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Mr. Grayson: Billionaires’ Club Book 4: Chapter 10

ALEX

Ihad watched each of my close friends have life-changing occurrences which led them down a path of finding love in the most peculiar ways. As a bystander who’d watched everything my friends had gone through, I decided long ago to take what I deemed was a more straightforward route—not allowing a woman in at all. Quite frankly, I enjoyed the less problematic method of happiness by not bringing a complicated woman into my life.

I could never become that man, the one I’d watched all of my buddies transform into. The man who was blindsided by love and all of the complications that waited on the other side of that word. Don’t get me wrong; what my friends found with their ladies was priceless and worth it for them. I was a pragmatist, however, and there was no way the lucky lightning could strike all four of us. I suppose they had what I don’t, though, which is a willingness for love to find me in the first place.

My childhood was made up of horrors I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, so the idea that I might have to share those experiences with another was a reason for me to avoid relationships like the plague. The pieces of the trauma I hadn’t blocked out were enough to make me suffer from night terrors for as long as I can remember—night terrors that made me jolt awake, drenched in sweat and feeling like I’d been trying to outrun the hell hounds that tormented me endlessly. I didn’t want to have to explain the occurrence to anyone. Weird things like night terrors led to questions, and questions led to the truth. And the truth was something my family didn’t talk about.

I tried to make things work with Summer, but ultimately, my attempt at that confirmed what I’ve always known: I don’t have it in me. In the end, I looked like the asshole I was because she desperately tried to change the game on me. We were supposed to be having casual fun, but it didn’t take her long to sink her claws into me and try to transform me into the perfect boyfriend material. That’s when it all went south.

What started as fun with an uncomplicated woman ended up being a suffocating relationship driven by her insecurities and desire to fix me and make me into the man of her dreams. I moved on from that for her and myself. If she wanted a man to share forever with, she should have easily known I could’ve never been that man.

Now, I was dealing with Bree. From everything I’d come to know about her, she was my definition of a complicated woman. She’d had a messy, wedding-day breakup, she was a mess at work half of the time, and I’d seen her on the verge of falling apart more times than I’m sure she’d have liked. And even though she’s everything I usually steered clear of when it came to women and my so-called version of a relationship, I’ll be damned if she wasn’t drawing my sorry ass in despite the walls I’d built to keep myself guarded. I wasn’t entirely her victim, though—well, perhaps I was because Monday morning couldn’t have come fast enough after I saw her out with her friends.

I’d seen many different faces of Breanne Stone and was either annoyed or amused by her shifting moods. After seeing the veil of the woman’s business side dropped and catching a glimpse of the lovely demeanor she displayed with her friends, I knew I was headed down a road I swore never to travel—taking an interest in a woman who I could never make happy. Why was I fascinated by her so suddenly, the most complicated woman I’d encountered in far too long?

She’s your fucking partner, that’s why, I reassured myself before shaking this wild tangent of thought from my head. This was the last possible thing I needed to be thinking about.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

I glanced down at my phone after stepping out of my car and seeing that Breanne’s new parking space was empty.

“Hey, Theo,” I answered. “Everything good on your end?”

“I’m going through the proposals and wanted to thank you again for this. Should I drop it by Stone or Mitchell?”

“Fax it to Mr. Monroe at Mitchell. He’s handling the restructure in the London office while I deal with the shit that went south with Stone.” I glanced at my watch and then back to Bree’s empty parking space. “Quick question,” I said to Theo while shouldering my leather briefcase.

“Anything. Is everything okay? Bree told me you guys are opening up in the Brooks Architectural building today.”

“Yeah,” I answered, still confused as to why the hell she wasn’t yet here. “I’m curious about whether or not she’s a creature of habit, and maybe she showed up at the wrong building this morning. She’s not here.”

I heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

Complicated women. And this is who you thought about for your entire commute to work this morning? I thought with a roll of my eyes.

“What’s up, Theo?” I became more direct. “If something is going on with her, I need to know. I’m getting ready to head up to my office, and I wasn’t expecting her to be late on a day when her faithful employees are here to report for work.”

“I shouldn’t say anything, but…” he paused.

“I’m a man who doesn’t beat around the bush. Tell me what is going on with Breanne.”

“She’s at work. She’s already there and said she loves her office. She’s been there since six this morning.”

“Ah,” I answered, listening to the man stammer, holding something back. “Why isn’t her car here, then? Is she so humble that she parks on the second floor in the garage with the rest of our employees?”

“She’ll kill me if I told you, but after the way you’ve taken care of me, I know you’ll understand her unfortunate situation.”

I stopped from entering the front doors of my building and walked toward one of the pillars that faced the valet stand.

I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me,” I teased. “Seriously, I need to know what I’m walking into. What kind of unfortunate situation is Breanne facing?”

“She’s broke as hell,” Theo sighed while my eyes widened in shock.

“Broke as hell?” I repeated. “As in living on the streets? I saw her at a ridiculously expensive restaurant on Saturday night. What’d she do, gamble her life away in Vegas on Sunday?”

“Alex, I can hear the humor in your voice, and this is why she would kill me for letting you in on this.”

“It’s not humor. It’s more like disbelief,” I answered. “What are we looking at? The woman is an executive for a large architectural firm. On top of that, Mitchell and Associates pay rather well as our parent company.”

“Well, after her girlfriends told me she surrendered her car to the dealership on Saturday, I wanted to chew her out. Her best friends are very close and will help her financially until she can fix this.”

“I need direct answers, Theo, not gossip column BS. How broke is she, and how did this happen? Does she not understand the meaning of investing money? Paying bills? What?”

I was becoming firm because this was the most insane thing I’d ever heard in my entire life. At this age, and with all of these opportunities that’d been made available to her, how the fuck could she be flat broke?

“Bree has a huge heart. All of the money she had to her name, down to every last penny of her father’s inheritance, she invested into her father’s company. She was determined to keep Stone afloat and save her father’s legacy. This is why I hope you bury every last son of a bitch who stole from her. While they pillaged, she was donating her paychecks, life savings, and selling off stocks so they wouldn’t lose their homes or cars.”

I could hear the man choking up.

“Jesus Christ,” I finally said.

“Don’t you dare be an asshole to her,” Theo’s voice sharpened. “I don’t need that job in London, and I will risk losing it to tell you that I will kick your ass if you tell her you know and if you’re a condescending dick to her about this.”

I smiled. Someone threatening to kick my ass while talking business was normal, but a CEO being flat broke after donating their assets? That was not fucking normal.

“My lips are sealed,” I assured him. “I am in shock that she considered doing that shit, but my new partner never ceases to amaze me. Don’t worry about Breanne. I’ll manage to get her to tell me, and we’ll ensure the woman isn’t auctioning off her belongings at high noon today.”

“This isn’t a joke, Alex,” Theo said. “Breanne may have a huge heart, but the woman is as stubborn as a mule.”

“Got it,” I responded. “Maybe over a few Moscow Mules this afternoon, she’ll confide in me, and we’ll get the bills paid and a company car offered in her new bonus package.”

“She’ll see right through that,” Theo warned. “She won’t drink during business hours either. She stated that after her run-in with you while she was drunk at the gala. She vowed never again to let liquor interfere with her thoughts while in your presence.”

“I’ll find a way. I always do.” I smiled, knowing there hasn’t been one woman or business transaction that I couldn’t have my way with. “Take care, Theo, and fax over the details. Spencer Monroe will be working on your transfer and ensuring you’re taken care of.”

“Not a word to Bree,” he warned again.

“Her dark secret is safe with me,” I teased.

“I don’t like that tone.”

“And I don’t like keeping secrets,” I answered. “However, I’ll get the news directly from the woman. Rest easy, friend.” With that, I hung up.

Breanne Stone may be a complicated woman, but she wasn’t complicated enough that I couldn’t manage to sneak this out of her. I was her partner, and I would do anything to help her rise from the dust pile her employees threw her in. For the love of God, who in their right mind would allow themselves to go bankrupt with their company? That shit would have to be explained to me because I would never figure it out on my own.

Failing businesses either close up shop or get sold to the highest bidder, eager to take them on—I’d never heard of a CEO going bankrupt along with the company. Executives could usually see a bad thing coming, and they’d jump ship long before they went down with the damn thing. This woman was dangerously attached to her father’s company, but to the point of bankruptcy? What the living fuck?

My new mission today—on top of shaking the last of the rotten apples out of the tree from Stone and the joys of sitting with HR and legal at Mitchell this afternoon—was to crack Breanne Stone. The woman had done the most mind-blowing thing I could imagine, and I was going to get it out of her. I knew trust was something she needed to find in me, so I’d start there. I sure as shit hoped the friends she was out with on Saturday were helping the woman because I couldn’t lend a hand unless I confessed that Theo had sold her ass out.

With a new smile of determination on my face, I walked into the magnificent entrance of Brooks, happy to be back in the intricately designed building—designed by John Brooks himself—and eager to get some coffee and meet with my destitute business partner.

Strangely, I welcomed this because I had a feeling the woman was going to lie at every angle to save herself embarrassment, and I wasn’t going to let up on her. It’s how I was programmed—to find answers and seal deals at any cost.

My vice president, Jacey Grant, was the first to greet me after slamming into me with a pile of papers, which exploded all around us, falling like feathers to the ground. I laughed as I always did when Jacey’s mind was spinning, and she was trying to handle shit behind the scenes.

“I thought we were going green, Jace,” I teased her, seeing her hair falling out of its once intricately styled bun, her cheeks heated, and her eyes pleading with me to leave her to the day that was trying to go to hell on her.

“This is bullshit,” she said. She was never one to cuss, around me, anyway.

I knelt and started to gather the papers that were scattered in the hallway. “What’s bullshit? What happened?”

“I’m getting calls from Stone Company employees asking why their place of business has locked them out.”

“Why haven’t you directed them to Breanne or me?”

“Bree jumped my ass for it earlier.” She smirked and raised her eyebrows. “She certainly has fire in her spirit.”

“Jumped your ass?” I frowned, off-put at the idea of Breanne being a bitch to the woman we shared as a vice president.

“In a good way. She wasn’t mean,” she said, looking over her glasses at me. “She told me to block their numbers from my cell and that they were her problem, not mine.”

“Here’s the deal,” I handed her the last of the papers and stood with her, “they’re neither yours nor her problem. Unfortunately, these fuckers who robbed Stone blind didn’t get the memo that Lexi sent out on Friday night.”

“You’re playing it too nice, if you ask me,” Jacey eyed me. She was unbelievably gorgeous, albeit a bit neurotic for my taste. She was also completely off-limits if I wanted to keep a good vice president running this place.

“Well, you’re a big, bad New Yorker,” I said. She’d come from a badass firm in Manhattan, and she proudly graduated top of her class at NYC, and being a native East Coaster, she didn’t mince words. “Sometimes, we Californians don’t operate as boldly as you.”

“You take the easy route,” she chuckled.

“We tend to play the long game and give you enough rope to hang yourself,” I countered. “While you blast people with truth bombs, I’m more inclined to put someone in the hot seat and watch them squirm and suffer a little bit.”

“Whatever. Because you love watching people squirm, I’m left to deal with their BS in the meantime. I say cut and run.”

I grinned, then nodded toward the papers she held. “What’s with all the papers? Did our marketing team start printing flyers?” I pinched my lips, trying not to laugh at her rising frustration.

“They’re the last of the papers we’re inputting from Stone,” Breanne said, walking up to us. “Here, Jacey. I’ll take those.”

I eyed Breanne, and though I loved her Michelle Pfeifer-esque mysterious eyes and lips, my primal male instincts begged me to see if the cleavage that was alive and well in her cocktail dress was still pronounced to perfection. This woman hid a body underneath that business attire that I wanted to discover in more ways than one.

She wore her usual pencil skirt, and I could tell her matching suit jacket was draped elsewhere while she and Jacey were up here busting their asses, making me feel like I was the schmuck who was late for work. With her business jacket abandoned, my eyes were grateful she wore a fashionable pink silk blouse with a loose, v-shaped neckline. I could tear this woman up if I wanted to destroy my business relationship—and part of me was starting to believe it would be worth it.

“You look pissed off,” Jacey said, eying Breanne, then me.

“I’m sort of feeling like I’m late to the party,” I looked at Breanne. “In fact, I was about to jump your ass for being late on your first day here when I noted your car wasn’t parked next to mine in executive parking.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened, cheeks turned pink, then she looked at Jacey for help. “My car is in the shop.”

I slid my hands into my suit pockets, realizing that Jacey and Breanne had already formed a little womanly bond and most likely about Bree being broke. Their body language and eye contact—Breanne thanking Jacey and Jacey giving a quick nod in response—confirmed it.

“Your car is in the shop?” I interrupted the women’s telepathic glancing. “Oil change?”

“Nah. It broke down.” She blew out a breath.

I refrained from smiling. “That sucks. Where did it leave you broke down at?” I toyed with the word broke, seeing her eyes narrow at me.

“Does it matter?” Jacey shot off, jumping on Bree’s bandwagon. “How about we talk about the fact that we’re moving Breanne out of the dark ages and teaching her to go green for the environment by inputting all of this into the computer?”

“How about that,” I smiled at the two. “Let’s spend the entire day inputting jobs into a computer instead of allowing our PAs to earn their paychecks.”

“Confidential paperwork,” Jacey said. “So, we’ll see you later.”

“Hold up, both of you.” I turned to face where they were headed. “Let me see the papers.”

What the hell were they all secretive and girlfriend-ish about? Who knew, maybe Jacey and Bree both preferred women—each other—and in the end, I’d be the damn joke.

Jacey shoved the papers into my hands, and I started to fan through the pages. Most were outdated projects, bids that needed approval, and some were mock-ups that the architects had fucked us on that would require the legal team.

I eyed Breanne. “First of all, you’ll have to ignore Jacey and her love for the environment at times, especially when it comes to us needing this hard evidence in the hands of legal for this afternoon when we meet with them.” I looked at Jacey. “I’m hoping this is why you’re acting out of character and suddenly so skittish.”

“We’re trying to handle the last of the business. You’re slowing us down,” Jacey said with an arch of her eyebrow.

“Breanne and I have a meeting with some new department heads today.” I smiled at Breanne. “Well, one head, anyway. I think they’re all mostly losing their heads with those papers as proof that they robbed you of virtually everything.”

“True,” Breanne said.

“All right, get the papers secure and in my office,” I said to Jacey. “You’re in this meeting too. It seems that you and Breanne have become close enough for you to learn how we will be handling the merge moving forward.”

“You’re too nice by allowing them to step foot in the Howard building and giving them a chance to defend themselves in front of James Mitchell and Spencer Monroe,” Jacey said.

“I told you that I like to put people in the hot seat earlier, and Mr. Monroe prefers to sit their asses on hot coals. The man has a way with words that will make the litigators take notes on how to improve their interrogation skills.”

“I heard he’s an absolute son of a bitch,” Breanne said. “I’m not in the mood for assholes today.”

I noticed her demeanor change when her eyes moved toward the wall I stood next to. “Well, with your car being broke and leaving you stranded, I can imagine.”

“You say the word broke as if it’s supposed to mean something else,” Breanne snapped.

“I’m bringing these to your secretary,” Jacey said. “I’ll let Spencer know we have more documentation heading his way too.”

“If he gives you shit, give him Bree’s number,” I said with a grin. “He needs to be checked by the woman who’s not in the mood for assholes today.”

She smiled while Breanne laughed. “Yeah, if Spencer Monroe wants to be bitchy about this, I can certainly handle him,” Bree said.

“Have you met my buddy Spencer, or are these rumors that Brooks’ employees have delivered to your itching ears today?”

“I was told that he’s a no-bullshit man. He’s James Mitchell’s VP, so I can guarantee he’s a hard-ass.”

“I’m all those things as well. Does that guarantee me a seat at the table where you prematurely judge people?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. This whole day has been hell from the minute I woke up and realized I didn’t have my ca—”

A smile spread across my face when she stopped herself from telling the truth about not having her car.

“I’m sorry, are you from Boston all of a sudden? You didn’t have a cah when you woke up this morning?” I teased.

“Alex,” she tucked her hair behind her ear, ignoring my question, “our meeting is in fifteen minutes. We should probably go over notes and how we’re going to roll out all of this.”

“I’m more curious as to how you went from having a car in the shop to waking up without one altogether.”

“Long weekend.” She threw up that excuse next. “I’m not getting into it. I need to get my head into the game so that we can kick off this meeting properly.”

It was bugging me that she wouldn’t come out and tell me that the sons of bitches who had been stealing from her were the reason she was fucking broke. Time for the trust game. “I’m hoping your weekend wasn’t long because some dick ruined it for you. You never called the one man who promised he’d take care of what was his.”

Her eyes diverted from mine. “You can think that all day long, but no man owns me.”

“So, you didn’t go home with some dick who promised you what only I could give?”

Her eyes did that sexy wide-eye look. “Good God, Alex. We’re at work, not at the bar.”

“We’re on the executive floors,” I smiled, leaning my shoulder against the wall. “And I want to know the truth about your car. You’re covering something up, and I’m not one for secrets.”

“Well, instead of you believing I’m holding in a deep, dark secret,” which you are, I thought while I nodded along to her proclamation, “it boils down to one thing.” She arched a cocky eyebrow at me. “It’s personal and none of your business.”

“Now you’ve got my full attention, and I won’t be able to focus in that meeting until I know the truth about why you and Jacey seem to be having a day from hell, and we’re only thirty minutes into shop time.”

“There’s a lot ahead of both of us. My car not being parked next to yours should be the last thing on your mind.”

“Just trying to make sure we’re all merging, trusting each other, and two business partners are helping each other get through it all.”

She inhaled and put on the smile that shut my ass right up. The goddamn dimples that popped in her cheeks would certainly fuck me over if I allowed them to latch onto me.

“Well, if you need any help,” she said, “I’ll be right at your side as you announce the new changes to our department heads and tell them why we’re all moving into their building.”

“When you smile like that…” I stopped myself immediately and simply nodded in agreement with her, ending the conversation. Shit. That one smile was enough to make me have to fight to ignore my impulses. She was smiling at me as she had her friends at dinner the other night. She was goddamn beautiful, and I was the most dangerous creature she could ever meet.

I was so fucked because I knew I wasn’t wired to keep that smile on her face. I was a heartless bastard because, as my father always loved to remind me, I wasn’t capable of love. Still, that’d never stopped me from pretending I could be Mr. Right for all the wrong girls.

But now, my voice was nearly cracking as I let her know that her smile does something to me, and the baffled, bashful look on her face—probably the knowledge that she knew I was smitten by her, and she liked it—sucked me in even more.

For someone who didn’t let anything stand in his way—business or pleasure—I sure was having a hell of a time with this woman today.


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