He made an unintelligible sound on the other end of the phone. “I didn’t call to talk about that, Will. If any of us are charged, the business will suffer. All the investors will walk. I need you back in the ring until the situation stabilizes.”
He’d been trying to pull me into the hedge fund he ran with David Reilly since its inception earlier in the year. I’d entertained a few cocktails and lunches with investors, but I wasn’t interested in that world. I had my own projects to nurse.
“Don’t you pay people to run your businesses? You don’t need me.”
“You’re the only one I trust. Especially under the current circumstances. Beyond that, it’s your money too.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“You think you don’t care because you’ve never had to live a day of your life without it. I made damn sure of that.” His words whipped through the phone, sharp with truth and weighted with years of tireless effort that went into building a lifetime of wealth.
Our relationship had always been matter of fact. The facts about the tried-and-true path to success. The facts about money and business. The facts about women, which in reality were his slanted personal opinions about the finer sex and their usefulness when it came to satisfying one’s personal sexual appetites. He was all fact and no feeling, and that’s how I’d been raised.
According to his law, I should drop him like a bad fucking habit and move on with my life. I searched for empathy, but I could only muster mild concern and a massive dose of irritation that he’d been irresponsible enough to possibly get caught. Now I was at risk of being ensnared in his affairs when I was firmly committed to my own. The last thing I wanted to do was inherit his problems, or his hedge fund.
“I don’t want to get involved in this,” I finally said.
“The things that went down with the Youth Arts Initiative are a separate matter. The money in the fund is clean. You have my word. I can get back on track after all this, but not without your help. Just meet with me. I can lay it all out for you, and you can see what’s at stake.”
I hesitated. He was in deep shit, and as much as I disagreed with his ethics, he was my father and I could at least hear him out—even if I wasn’t willing to stick my neck out to protect his money. Our money, considering I was his only heir and he’d rather burn every dollar than give a penny more to my mother.
“I’m in the middle of a major renovation. I don’t have a lot of time right now.”
“I’ll swing by the site this week. Won’t take long.”
I didn’t want him anywhere near my project. “I’d rather you didn’t. Let’s meet for lunch. I’ll text you when and where.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
The hint of vulnerability in his voice scared me more than anything. Desperation where there’d been only righteous, fearless dedication to his work.
I hung up and stared at the skyline through my window. Another million-dollar view. I had plenty, and my father was right. I’d never known a life without the security of wealth—wealth that he’d amassed by any cutthroat means possible, it would seem. I’d taken my share and played with it in my real estate ventures. But I’d never take his path—moving money between accounts and countries and investments. Options and futures and formulas that only made sense to money-chasers like my father.
And when I finally decided to sit down with him, that’s exactly what he was going to try to sell me. A life I’d never wanted.
I glanced at my watch and moved for the door. I was late, pissed off, and all I wanted was to take those frustrations out on the beautiful brat that was Olivia Bridge.
Chapter Two
WILL
The ma?tre d’ led me to a private table for two in the back of Artu, the upscale restaurant I’d chosen for our dinner tonight. Olivia leaned back in her chair, staring at the brightly lit screen of her phone. Her legs were crossed at the knee under a black-and-white lace pencil skirt that hugged her hips and thighs. Her simple black top was tasteful and revealing at once. I guessed that every piece of her outfit tonight had been carefully chosen to appear professional, except those five-inch black heels that I wanted on either side of my ears.
As I approached, her smile was tight and her shoulders stiffened. “You came. And to think you were worried about me standing you up.”
She was upset. I held my tongue a moment because that little temper of hers was proving to be a weakness for me. I couldn’t wait to fuck the haughty right out of her. Blood flowed south when I thought about the lovely line of her body bending for me, arching under a screaming orgasm as I pounded my way toward my own.
I sat down across from her and exhaled air meant for words I couldn’t say just yet. She wasn’t a bimbo at a bar. She was highly educated, armed with high standards and a sharp tongue. I had to deal with those circumstances delicately to get what I wanted, not to mention mitigate any potential fallout with her brothers after she heard my proposition.
“I had to take an important call.” I draped my napkin over my lap. “Have you been here before?”