perhaps my company did buy those shares, but it wasn’t my idea.”

  I gripped the table as I glared at him.

  “Then whose was it?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss this further. If you need more information, you may contact my attorney.” Martin tossed a business card at me.

  I tore it in half and threw it on the table.

  “Bullshit, Martin! Cut the crap. Sell me back those shares!”

  He laughed.

  “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “Better check your own stock. Eagle has a new major stockholder.” His company, Eagle Enterprises was a decades-old fixture on Wall Street.

  Martin’s eyes widened with rage.

  “What the hell did you do?”

  I shrugged smiling.

  “Nothing except beat you at your own game. Sell me back my shares and I will make sure you get your shares in Eagle back.”

  Martin grimaced.

  “All right, Ashton. Consider it done. But there’s just one thing.”

  “What’s that, Martin?”

  “My company may have bought those shares, but I sold them an hour ago.”

  “Who did you sell them to?”

  Martin wobbled as he stood up.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea. Wish I could help you, but you said if I sold those shares you’d give me back mine. Well, they’ve already been sold.”

  “I meant to me, asshole.”

  Martin slipped his suit jacket on buttoning it.

  “I can’t give you what I don’t have. But check out the company-RJ Investments I believe was the name.”

  “Wait a minute. Why the hell did you buy the shares then sell them? They weren’t worth anything yet.”

  “Ask RJ Investments. Now, Ashton, I do have to be going. The salmon was delicious as you said it would be.”

  I slammed my fist on the table.

  Who the hell was RJ Investments?

  4

  The morning was eerily quiet in the huge house. The little boy rubbed his eyes as he awoke to the cold morning. He slid out of bed and stumbled over to the large bay window in his room. The window bench was padded and covered in toys and stuffed animals.

  Suddenly, he heard a car door slam. That was odd as it was quite early. His father was away on business and his mother never got out of bed before noon on Saturday. Dora was downstairs fixing breakfast for him as he could smell the bacon frying in the pan.

  Pressing his face to the glass, he breathed on it delighting in making his breath appear then wiping the moisture away. Snow was softly falling, the sky thick with gray clouds.

  Then his mother appeared carrying two large suitcases. The car wasn’t hers. It was long and black like the kind his father used when he was leaving for the airport.

  Where was she going?

  The driver dressed in black came around to load the suitcases into the trunk. His mother was wearing a soft blue cashmere coat. Her long hair was pinned up. She looked beautiful as always.

  But she hadn’t told him goodbye.

  Dora was racing outside to speak with his mother. They spoke so low he couldn’t hear. The little boy struggled to push his window open. It opened with a loud crack causing both women to look up.

  “You can’t leave, Mrs. Blackthorne, you just can’t. What about Ashton? Does he even know?” Dora’s voice rose with anger. The small round elderly woman served not only as a housekeeper, but as Ashton’s nanny.

  “He’s too young to understand, Dora. Besides what I do is my business. I will call him later. Now I have a flight to catch.”

  Dora glanced up at him with tears in her eyes. She wrung her hands against her cloth apron. She seemed to be pleading with him for something but he couldn’t understand what was going on.

  His mother shoved Dora aside as she hopped into the long black car.

  Tears began welling in his eyes as he struggled for one last glimpse of his mother and yet, he was denied that as the windows of the car were tinted. He watched the car slowly drive down the private road with his face and hands pressed against cold glass tears pouring down his little face.

  His mommy was leaving.

  And she was never coming back.

  She’d left him like a broken toy forgotten on the shelf.

  His heart ached as he sat there the rest of the day never moving from that spot. Dora tried repeatedly to get him to play, to eat, anything to move from the window seat. But he sat there until he fell asleep late that night.

  She’d promised Dora she’d call.

  But she didn’t.

  That was the last time he ever saw or heard from his mother.

  Fuming from my lunch with Martin, I sped back to my office. As soon as I walked in, Amber was standing in front of my office with a smug smile on her beautiful face holding a blue folder.

  “How was lunch, Ash?”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  “Don’t ask. That slick old bastard pulled a fast one.”

  “So he was the one behind buying the shares of Vitalife?”

  I walked past her and sat down at my desk.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get him to sell you the shares back?”

  “He said he doesn’t have them anymore.”

  Amber grinned and handed me the folder.

  “Let me guess-he sold them to RJ Investments.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Please, you know how. Right after you left Jeremy came storming into your office demanding to know who was behind RJ Investments. I did a little
digging and turned up with this.”

  I opened the folder glancing over the documents.

  “Ronald James? How did you—“

  “--get this? Did you forget? I’m Amber. I can get anything.” She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

  I dropped the folder smiling at her. Like I said, she was the best.

  “Ronald James. How do I know him?” I mused aloud thinking.

  Oh my God…

  “Veronica.” Both Amber and I said in unison.

  “Ash,” Amber whispered her hand flying to her mouth.

  I nodded closing my eyes briefly feeling the rage rising within me.

  “I need—“

  “--a minute?” Amber looked at me her eyes full of understanding.

  “Yes. Hold all my calls and keep Jeremy out of my office.”

  Amber smiled sympathetically and nodded closing the door.

  Veronica James. The most beautiful, intelligent, charming, and wonderful woman I’d ever met.

  And the most infuriating.

  I slammed my fist so hard on the desk the glass top cracked. Wrapping a tissue around my bleeding hand, I gazed out the window at the New York skyline.

  How could Veronica do this to me? Closing my eyes, I knew better than to ask myself that.

  Of course, it was Veronica. She knew me better than Amber. Better than I knew myself.

  It was a crisp fall day. The trees were bursting with color-red, gold, and orange leaves which rained down as the cool autumn wind whipped through them.

  It was my first year of Harvard Business School. I had just graduated in the spring and had spent the summer interning at my father, Ashler Blackthorne’s firm.

  My father was also a Harvard grad. After completing business school, he had taken the small real estate firm he’d purchased and built it into an empire. Growing up in a wealthy home, I was accustomed to the finer things. I had had a nanny, Dora, who I adored. My mother, Debra left when I was very young to be with another man leaving deep scars within me.

  I never heard from her again.

  My father had many girlfriends over the years, but I’d forgotten most of them except one.

  Rita.

  She was a stunning woman, a former model my father adored. He had hoped that Rita would be like a mother to me. He was planning on asking her to marry him.