Home > Tycoon(8)

Tycoon(8)
Author: Katy Evans

I could probably play the crying card with him and bend him to my will, but I won’t because that’s cheating. And because if it fails, I’ll be terribly embarrassed.

“I never invest my money without knowing exactly what I’m buying and who I’m doing business with. I need you to develop this idea more. I’ll tell you about my vetting process if we move forward,” he tells me.

“I don’t want to leave without a yes.”

“You don’t get a yes on the first appointment. You get a maybe, if you’re lucky you get vetted by me.”

“It’s technically our second appointment. I’m feeling lucky.”

He releases a pleasant, low laugh that rumbles up his chest.

“Christos, you just said you want to help me. Do you like my idea?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I’m open to the idea, but what I like is your fiery passion for it.” He lifts his brows meaningfully.

His grin is irresistibly devastating, and I find myself grinning back.

Something crackles in the air as our gazes hold—something electric and warm, something that comes with knowing someone as more than a stranger. A friend even. A once, long ago, possible love interest.

“I’ll work on my pitch to give it some clarity,” I say.

His eyes roam over my face until they lock back on mine, neither of us smiling anymore. “Good. Call my office when you’re ready.”

He steps out, and I see that his blonde is waiting for him outside. My heart skids to a stop. Christos doesn’t miss my reaction. His eyes shadow speculatively, then he gives me a ghost of a smile and a brief nod, slings his bag behind his shoulder, and walks away.

I smile at his girlfriend. She glares. My smile wavers and I look away, too tempted to look back at him but forcing myself to stare ahead and focus on business.

On the train to Nolita, I try to find the perfect song to reflect how angry I am at myself for fucking up my meeting. And also for feeling…well, the pang I felt when he left for his couples workout with his girl.

I can’t deny there’s a restless feeling inside me that appears every time I remember he’s with her, the same one I felt when she called him darling that first time. It won’t go away.

I shut my eyes and try to suppress the memory of his sexy mouth smiling as he cornered me at a party Cole hosted years ago. “You look like a guy who thinks he’s going to kiss me,” I teased him. I always teased him with that line. My heart was banging so hard I couldn’t think or hardly see straight as he approached…

But he never got his chance. I never let him, always stealing away when we were alone because he made me nervous.

I sensed he was dangerous to me. I sense he still is.

So I should be glad he’s taken. In fact, I’m glad he’s taken. It’ll totally ensure I always stay focused on business.

Christos

8 1/2 years ago…

“She’s yours, Aaric.”

For a moment I’m not sure I heard right. Leilani gazes at me with sweet eyes and a smile before glancing down at her very large, very pregnant belly. I blink as I look up at her, struck with disbelief.

I fucked her. Once. And I definitely remember using a rubber.

She glances around. “May I come in? I’ve been on the road for days. It’s been a hassle to find you.”

I should be angry. I should demand explanations. It’s true I’ve fantasized about being a father, but she was never the mother I imagined for my child. God, the timing couldn’t be shittier. I’m barely getting my fucking feet wet in business. Real business. And I’m in the middle of fucking relocating to New York.

“Ley. I don’t have plans for a kid now. I want one. Hell, I want a family more than anything. But not now,” I say, raking a hand through my hair in exasperation.

She shrugs. “Well, I didn’t get pregnant on my own, Christos.”

“Jesus,” I curse even as I swing the door open and watch her walk inside.

Bryn

“It usually only takes two or three meetings, by the third he gives you a yes, a contract is drawn, and you get your first check,” Jensen tells me.

I was passing by his Gramercy Park basement flat while walking Missy on Saturday afternoon and decided to punch in his number on my cell and ask if he wanted to meet me outside.

He did.

He’s in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, walking next to me after picking up coffee at Irving Place as we head to Washington Square Park.

I mull over his words for a moment and sip the last of my coffee, before tossing it into a nearby trashcan. “This’ll be my third meeting and still nothing. I don’t know what the fuck is going on—all my meetings have sort of gone south, Sen,” I admit.

“Hell, I don’t know what to tell you.” He scrapes his hand down his jaw and eyes me. “He’s breaking protocol seeing you directly. Usually his staff screens possible options first.”

“I’d heard that. It’s why I was never put through.” I hug him with one arm to keep from pulling Missy, Mrs. Lopez’s pampered poodle, back. “Thank you, Jensen.”

“Hell, don’t thank me. I was as surprised he agreed to give you that first meeting as you were. But we had to try, didn’t we?”

“Yes, we did.” I lean down and pet Missy happily, once again running my plan through my head.

“So when was your last meet?”

“Five days ago? Monday. I was supposed to call but I want to be sure my business plan is solid before I call again. I can’t screw this up again.”

“I like what you’ve told me so far.”

“Hmm,” I say when I spot a man exiting a bank building.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? He said to call, right? You’ve finally got your foot in the door and now you’re hesitating. Why?”

I give him a wordless look, my heart pounding over the reason. “Personal, I guess.”

“What.”

“I’m attracted to him,” I admit, my eyes still tracking the guy, who has his head down and is speaking on the phone.

“So. Last I heard, everyone is. Me included.” He grins. “The only ones spared are straight men, and the woman who gave birth to him.”

I laugh. “I’m just so impressed by him, Jensen. He was always hardworking, and a little bit bad, but he was a good guy too. I see him, I see the Aaric I knew in this man, but he’s also so…I don’t know. I’m just impressed by him.”

“And.”

“And I think, despite him not going for my business, he was impressed too.” I smile.

“So?”

“It could just be complicated to work with him so closely, but I’m going to call, don’t worry. I’m just getting my ducks in a row.”

“Speak of the devil and he appears,” he mumbles under his breath, kissing my jaw. “He’s crossing the street and heading straight toward you. Go get it.”

“Wha—” I gasp, grabbing his wrist impulsively. “Jensen, don’t go,” I beg.

“I really have to bail, I’ve got to join my boyfriend in his art stand down Prince Street, it’s Saturday, babe! But don’t be shy. Pretend he’s me and tell him exactly what you told me about your plans for your fucking kickass business. If he’s not in, I’ll mortgage my house and my ass and give you the money.”

“Come on.” I push him, laughing, and he pats my butt and says, “Christos,” in greeting.

They slap each other’s back, and yet I notice Christos seems pissy as he greets him.

I don’t know why.

He sees me and I can’t stop my heart from kicking faster. “Twice in two weekends?” He smiles, his eyes glinting in the evening light. “Somebody up there has a sense of humor.”

“No kidding,” I agree.

He’s wearing slacks and a gabardine, and he looks decadent. Making it even harder for me to stay calm.

We begin walking side by side toward Washington Square.

“You didn’t call,” he says. He eyes me sideways.

“I will. I just have other things on my mind. My roommate was really distraught last weekend. I’ve been looking for more clients so that she can join my dog-walking escapades.”

   
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