Expose (Billionaire Series) (10 page)

Of course, none of
those options had taken into consideration what would happen if Jennifer
couldn't choose. It did, as Rachel had said, come back to love. It wasn't about
her being alone, or who she could live with. It was about who she couldn't live
without.

It
was a week later, and I was already breaking the rules laid down by Mathis and
my uncle. I had read in the paper that Walt Rossi, Kathryn’s father, was
attending the opening of a new huge decked-out car museum built to promote the
American car industry, or some reason like that. It was apparently a big deal.
I was sure it was simply a case of wanting to fit at least a few enjoyable
events into his busy political schedule, but whatever the real reason, the
article mentioned that his daughter and her boyfriend would be at the event. It
hadn’t taken very long before I was on the phone with Sharon.

“Imagine
how many people you can give cards to at this kind of event,” I wheedled when
she refused point blank.

“I
already have more than enough on my plate,” she said.

“Please,”
I begged, “I have to go!”

“No,
Mandy. This is a bad idea,” she replied.

“But
you said I shouldn’t give up!”

“Come
on, you know what I meant. I meant to take your time and let this other stuff
blow over.”

“But
we’ll stay a good distance away!” I pleaded.

It
had taken another 20 minutes before she caved in and agreed to go with me. Even
after what Mathis had said the last time, I was determined to see him if I
could. I was actually more determined than ever. Since Mathis had left without
even letting me give my opinion, I needed badly to tell him how I felt. I had
decided that even though my uncle might have wanted us apart when we were
young, we were adults now and there was no way he would want us to be
miserable. He’d want us to be happy, and I was convinced that he wouldn’t have
had anything against us being together. Why would he have made it possible for
us to meet again otherwise?

I had
it completely organized in my mind, ready to convince him if I had the
opportunity to see him. I was determined that nothing was going to stop me this
time.

***

The
event was packed when we got there, and there was a huge crowd around the main
attractions at the event. Many of the old classic cars, as well as futuristic
cars, were getting extra special attention from the crowds. Sharon looked like
she wanted to leave right away, but I pulled her arm and we wound our way
through the crowds, keeping our purses clutched tightly to our bodies in case
of pickpockets.

Eventually
we worked our way towards the center of the museum, and I could see through the
flock of people and towards half a dozen shiny new sports cars, all revved up
and rumbling to impress the crowds. The cars were lined up neatly in pairs
along the modest race track. I was amazed at the mini race track extending out
of the back of the museum. The amount of work that must have gone into this
museum was outstanding.

“Holy
shit. So this is why we had to get past all those people,” Sharon stated,
equally amazed by the view. But I wasn’t really listening to her. I was
scanning past the crowds looking for Mathis’ tall figure. I finally spotted him
and Kathryn as I turned my attention to the people standing on the other side
of the lined up cars. Mathis had his arm around Kathryn as her father chatted
to a racer about to get seated into one of the race cars. I ignored the acidic
churning of my stomach as I noted Mathis’ arm around another woman, and I tried
to think about the best way to get Mathis alone. I’d have to wait until the
race was over, then perhaps he would separate from Kathryn and her father for a
while and I’d get my chance.

***

The
race was about to start as soon as Sharon and I got settled in a pretty good
spot almost right up to the cement barrier. Sharon was in a very good mood now,
checking out all the excitement around her. My eyes were glued to Mathis, and I
barely noticed the racing cars getting ready to begin. Mathis didn’t seem to be
paying much attention either. Although his eyes were looking in the direction
of the cars, his expression was glazed, as if he was lost in his own world,
pretending he was somewhere else. I wondered what he was thinking about, and
why he had decided to go to this event when he didn’t seem to have any real
interest in cars despite his playboy image.

Suddenly,
I lurched forward as I was shoved abruptly from behind. A man pushed me rudely,
trying to get past me for a better view of the race. I gave him my most
disgusted looking face, offended that anyone would act so aggressively just to
get to the front of a crowd. Sharon and I had made sure not to push or shove
anyone, and the crowd had parted eagerly enough to let us through. This guy was
just flat out rude.

I
opened my mouth to give him a scathing taste of my tongue for pushing me, but
the words shriveled on my tongue as I saw a strange bulge in the back of his
jacket. It was a warm day, and there was no need to be wearing a jacket. At
first I thought it might be a money pouch or camera or something, but my best
guess would not have been even close to what it really was.

The
truth seemed to unravel itself in slow motion, each action slowing down to show
every single detail as sharply as if it had been playing on a movie screen. The
man in front of me put his hand around to his back, lifting his jacket slightly
to reveal a glint of hard black metal underneath. The bulge had been a gun, and
he was taking hold of it, pulling it out from behind him.

I
couldn’t scream or move as he brought out the gun. I was just frozen, standing
there dumbfounded, watching everything unfold in slow motion. Was anyone else
seeing this? This wasn’t really happening was it? The countdown to the
beginning of the race had begun, but it echoed strangely in my ears as the
numbers were yelled:

“Three,
two, one, GO!”

Every
single eye was on the cars, roaring into action on the race track. Every single
eye…except mine and the gunman’s. I watched him, horror-struck, as he raised
the gun, unnoticed by the enraptured crowd, and pointed it across the pair of
cars in front of us, past the roaring engines, and directly at Mathis.

My body froze as if someone had glued my limbs to my sides.
My eyes followed the dark metal barrel of the gun as it aimed directly at
Mathis’ head and then moved down slightly to mark his chest. As I looked across
the crowd at Mathis, I saw that he was checking his phone—oblivious to the gun
being pointed in his direction.

Somehow, I found it in me to move. It was as if my limbs had
been given a sudden burst of energy, like an electric shock. It was
subconscious; I just acted without thinking. I yelled out, lurching forward and
shoving the gunman with both my hands.

I collided clumsily with his arm, trying to knock the gun off
its course as he pulled the trigger. Pain lanced through my arm as the shock of
the recoil ripped through me. I heard the deafening crack of the bullet, which
quickly cut through the sound of the race.

In a split second, I saw Mathis drop almost instantly to the
ground, with Kathryn going down with him. They disappeared behind the barrier
on the other side of the race track, and a second later the entire crowd
exploded.

I couldn’t tell where the bullet had gone or whether it had
hit its mark. After the bullet had sounded, the entire area was filled with
screams. Half of the people around me were suddenly on the ground while the other
half were desperately pushing to escape the cage of tightly packed people.

I unfortunately had lost sight of the gunman. He had pushed
me so hard that I felt my body ricochet off the ground. The last I saw, he was
shoving and elbowing his way through, blending in perfectly with the crowd of
panic.

I fought to get to my feet amidst the panicking herd around
me. What had happened to Mathis? I felt my heart tighten as I tried to push
back all the terrible thoughts suddenly flashing through my mind. I attempted
to take a step forward only to be pulled backwards with the escaping crowd as
if every limb and torso had morphed into a single entity, pushing insistently
in the other direction. Panic filled me as I realized I was being pulled farther
and farther back, losing sight of the race track.

I struggled frantically against the movement of the crowd,
craning and shoving to see whether Mathis was okay.

Had the bullet found its mark despite my intervention?

I could barely feel my limbs or string my thoughts together.
All I knew was that I needed to reach Mathis.

The cars in the race had ground to a halt and the racers were
getting out, running towards the start line, probably to see what was going on
and why half the crowd had suddenly disappeared in a stampede. I tried to
squint past them, and my heart gave a sickening lurch as I saw dozens of
security guards rushing in the direction of where Mathis had been standing
moments earlier, like a burly black crowd of morbid news.

I shoved my way through the horde of panicking people who
were pushing and shoving, without really moving anywhere, hemmed in by yet more
people unsure of what was happening. It took some time, but I finally had my
hands on the barrier between the crowd and the race track. I immediately tried
to vault over the race barrier to get to Mathis. I felt a pull on my arm and
for a terrified moment I remembered the gunman, and thought he might be tugging
at me, furious that I’d interfered with his plan. I felt a lurch of terrible
fear as I was swung around to come face to face with…Sharon?

It
was
Sharon! Her eyes were wide and terrified, as
mine must have been.  I remembered that I had seen the gunman rushing off and
disappearing into the crowd, and it was unlikely that he would be coming back
for me.

I was too numb and distracted by Mathis’ condition to feel
any relief, annoyance, or concern for my friend. I greatly cared about Sharon,
but at that moment, nothing else mattered. I was leaving her alone in the
middle of a panicking crowd, right next to a gunman, and the only thought going
through my mind was Mathis. Just Mathis.

“Amanda! What the fuck are you doing?!” Sharon cried. “This
is insane – we need to get the hell out of here!”

“I have to see if he’s okay,” I said. I was surprised at how
calmly I had said it like it was a matter of course. I could barely even hear
my own voice over the noise of the crowd, but it didn’t matter.

“We’ll lose each other,” Sharon cried out. “It’s crazy out
here! We’ll get trampled!” I saw the panic in her face, but my fear for Mathis
was stronger than anything else.

“I have to!” I insisted.

“Have you lost your mind?” Sharon shouted.

“Don’t worry about me, just get out yourself!”

I wrenched my arm out of Sharon’s grip, pulling away from
her. If she called out to me, I didn’t hear her. She was a grown woman, I
thought. She could take care of herself, and so could I. It didn’t matter to me
if I was putting myself in danger, and Sharon would be safe enough as part of
the crowd. Forgetting her almost instantly, I vaulted over the barrier in one
try.

Her cell phone
rang, startling her out of her reverie and she considered not answering it. She
wasn't ready to talk to Brad yet. She hadn't made her decision yet and she had
a feeling that asking him to wait just a bit longer wouldn't be something that
he'd be willing to do. Still, she sighed, it wouldn't be fair to let it go to
voicemail when she was sitting right here. As soon as she saw the screen, she
was glad she'd gotten up. It wasn't Brad at all.

“Philip? Is
something wrong?” Jennifer was immediately concerned. Had he found a problem
with her work? Or, worse, had Eloisa told him about their conversation and he
was upset?

“No,” Philip
reassured her. “Nothing's wrong.” He hesitated, piquing Jennifer's curiosity.
“I was actually calling to see if you wanted to go to dinner with me tonight.
On a date.”

Jennifer was
momentarily speechless. Philip, who usually ordered rather than asked, even
when his words were in the form of a question, was actually asking her to go
out with him. This was a date out in public, not sex in a stairwell or a steamy
encounter in a hotel room. This was the type of thing that went along with a
real relationship. Suddenly, she realized that he was still waiting for an
answer.

“Of course. I'd
love to go.”

“Great!” There was
no mistaking the excitement in Philip's voice. “I'll pick you up in about an
hour.”

It was a good
thing, Jennifer decided, that Philip had given her an hour. Between showering,
picking out clothes and getting her hair and make-up done, she barely had five
minutes to spare. The clothes had been the hardest part. She wanted something
different than what she normally wore to work but wasn't sure exactly where
Philip was planning on taking her. Would he be thinking of something casual
because it was their first real date or because they'd already been having sex?
Or, would he want something fancier for either of the same reasons?

Philip wasn't one
to skimp on anything, she finally decided. If she was overdressed, she'd know
that she didn't know him as well as she thought she did. Because she didn't
really have a huge wardrobe, that narrowed down her options considerably.
Finally, she decided on her usual wedding-party dress. Rachel had helped her
pick it out the previous year and it was nice without being flashy. The dark
green made her hazel eyes appear more green than brown and it accentuated her
curves without being trashy. Though the hem was a little higher than she
normally wore and her cleavage more exposed, she liked the way she looked in
the dress.

The appreciative
expression on Philip's face when she opened the door told her that he liked how
she wore the dress as well. He held out the white roses in his hand, an almost
shy expression on his face. Jennifer was surprisingly touched by the display.
Whenever Brad had brought her flowers, they had been in place of an apology for
something he'd said or done. These, Jennifer thought as she put them in a vase,
came with no strings attached. After all, it wasn't like he needed to give her
anything to sleep with her. She'd shown that already.

They made small
talk as their driver took them across town. It was the first time, Jennifer
realized, that they'd talked about their likes and dislikes since that first
night when he'd asked about her music. The conversation continued as they
entered one of the nicest restaurants in town. She'd never been inside the
place, but the hostess greeted Philip by name. Not that it was a surprise. She
had a feeling most of the nicest businesses in town knew Philip Haas.

“Your usual table
is ready, Sir,” the hostess gave both Philip and Jennifer a warm smile. “If
you'll follow me.”

Philip extended his
hand to Jennifer, surprising her once more. He threaded his fingers through
hers and pulled her after him as they followed the hostess. The booth was in a
secluded corner, far enough from the other tables and booths that they were
virtually alone. As Jennifer slipped into one of the seats, she couldn't help
but notice that this wasn't the type of restaurant one used for business
meetings. The lighting was low and intimate, the music suited to a romantic
ambiance. It was the type of place Jennifer could imagine being taken for an
anniversary or for a proposal. She could almost see it: Philip down on one
knee, a ring box in his hand.

“Does that sound
okay?”

Jennifer blinked.
She'd completely missed the question. As the blood rose to her cheeks, she
hoped the lighting was dim enough to hide the blush. “I’m sorry, what?” She
mentally scolded herself for her distraction.

“The wine I
ordered. You didn't express an opinion, but I just wanted to make sure it was
okay.”

“Fine,” Jennifer
immediately answered even though she didn't know what he'd ordered. Besides the
fact that Philip knew more about these things than she did, wine was the last
thing on Jennifer's mind at the moment.

A few minutes later,
Jennifer's opinion was justified as the waiter poured the best wine Jennifer
had ever tasted. As they sipped their drinks and ate their appetizer, Philip
asked some little questions and invited Jennifer to do the same. They covered
books they'd both read and movies they'd seen as well as ones they had yet to
enjoy. Philip talked about the places he'd been and Jennifer told him about the
places she wanted to go. It was a pleasant surprise each time they found
another thing in common and Jennifer began to feel hope that there was more to
the two of them than amazing sex.

When the waiter
took away their empty plates and told them that their entrees would be out
shortly, the expression on Philip's face shifted, taking the energy between
them with it.

“Can I ask you
something personal?”

Jennifer's stomach
tightened and she was glad she'd only nibbled at the stuffed mushrooms. She
nodded. Without being told, she knew that this was going to tell her what she
needed to know to make her decision. “Of course.”

“What's your
relationship like with your parents?”

Okay, not the
question she'd been expecting, but she could see this conversation taking her
where she'd wanted to go for the past couple of days. She kept her answer
straightforward and simple. “I'd been out of touch with them for a while and
things are still a bit tense but we're working things out.”

She took a deep
breath and gave Philip more. She wanted it all out on the table. If they were
going to work, she didn't want to hold on to any secrets. “I was in a long-term
relationship that most of the other people in my life didn't approve of. Due to
some of the things that happened between my ex and me, things got very strained
with the people closest to me. He was controlling and kept me away from the people
who didn't like him, which was pretty much everyone. When we broke up, I went
to my friends and family and told them that I wanted to patch things up. Most
of them were willing to try.”

As she talked about
her parents, Jennifer pictured the expressions on their faces if she told them
that she was going to marry the man who'd kept them apart for so many years. It
wasn't a pleasant image. If Rachel disapproved and she hadn't been around when
Jennifer had been dating Brad, Jennifer was sure that her tenuous reconnection
with some of her old friends would be lost if she chose to accept his proposal.

The waiter slid
their plates in front of them as she finished her explanation. Philip thanked
the young man politely and waited for him to leave before turning his attention
back to Jennifer.

“I'm glad to hear
that your parents are such good people,” Philip started slowly. “You're
fortunate to have grown up with a family like that.” His fingers went to his
collar again and Jennifer could see on his face that he wanted to say more but
that he was struggling with something.

“If you don't mind
me returning the question,” Jennifer kept her voice soft and gentle, as if she
didn't want to spook him. “What's your relationship like with your parents?”

The relieved expression
on Philip's face told her that she'd made the right decision to ask.

“It wasn't like
yours, I can tell you that,” Philip took a sip of his wine. “When I was young,
everything was great. Typical hard-working, middle class family. But, that
wasn't enough for my father.” He took a bite of his steak and then motioned
towards her plate with his fork. “You should eat. That's a very good dish.”

Jennifer cut a
piece of her chicken and ate it. He was right. She took another bite as Philip
went on with his story.

“My dad worked
constantly to become a successful business owner, to become more rich and
powerful. And the stress – self-induced stress, most of it – took its toll. He
began to drink. At first it was just some scotch to wind down after a bad day,
but it became more and more as I grew older. By the time I was six or seven, he
had become the powerful man he wanted to be, but things at home were... bad.”
He tugged on his collar. “It wasn't much later that my mother left.”

Even though
Jennifer had already known this, hearing him say it tugged on her heart. She
reached out and lightly touched the back of his hand. “I'm sorry.”

Philip nodded and
pulled his hand back to take a few more bites of his meal. When he started
talking again, his voice was even, but Jennifer could sense an emotional
undercurrent. “I understand why she had to leave, but it took me a long time to
get to that point. At the time, I was just a kid who didn't know why he'd been
left alone with his father.”

Jennifer knew what
was coming next and almost wished that she could tell Philip that she already
knew about the boarding school, but she understood that this was as much about
him telling as it was about her listening. Sharing was difficult for him, but
it showed the level of trust he had in her and the level of intimacy he wanted.
She owed it to him to listen.

“It didn't take my
father long to figure out that he wasn't going to be able to handle raising me
alone. He tried hiring people, but it didn't work. Pretty much the only person
who I'd listen to was our housekeeper and groundskeeper's daughter, Eloisa. I
was ten when my father decided that he'd had enough of trying and he shipped me
off to a Paris boarding school. He sent Eloisa too, partly as a thanks to her
parents for everything that they'd done for our family, and partly to keep an
eye on me. Over the next eight years, I was kicked out of every boarding school
in Paris, then sent to several different schools in Vienna, London, Madrid,
and, finally, Switzerland. Twenty-two schools in eight years.” He gave Jennifer
a grin and she caught a glimpse of the boy he'd been. “At the last school, the
guidance counselor took me under her wing and helped me see that I was hurting
myself more than my father. She helped me get into one of the best schools in
the U.S. – it had never been my grades that had gotten me in trouble – and she
showed me that I could make something of myself.”

“When did you
decide to go into the hotel business?” Jennifer used the segue-way to ease into
the business, hoping that it would lead to connecting to his father.

“About the same
time. I realized that the best way to get back at my father was to do what he
did, only better.” Philip drained the last of his wine and poured himself a bit
more. “I ended up not only liking it, but being good at it. Now, I don't even
think of how it affects my father. Well,” he amended. “I hadn't until
recently.”

“What happened?”
Jennifer knew where the story needed to go even though she'd already heard this
part as well.

“Because of events
that happened when I was a child and the decisions I made in my professional
life, things between my father and I have always been very tense. Recently,
that's just gotten worse because my father is attacking my business.” Philip
met Jennifer's eyes for the first time since he'd started sharing his past.
“All of those calls I asked you step out of the room for, the mysterious
meetings, all of that was connected to my father.”

“Can I ask why…you
haven't just met with him to try to work things out?” Jennifer knew that she
was verging on overstepping her bounds, but if the father-son relationship was
that damaged, she wanted to help Philip move past it, to heal.

His smile was sad.
“I don't think he wants to work things out. I think he just wants to hurt me.”