Priceless: Contemporary Billionaire Romance Novel (15 page)

“He never told me how he made his
money.”

Maribel’s eyes followed Miles.  He
was headed up a flight of stairs, but stopped to look back at Gillian who
lingered behind him.  They were staring at each other, as if they were the only
ones in the room, and it suddenly made Maribel flush with jealousy.

“Yeah, Brax prides himself on being
an enigma.  See that guy?” Timothy nodded over to the man hunched on a stool at
the bar. “That’s Brax’s former business partner.  They both started working at
the Chicago Board of Trade at the same time.  Brax created a proprietary trading
algorithm and Mitchell sold it to one of the big pension hedge funds for a ninety/ten
split.  That was the last time Brax ever let someone sell him short in a deal,
I guarantee you.  A year later, Brax created a second trading algorithm, and sold
it himself.  Five years later, Brax was buying his first downtown Chicago
building while Mitchell was fighting foreclosure on his Northshore home.  It
was Brax who bailed him out.  Paid off the debt and brought Mitchell back into
the fold to manage their own hedge fund together.  That’s the difference
between owning your own destiny versus selling out someone else’s.  It not a
business strategy for Braxton, it’s a way of life.”

“I couldn’t agree more…”

 “Hello, Gillian,” Timothy greeted
her with politeness.

“Hello, Handsome,” she countered,
reaching out her long red nails to adjust his tie. “Babysitting?” she glanced
over to Maribel.

“Getting acquainted,” he corrected
her. “Shouldn’t you be in the war room?”

Gillian shrugged.  “War is for
men.  Clubbing each other over the head isn’t exactly the way women go about
getting what they want.  Am I right?” Gillian lobbed the question to Maribel.

“I think I’m going to freshen up my
drink,” Maribel said, searching out a diplomatic escape.

“Oh, that’s what Timmy is for…”
Gillian swept up Maribel’s wine glass from her hand and passed it off to him.

“Chardonnay?” he asked Maribel.

“Yes, that’s fine, thank you,” she
answered with quiet dread.  Her mind was quickly considering some way she could
accompany Timothy rather than be left alone with Gillian.

“And you, my dear?”

“Whatever she’s having…” Gillian
outlined his chin with her fingertip. “Thanks, love.  You’re always such a doll.”

Timothy paused with hesitation—as
if to make certain that Gillian would behave herself—before returning to the
bar.  When the two women were finally alone, Gillian sneered down on Maribel,
and she noted Maribel’s luxury watch.

“Well, isn’t that romantic. A brand
new watch.  You two must really be hitting it off.”

Maribel had been bullied in
elementary school on the school bus, so she knew silence was her only defense. 
She knew exactly what Gillian was doing, and she wasn’t going to give in to
her.  But she could feel Gillian’s glare, searing into her.

 “Let me guess…” Gillian continued,
her eyes trailing down Maribel’s neckline, “the ruby pendant necklace was
first.  Brax does always like to start modest. Can’t set expectations too high
from the start, or else the Tiffany jewelry won’t seem like such a stunning
surprise.”

Gillian shifted her eyes over to
Maribel’s diamond tennis bracelet. “See what I mean?  I’m sure he bought you
that lovely thing after you agreed to sleep with him the first time.  Although I’m
surprised he settled on white gold.  He always chose yellow gold for me.  Then,
again… he never offered me anything except jewelry.  Oh, and great sex.  But in
some ways, that was enough.  He does have an irresistible way with food,
doesn’t he?”

Maribel felt her face flush.  She turned
her eyes to Timothy.  He was still waiting at the bar for their drinks.  She
looked around at all the elegant strangers—no one offered her sanctuary. 
Maribel felt herself trying not to frown, but instead, she frowned more.

Gillian lowered her voice and
sighed.  “Or maybe, he simply thinks you’re special.  I’m sure he’s told you
that already, am I right?  It’s one of his favorite lines.  Although it looks
like he’s forgotten the earrings.  Maybe
that
will be his surprise gift
tonight after he closes the Olson & Anderson deal.  He always bought me
something grandiose whenever we closed a deal.  Although Brax is also good at
getting whatever he wants for as little as possible.  Maybe he figures a shop
girl at a department store isn’t that hard to please, and he can get away with
giving nothing extra at all.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong about
him,” Maribel abruptly countered with a flash of anger.

 “Ahhhh, so you do have a
personality? Not just a pretty face,” Gillian surveyed her.  “I was wondering
what your appeal was to him.  But I see it now.  Brax does always like a good
challenge.  Watch out for that granite island in his penthouse.  It’s one of
his favorite places to get you flat on your back.”

Maribel suddenly felt the desperate
need to defend Miles as well as their relationship. “Perhaps it was all about
sex for you.  But it’s different between us.”

 “Really?  I don’t think so,
cupcake.  I’m sure it feels like ‘love’ now—that’s how they
all
get us
to submit in the beginning, and convince us spread our legs open and often.  But
I’ve known Brax for years.  You and Brax have only been together less than a
week, am I right?”

Maribel’s eyes swam with emotion.
“How would you know that?”

“Because he only broke it off with
me a few days ago,” Gillian confessed, like it was a dark secret.  “Unless…of
course, you think he’s been double-dipping.”

Maribel suddenly felt nauseous. 
Her hissing voice and the smell of her cigarette breath was simply too much to
bear.  Maribel suddenly turned away and bumped into Timothy, who had returned
with their wine glasses.

“Excuse me,” Maribel said, pushing
past him and out through the hallway to the main entrance foyer.  She heard
Timothy calling after her, but it only encouraged her to rush out the door,
where she saw several parked limousines and their drivers, smoking and
loitering in the circular driveway.

“Please, could one of you drive me back
to Chicago?” Maribel rummaged through her purse. “I have forty dollars. 
Please…anyone?

“I can drive you back.”

Maribel glanced over at the source
of the voice.  The man looked like he could be Maribel’s younger brother.  He
didn’t acknowledge how or why he was able to leave the party.  Perhaps he knew
he would be waiting on his guests all night, and he figured he could get to the
city and back before dawn.  Perhaps he noticed the mascara streaming down
Maribel’s face, or the fact that she was shivering uncontrollably in the winter
night air without her coat.  Perhaps forty-dollars was simply worth the three-hour
roundtrip drive.  Regardless of the reason, the driver swiftly blunted out his
cigarette with his boot, saved the remainder in his pocket, and opened the
passenger door of his black limousine for her. 

“Thank you,” she whispered and wiped
black streaks from her cheeks while trying hard not to look at him again.  She
slipped across the limo’s beige leather seats and bit her lip.  With trembling
hands, she removed the ruby pendant, tennis bracelet and luxury watch that
Miles had given to her and passed them forward to the driver.

“This is your tip.”

The driver slammed on the brakes. 
“Wow, for real?”

Maribel nodded listlessly, then
settled herself into the back seat—out of sight from his rear view mirror. 
When she felt the wheels of the limo accelerate and saw the mansion estate
drift away through her window, she finally gave herself permission to weep, vowing
it would be the last time she would pretend to be part of a world that was not
her own.

Chapter Fifteen

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh,
whoosh, whoooooooooosh
……

Miles always loved that sound and
the sensation of lift-off.

He suddenly felt Maribel squeeze
his hand. 
Yes, it was terrifying and exhilarating
, he thought and swung
his arm around her for comfort as they hung suspended in the middle of the
sky.  Miles tracked the helicopter’s shadow slinking across the rooftops of
skyscrapers.  No matter how many times Miles flew through the air, the
sensation of ultimate freedom never got old.  Ahead in the cockpit, he heard
the pilots reciting the navigation calls through his headphones.  Everything
sounded calm and routine.  It was a beautiful evening, made more beautiful by
the fact that he was not alone.  He watched Maribel peering out across the vast
open waters of Lake Michigan. By tomorrow, the deal would be closed and no one
would want or need anything else from him.  He would whisk her away on his sail
boat—just the two of them—and make love to her in the solace of daylight and
serenity of night.

Suddenly, dread replaced
exhilaration. 
They were here already
.  The helicopter cleared the rocky
bluffs before touching down into the expansive green pasture near the edge of
the estate.  Miles pushed open the door and saw the co-pilot waiting to receive
Maribel into his hands. 
It was all clockwork
. 
Just as it should be
. 
Miles expected the same from tonight.

Swooooosh
…
The gusting draft from the helicopter blades whipped them with violence.  Miles
embraced Maribel with protection and led her through the garden terrace towards
the house.  He had planned to use the back patio entrance intentionally.  He
wanted to slip in and out. 
It needed to be done fast
, he thought.  He
hated the idea of returning to his former life—so soon after escaping it—but even
more, he hated the idea of exposing Maribel to it.

Several couples with cocktails mingled
near an open pit fireplace.  Miles heard their hardy laughter.

“You just can’t arrive in
limousines like the rest of us, can you, Brax?” the familiar voice exclaimed. 

Josie
,
Miles noted without acknowledging her. 
Thank God, he never slept with her
like every other son-of-a-bitch in their circle
. 
And who was she with
tonight
? 
Peter Grayson
.  Miles nodded to Peter, but did not stop. 
He didn’t see Peter’s wife, Miranda. 
Cheating bastard
. 

“It wouldn’t be Miles Braxton-Worth
any other way,” Peter chimed in. “Glad to see you finally made it.  Gary said
you’ve been tied up with extracurricular activities.  Can’t wait to hear all
about them.”

“Nothing to tell, Pete.  Business
as usual.”

“Which means he doesn’t kiss and
tell, Pete,” Josie said with a flirtatious shrug of her bare shoulder. 

“Well, neither do I—officially,”
Peter countered, flashing his wedding band. Then, he called after Miles.

 “Brax, I’m starting up a new hedge
fund in China, we should talk.”

Miles nodded and locked hands with
Maribel. 
I’ve moved on from you—from all of you
.  He passed her through
the sliding screen doors and away from the couple without being forced to
provide introductions. When he glanced back, Miles saw Josie eyeing them. 
Maribel looked stunning in her sequined dress—the same one she had modeled for
him before they made love that afternoon. 
Maribel would make any woman
jealous in that dress
, Miles thought as he watched Josie tracking them with
her eyes.  His first obstacle of the night had been avoided.  He knew it
wouldn’t be their last. 

Miles towed Maribel forward into
the house.  They entered the grand living room.  Live music bounced off its
glass-paneled walls and cathedral ceilings. 
Mariachi music
? 
Son-of-a-bitch. 
Gary was serious
.

“Brax—” Gary’s voice boomed over
the trumpets and maracas.

Miles turned and saw Gary, donning
a large black sombrero and jetting over to them.

 “Impressive,” Miles said, shaking
his hand and noting the sombrero.

“I am both a man of the law and a
man of my word,” Gary replied, throwing back his tumbler and crunching down on
its ice.  Gary suddenly eyed Maribel. “I wasn’t certain you were going to show,
but now, I understand why.  Please tell me this is the little mouse with whom
you’ve been sneaking your cheese for the entire weekend and all shall be
forgiven.”  Gary moved behind Maribel to remove her coat.

Miles smirked—Gary was such a
womanizer, and certainly the last man on earth to care about social propriety. 
Miles waited to see if Gary would demand to know Maribel’s name; the less information
that Miles betrayed about her tonight, the better for both of them.

“Congratulations, Brax.  You’ve got
everyone chasing their tails.  No one expected this deal to be postponed for
this long.”

 “I’m not the one who decided to
shop it.”

“But you were the one who decided
to put a freeze on it the whole weekend.  So are you here to close it, or not?”

“That depends, Gary.  How much am I
supposed to give up?”

 “I have the seventy-page contract
on my desk in the den,” Gary lowered his voice, and crunched down on his last
cube of ice.  “They’ve included every single deal point except the escalation. 
They’re keeping it at eight.  But clearly, you’ve got Olson by the balls
because he doesn’t want to be in Harvey Zale’s palm…. Hello, Marzena, lovely as
always,” Gary suddenly took Marzena’s hand and swept her close for a side kiss
on her cheek.

“Thank you, darling,” she slurred
with her Slavic accent. “I love the Mexican
hor d’oeuvres
and the
margaritas.” She lifted up her empty glass.

“Requested by the man of the hour,”
Gary nodded at Miles.

 “Nice to see you, Brax,” Marzena
held out her hand for Miles to touch it, just as she was slinking away to the
bar.  “It’s been such a long time.” 

“Marzena, tell him to be nice to me
tonight,” Gary teased.  “I’m on his side.”

Marzena pouted on cue. “Don’t be
too much of a meanie tonight, Brax.  It’s still so early.  Do whatever Gary
wants, then come have a drink.”

Miles could tell that Marzena was
already wasted.  The last time he saw Marzena was after her messy, vicious
divorce and her equally scandalous affair with Gary, who was retained as her
husband’s real estate lawyer. 
Gary should have taken better care of her
during the divorce
, Miles thought as his eyes lingered on Marzena’s
unbalanced gait.  She always had a soft spot for crass, liquor drinking men.  Miles
steadied her with his hand before she finally pulled away from him. 

Both men watched Marzena saunter
back to the bar.  Then, Miles flipped back to business. “Escalation at eight percent
is bargain for them.  I asked for thirteen.”

“Don’t be such a stubborn
son-of-a-bitch, Brax.  Olson is here to do the deal, and I can probably get him
to nine.  But he’s ready to sign, and the contract has the escalation set at
eight.  He’s been waiting for you the last fucking hour.  If you blow up the
deal tonight, all bets are off.”

Miles scanned the grand living
room.  He saw a group of laughing guests near the decorative champagne
waterfall.  Then, he saw her. 

“What’s she doing here?” Miles said,
accusatory.

“Gillian?” Gary countered,
following his gaze. “She’s with them.  I know you dropped her on her ass, but
she’s still their broker on the deal.  Plus, you know Gillian better than
anyone.  She’s a canine bitch—her jaws won’t open until her teeth meet.” 

Miles surveyed the group—Don Olson,
his wife, Annabelle, their lawyer, Wendell, and Gillian. 
Fucking son-of-a-bitch
. 
Miles watched Gillian suddenly throw back her bleached blonde hair with grating
laughter.  He had come to hate that laugh.  Slowly, he loosened his grip on
Maribel’s hands.  Plans were going to have to change.  There was no way he was
going to get the deal done with Gillian in the room, and there was no way he
could leave Maribel alone at the party if he knew Gillian was circling like a
shark, waiting for the perfect moment to sink her teeth into her.  Miles searched
the room for a safety net—
Timothy
.  He was standing near Olson, talking
to his lawyer.  Timothy’s eyes lifted for a moment.  Miles nodded him over.  Timothy
confirmed and graciously bowed out of the conversation and headed towards
them. 
Timmy,
Miles thought,
he could always count on Timmy
.

“Are you going to bring them over,
or do I have to do everything myself?” Miles said to Gary, calculating his next
four moves on the chessboard. 

Gary smirked and stopped a server
whisking by them with a tray of white wine glasses.  He lifted up two glasses
and passed them off to Miles and Maribel. “Take the edge of first.  I’ll see if
I can warm Olson up before getting you two in the same room.”

Gary stole a tray of
hor
d’oeuvres
from another server, then swaggered across the room.  Miles watched
Gary greet Don Olson with fanfare, pulling off his sombrero and slapping his
own backside like he was a rodeo rider. 
Gary could be such an asshole
. 
Miles’ eyes fell on Gillian; she was already watching him.  She gazed back at
Miles with a nod from her margarita glass.  Technically, he had already won.  They
both knew it.  Olson was here to do
his
deal.  But Miles knew Gillian
better than that.  She’d never let him have the final victory, and her searing feline
gaze confirmed it. 

Miles’ looked back at the flaming
helix in the fireplace.  His jaw flinched with agitation until he heard the
familiar voice of one of his best friends.

“I must have the honor of meeting
your gorgeous date.”  Timothy immediately held out his hand to Maribel and
introduced himself.  “Timothy.”

“Maribel,” she smiled softly. 
Miles realized it was the first thing she had said all evening. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Timothy
released her hand, then turned to Miles. “Gary didn’t think you would show.  He
accused me of not properly doing my job.”

“You can only manage my money,
Timmy.  You can’t manage me.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.  I
suspect your new lovely friend has learned that lesson as well.”  Timothy’s
eyes twinkled at Maribel.  Miles watched him take in her natural beauty and
grace.  Even while admiring his date, Miles still knew Timothy was a friend who
he could always trust. 

“Brax,” Gary abruptly called out
across the room. “C’mon over here so we can draw swords and fight to the pain.”

“There you go,” Timothy nodded,
sipping from his brandy.  “Leave it to Gary to force all the enemies in one
room, just to see how much blood they’ll draw.”

Miles peered over at Maribel and
smiled with reassurance. “Five minutes, and then we’ll go outside to look at
the stars,” he promised her.  Then, he turned to Timothy. “Take care of her for
me.”

“If she can handle you, Brax,”
Timothy replied, “I’m fairly certain she can hold her own.”

Maribel smiled.  Timothy was right.
 She wasn’t a child, and Miles knew Maribel could hold her own.  He patted
Timothy on the shoulder; nothing more needed to be said.  Miles was here to do
the deal, and then, he would celebrate the night with Maribel.  He winked at
her with affection before crossing the grand living room to join up with the
Olson crowd. 

His first priority was to isolate
Olson. “Good evening, gentlemen.  Nice to finally have a chance to meet face-to-face
without the counter-productive meddling of our lawyers and brokers.”  Miles
shook Don Olson’s hand and kissed his wife on the cheek, but he was careful to
exclude everyone else in the group from acknowledgement.

“Hey, that counter-productive meddling
is called ‘negotiating,’” Gary corrected him.

 “And I’m here to make sure that my
client always knows all his options,” Gillian jumped in, anticipating Miles’
strategic maneuver to alienate her.

“I’m pretty sure at this stage in
the game Olson doesn’t need his broker to act like his babysitter.  That’s what
Wendell is for…” Miles eyed Olson’s lawyer. 

“If you think you’re throwing me
out of my own house, Brax, you’ve clearly forgotten who has the key to the
liquor cabinet.” Gary pulled out a small antique key from his vest pocket.

“I’m fine with just legal counsel,”
Olson said with his Southern drawl, “so long as they keep their mouths shut and
provide free Scotch.”

Miles glanced at Gary. “Asking Gary
to keep his mouth shut is like asking a dog not to bark at a squirrel.”
Everyone laughed.  Gary knew it was his job to take the joke and run with it.
He feigned shame and turned the key over his over mouth. “Ruff, ruff… you’re
still paying me by the hour.”

“Trust me.  I see all your bills,”
Miles added for show.  “I pay you by the minute.” 

The group laughed again.  Miles waved
them all forward, up a half-flight of stairs towards Gary’s den.  “Shall we, gentlemen?”