Obsession: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #5) A Billionaire Russian Mob Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “I’m sure she’ll be happy to know that. I’ll tell her the next time I see her,” I tell her.

  The waiter arrives to take our drink orders and explains the price fix menu. Once he leaves, Gabrielle and I talk about her interest in women’s organizations while the men discuss finance. It seems like it’ll be a nice evening.

  As our sixth and final course arrives, I grumble, “My goodness, this food’s fantastic, but I don’t think I can eat another bite.”

  It seems Todd and his client have hammered out an agreement, and I’m excited for him.

  When we return to the car, far away from William’s and Gabrielle’s prying eyes, I give him a big hug. “I’m pretty sure you sealed the deal with William.”

  He holds me a bit longer than expected, and I want so much for him to kiss me. “Yes, I think I did. Thank you for all your help.”

  When we stop at our building, we thank the driver and wander into the lobby, greeting the doorman.

  “Mr. Wellington and Miss Hathaway.” He nods and acknowledges us with a sneaky grin. I roll my eyes.

  As we step into the elevator, I move to push the fifth-floor button when Todd says, “I want to celebrate. This deal’s huge. Would you like to come upstairs? You haven’t seen my apartment.”

  I’m conflicted. My brain’s telling me it’s a bad idea, but my body’s saying go and have fun. I give in and decide to join him.

  His apartment’s all masculine—black leather contemporary couches, dark wood floors, dark granite countertops in a pristine kitchen that looks like it’s never used. There’s also a huge television that takes up an entire wall with a stereo setup that makes mine pale, and that’s saying something.

  He pours me a glass of bourbon, and we walk out onto the balcony. The air’s crisp, and I stand close to him for the body heat. He has a stunning view of San Francisco. “Wow! A 360-degree view of the city right from your apartment.”

  “Well, not really. I still see the side of Telegraph Hill, so I can’t see into the East Bay, but it’s a pretty spectacular view of the Golden Gate and Marin. When I become morose, I think about all the prisoners who lived on Alcatraz Island.”

  “You’re funny.” I push against his shoulder.

  “I try.”

  When my teeth start to chatter, he guides me back inside, and I take my sandals off. I groan in delight to be out of my shoes. They’re definitely for looks and not comfort. We sit on the couch and relax.

  Patting his lap, he motions to my feet. “My mom worked on her feet all day, I give a mean foot massage.”

  “Well, who can resist a foot massage.” He reaches for my foot and begins to knead out the kinks of standing in a three-inch heel. His fingers are magic as the tension dissolves in one foot and then the other. Tingles rush over my skin, as I look up into his mesmerizing brown eyes. Eyes any woman could get lost in without much effort. Oh my God, this is incredible.

  “Would you like another drink?” he asks after a few minutes.

  “Water’s good. If I have another drink after the bourbon, the wine tasting menu with dinner, and the port afterward, I’ll be sick all night.”

  He wraps a beautiful ornamental blanket over my shoulders.

  “Thank you.”

  I still have a bit of a buzz from all the liquor. My hormones are telling me to make a move, and my brain’s slow to tell me not to. He’s my neighbor and a friend; getting involved with him has trouble written all over it. A small voice in my head pushes through.

  “You do have a beautiful apartment.”

  He walks me over to his valuable vinyl collection. He’s most proud of an 80’s Clash album and the first pressing of the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

  “Shouldn’t that be in a vault somewhere?” I ask him.

  “If you can’t listen to it, it isn’t worth having.”

  “Cameron’s fiancée had a fire not too long ago. I moved several things into a safe that were irreplaceable.”

  With his hand at the small of my back, he guides me into a library containing an impressive collection of books on one wall and on the other a collection of comic books. Many are behind glass, so they must have some value.

  “This is impressive.”

  “Do you want to know a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “When I got my first bonus check, I bought this collection of comics from an auction house. It’d been put together by a guy with no kids. Some of these go back to the 1920s.” He absently fingers some of his collection.

  “Have you read them all?”

  “Not the one’s behind the hermetically sealed glass. The insurance guy is worried that they are too fragile and will disintegrate to even hold.”

  “You have some cool collections.”

  “Someday you’ll have to check out the sports memorabilia collection I have at my office.”

  I laugh. “A collector of things, huh?”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t grow up with much, but I have more money than I could ever spend, so rather than put it up my nose or buy things I don’t need, I make investments. One day I hope to be like Bill Gates and give it all away.”

  “That’s what I want to do. Of course, these days I don’t have as much as I once did, but one day I will.”

  “What happened?”

  I sigh. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you someday.”

  “Do you collect anything?” He asks as we wander back into the living room.

  “I collect Christmas ornaments, I guess. I have a nice vinyl collection myself, but nothing of any real value.” As I think about it, I add, “But I have a bunch of boxes that I’ve collected from my travels.”

  “Boxes? Like cardboard?”

  I laugh. “No. I have wooden carved ones, a few silver boxes, and even one made from recycled trash.”

  “Where are some of the places you’ve gone?”

  “I’m lucky. I’ve been on almost every continent with the exception of the poles. My hope’s to travel to South Africa in the next year or so, but unless work slows down, taking the amount of time that I want to go isn’t a possibility.”

  “I understand. I’d like to go to Southeast Asia, specifically Thailand, but five or ten days isn’t enough. I want to go for at least a month, if not longer.”

  “That’s what I call a vacation. Maybe one day.”

  I finish my water as we sit next to each other, listening to a Rolling Stones album. After a while, I start to fall asleep. Jolting awake with a start, I decide I’d better head home. “I’m sorry I’m not better company.”

  “What are your plans for the weekend?”

  “I’ll hit the farmers market in the morning before settling down and working. What about you?”

  “I haven’t made any plans as such. How close is the farmers market?”

  “It’s not too far from here. We have the best one in the city at the bottom of the hill. Care to join me?” I ask, hopeful he’ll say yes.

  “Love to. What time do you usually go?”

  “I’ll head over about seven.”

  “Meet you in the lobby?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” With my fingers in my shoes, I hug him goodbye, standing on my tiptoes to whisper, “See you in the morning.”

  “You’re pretty tired. Let me walk you to your door.”

  There’s definitely an attraction between us. I’m beginning to rethink this “just friends” path I’ve set myself on.

  Chapter NINE

  Cynthia

  My alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m.—entirely too early—and I hit the snooze button three more times before I can finally get myself out of bed. I can’t believe how tired I am. It seems the exhaustion is all hitting me at once after the weeks and months of stress and pressure. I want to curl up under the covers and sleep the weekend away, but I made plans with Todd. I’m excited to see him again, and heading to the farmers market together should make for a fun morning.

  As I arrive in the downstairs lobby, T
odd’s already there waiting for me with a traveler’s cup. He hands it to me. “I think this is your coffee order. Cream and three sugars?”

  I’m stunned that he’s paid attention. I had coffee during the Jennifer Chang event and that was months ago. I’m stunned. My own brother doesn’t remember how I take my coffee, and I’ve drunk it this way forever. “Wow, thank you. It’s just what I needed this morning.” I take a big gulp. “This is perfect.”

  We walk in silence until I spot an ATM and ask, “Do you have cash?”

  “Why? Do you need something?”

  “Oh no. It’s just that most of the vendors at the farmers market prefer cash. I saw the ATM and it reminded me.”

  “I have some. I think I’ll be okay. Maybe it’ll curb my spending on kale.”

  “As if there aren’t a dozen other reasons to curb your spending on kale,” I say with a laugh. “Let’s go.”

  The market only opened ten minutes before we arrive, but it’s already brimming with people. We look at the rainbow of fruits, vegetables, artisan breads, and interesting things people are selling. I stop and pick up makings for salads, stir-fry, and some beautiful cherries and strawberries from the valley. I’m more than stocked for the week.

  Todd spends quite a bit of time wandering the stall of heirloom tomatoes. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a purple tomato.”

  “Try it. You may find you like it.”

  He ends up picking some of the tomatoes, along with various other fruits and some kale to give me a hard time. I think it’s funny.

  As we work our way through the market, we run into Emerson and Dillon. “Hey, guys, good to see you,” I exclaim.

  “Good to see you too.”

  Emerson and I start a small conversation on the side, and Todd and Dillon talk a little bit of shop. She quietly asks, “Are you dating Todd?”

  I shake my head. “Believe it or not, we live in the same building. We’re only hanging out, and I’m showing him around The City a bit.”

  “He seems like a great fit for you. At least that’s what CeCe thinks.”

  “I know she prides herself on being the consummate matchmaker, and it’s very thoughtful of her, but somehow I don’t expect us being anything more than friends.”

  As we’re talking, Sara and Trey walk up, and then we see Cameron and Hadlee too.

  Todd asks, “Is it a work requirement for you guys to all attend the farmers market on a Saturday morning?”

  The girls all giggle, and Sara shares, “No, we just all love the sunshine and are on the same wavelength. It probably means we have no life.”

  Most of us nod and agree. We part ways, and I wave as we start to walk home. “See you guys tomorrow night,” I call over my shoulder.

  Todd turns to me. “What are you doing with them on a Sunday night?”

  “Each week we have a partners’ meeting at CeCe’s parents’ home. It gives us the chance to meet alone and in quiet without anybody eavesdropping. The entire team comes. We start with a dinner, and usually significant others will join us, and then the partners will retire to Charles’ home office. It gives us the chance to discuss important private things. Charles is an advisor to us, along with Trey and CeCe.”

  “That’s an interesting concept.”

  “The Wall Street Journal did a deep dive on Charles a few months ago, and our unique concept was a big topic for them. Mason, Dillon, and Cameron started this business and have slowly added other partners and employees as the company has grown. They admit that finding success at young ages leaves us blind in certain areas. Having input from Charles’s experience, along with Trey and CeCe both running large established businesses, has helped us navigate a few obstacles.”

  “I like that. I’m wondering if Morgan Wealth should institute something like that.”

  “It works well for us, and they’re compensated, but mostly they get a small percentage of our profits, and Charles has the opportunity to be one of our few outside investors. In fact, I believe he’s the only one.”

  “That’s so different than the investment banking industry.”

  “We’re different from most venture cap companies too. We’re our own fund, and we reinvest rather than source money from outside. It allows us to remain purer in our investments.”

  “I’d love to talk to the guys about it and see if I can’t figure out how to make that model work for us. Obviously we use outside money, but still, I can see how the concept could work for Morgan Wealth Management.”

  I know Todd hangs out with most of the partners socially. “I’d have to check to see if the partners and, of course, the Arnaults are okay with it, but if they are, would you like to join us for dinner tomorrow night? You can head back after dinner, and I can catch a ride with someone else after the partners meeting.”

  “Do you think they’d mind? I could easily wait for you and work far away from your meeting, if it’s okay with everyone that I come to dinner.”

  “I don’t know what’s on the agenda for our meeting, but the dinners are all social and people bring guests regularly. It’s not my house, so I’ll check with Mason and Charles and Margo, and as long as it’s okay with them, it should be a fun night.”

  We reach our building and say goodbye when the elevator stops on my floor. “I’ll let you know about tomorrow night.”

  My stomach growls loud enough that the clock on my computer catches my eye. Eight o’clock already? I’ve been working all afternoon and into the evening. My head’s beginning to throb, telling me my body needs nourishment. I’m not normally one to miss meals.

  I look through the fridge and my pantry, but nothing appeals to me. Spotting the takeout menus next to my fridge, I decide Chinese food sounds good, then wonder if Todd would be interested in some. Chances are he’s already eaten or is on a date. The thought actually bothers me. We’ve spent the last five nights together, and I love spending time with him, but I also need to do a reality check. We aren’t dating, and he’d probably like to have friends other than me.

  But I can’t help myself and text him anyway.

  Me: Hey, you may already have plans tonight, but would you like to join me for Chinese takeout and a bad movie? I’m going to order food here shortly.

  Todd: I’m in, but can we watch a good movie instead?

  Me: Come on down and let’s order dinner. Then we can argue about what to watch.

  He’s at my door in two minutes, which makes me laugh. “Were you waiting for me to call you?”

  “I was hoping. I didn’t want to bug you and make you feel like you need to entertain me.”

  “I’m not entertaining you. I love showing you around my adopted city and our neighborhood. We’ll work on finding you more friends and people to hang out with at some point, but until then, I get you all to myself.”

  “Honestly, I’m fine hanging out with you most nights, if that doesn’t bother you. But I don’t want to put a crimp in your dating life, so tell me to move on when you’re ready.”

  I laugh out loud. Dating life? This is a hard place to be a single and successful female. “Trust me, there’s no dating life to put a crimp in. Once you get settled, you’ll have women beating your door down. You’re incredibly handsome, you have a good job, and there are a lot of things to like about you.”

  He has a look of surprise, but just as he starts to say something. I quickly change the subject before I say or do something I may regret. Holding up the menu, “What do you like?”

  Saved from the rest of that awkward conversation. I’m drooling all over him. Good grief!

  While waiting for our food delivery, we start a long debate of his wanting an action-adventure movie while I was looking for a romantic comedy, we settle on a drama. The intercom buzzes and the doorman lets us know our Chinese food has arrived.

  We sit comfortably on the couch side by side. His body is only inches from mine, his closeness warming my skin, causing a trickle of awareness to course through me. I smell the soap from his shower, he
ar each time he breathes—rhythmic and deep.

  I fall asleep before it ends, and he wakes me to tell me he’s heading home.

  “That’s a bit embarrassing. I don’t usually fall asleep so easily except around you.” If it was almost anybody else, I might be worried, but at this point he’s seen me without makeup, at both my best and my worst, and I figure it doesn’t matter what I look like. Which is so not the Dallas way, where hair and makeup must always be perfect.

  “You’re obviously exhausted. I get it. Other than dinner and the meeting, do you have big plans for tomorrow?”

  I shake the sleep from my head. “I checked with Margo and Charles, and they were happy about you joining us for dinner. Let’s meet around four thirty in the garage. I can drive us down to Hillsboro, where the Arnaults have their family home.”

  “Sounds good.” He stands and looks at me once more, almost passed out already. “Try not to sleep on the couch tonight.”

  I stretch and sit up. “You’re right.” I stand and walk him to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  He walks out, and I immediately miss him.

  Chapter TEN

  Cynthia

  I sleep in late for me, but I’m feeling refreshed after such a long rest and drinking almost an entire pot of coffee. I run a few errands and do some work before meeting Todd. When it’s time to get ready, I go for my standard tight jeans, platform boots, and a pretty blouse. The Arnaults have dogs, and they jump when they’re excited, but it’s not as bad in jeans.

  Removing the cover from my 1964 Mercedes, I look at her. She’s black and chrome, the leather interior in pristine shape. Just beautiful. I usually bum a ride from one of the other partners, since we live close and my car can be finicky, but tonight I want to drive. I hope she starts. It’s been a few weeks, and sometimes she can be temperamental when she isn’t exercised regularly.