Senior Advisor to the Boss: Billionaire Obsession Dark Romance (Managing the Bosses Series Book 9) (7 page)

“I’m worried about Alex,” Mark confessed.

“I am, too,” Christine said, looking up at him with her eyebrows drawn together and her mouth turned down. “And about Jamie. All of this business with the embezzler coming out on the news. If the company stock drops too far it could put them in a really bad position.”

Through the windows that looked down on the golf course, Mark could see Erica walking up from the driving range. There were a couple men beside her, all three of them dressed in golf clothes and talking animatedly, hands gesturing. He wondered what they were talking about.

“Mark?” Christine asked.

He turned back to look at her. “Sorry. I must have spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you think the company’s going to be okay,” Christine said. “What happens if it isn’t?”

“Alex has saved enough money that they aren’t really going to be in any financial trouble, even if the company goes down. Probably enough that they could comfortably live off it for the rest of their lives, even if neither of them ever worked again.”

“Comfortably,” Christine said. “But not happily.”

Mark knew that was true. Alex wouldn’t be happy if he had to give up his company.

“It’s not going to come to that,” he answered. “They’ll find out who’s doing this, and stop them, and it will be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The door opened just then, admitting Erica and the two men with her, and Mark turned away from Christine and the desk to stride across the floor toward them.

“Welcome to Little Lake Country Club,” he said, giving them his best fake smile. “How do you like the place so far?”

“We're in love with it, frankly,” the man on Erica's left said. He held out his hand for Mark to shake. “I'm Dale Richardson.”

Mark knew the name. “Dale Richardson,” Mark repeated. “Wow. I'm flattered that you like my club. I know that you've played at some of the best in the world.”

The other man's grin widened. “Sometimes the smallest places surprise you the most.”

Smallest? Little Lake wasn't exactly huge, but it wasn't like it was some hole in the wall, no name place. They'd been all over the news when they opened, and even after everything that happened with Nicholas the publicity had been good. People liked his country club.

Erica must have seen the expression shift on his face, because she smiled a little too widely and introduced the second man as Nathaniel Brown. It was another name Mark recognized, and he held out his hand to the other man, and offered a smile.

“And you? What do you think of our humble little club?”

“I think that you've really got some potential here,” Nathaniel Brown said, and Mark had to force himself not to change his expression in response. “I know that you're about to do some renovations, and I think that once those are done you'll have quite the paradise here.”

They had paradise already. Mark looked at Erica, who was giving him a kind of helpless look back. He would have expected more from her, considering that she was the one who'd gotten them into the FedEx Tour, but apparently in the face of other professional players she couldn't have his back. Mark's jaw tightened, but he still smiled. “Well, we were accepted as a stop on the Tour already, but we want to make sure that we're in top shape next year when they come through.”

“As does anyone who gets a spot,” Richardson said. “You've got a great start here, and I can't wait to see it once you've finished the rest. I know that getting a place to exactly where you want it can be difficult, so we'd like to help you out a bit with that.”

“We'll take all the help we can get,” Mark said, hating himself for it. His brother wouldn't have responded that way. He would have known something to say that graciously accepted the offer without making it sound like he was in need of any kind of help. “What were you thinking?”

“Well,” Richardson said, “Nate and I were thinking that we might each donate a few autographed balls. Maybe even a club. Let you auction them off to raise some money for revisions on the place.”

So that was why Erica hadn't said anything, because they were offering money. Never mind that Mark didn't really need it; he could get money on his own without condescending offers to donate signed balls from some pro-golf pricks who obviously had some kind of interest in his girlfriend.

“Well, we're not too down on our luck as far as money goes. I'm sure you know that my brother has a pretty well-established business of his own, and he's one of our biggest funders. But we're more than happy to run an auction for some of your signed items. It will be good publicity for the place.”

Erica shot him a look that said she didn't approve of him acting like he didn't need the money, but he
didn't
need the money, and he was tired of bowing and scraping to these people. He wasn't going to beg for scraps like a puppy. No matter what she thought they needed from these two.

“You're talking about Alex Reid?” Brown asked.

“That would be him.”

Both of the pros shook their heads.

“It's really too bad what's going on with his business,” Richardson said. “I'd heard that he was really talented. Started it early and took it all the way to the top. But the news yesterday seemed to suggest that he might be losing it.”

“I've got to say that I didn't know embezzlers were like that,” Brown added. “Usually they're pretty easy to catch, aren't they?”

Mark's teeth clenched together until it hurt but he didn't tell them to fuck off, no matter how much he wanted to. “If you're going to talk about the business, you really have to understand that Alex has some enemies. People who are jealous of his success and don't want him to keep going in the direction that he's going. One of them, if you might remember some news from not too long ago, is in prison currently. Well, two, if you go back a little farther. My brother survived an assassination attempt, and the betrayal of a friend. And he's still going strong, despite this issue with the embezzler. They're going to catch him, and when they do he can join his friends in jail.”

The two pros exchanged glances with each other, and then with Erica, and Mark couldn't read what was crossing their faces.

His eyes narrowed. “Do you have something to say that contradicts that?”

“What?” Richardson turned to look at him, his expression surprised. “No. Not at all. The news made it look pretty bleak, but you know how the press is. They're going to paint everything in the worst light just to get more views. I'm sure that you know your brother's situation better than the general public does.”

“His company is big enough that it can handle a brief crash in its stock prices,” Brown added.

Mark's hands curled into fists at his sides. Now they were patronizing him, and he was about done with both of them. And with Erica, who hadn't said a word about any of it despite the fact that she easily could have. He looked over at her, and she looked back at him like she was wondering what his issue was. Like she didn't know exactly what the problem had been.

“As great as it's been to meet you gentlemen,” Mark said, “I'm afraid that I'm going to have to go look in on some other parts of the club, make sure that everything is running smoothly. If you want to donate anything, please talk to Erica about it. She'll handle that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Richardson said, and held out his hand again for Mark to shake.

Mark took it despite his irritation with the man, and shook Brown's as well, then turned on his heel and walked away. He could feel their eyes on him, but he really didn't care.

***

“What the hell was that?” Erica demanded when she came upstairs in the evening. “You treated them like they were some kind of dirt under your shoe instead of very famous professional golfers offering to help you and your business.”

“Offering to help me?” Mark turned to look at her. “They were insulting me and Alex left and right, and the only reason that I didn’t answer them the same way is that I’m in a position where I have to be professional. And you didn’t even say a word about it, when you could have without it being a problem.”

“A word about what?” Erica spun around to look at him from where she was taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Do you really think that they were trying to insult you? Because that is not what was happening. Lucky for you I got you the autographed pieces, so you don’t have to give up that opportunity just because you were rude to them.”

Mark stood up. “
I
was rude? What did I do that was rude?”

“You looked at them like they were trash!”

“Only because they insulted me and then my brother. And don’t think that I didn’t see that patronizing crap for what it was when they backtracked on it after I called them out.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Erica mumbled, more to herself than to him. “I cannot believe this.”

“Can’t believe that I care about my brother, and the fact that he’s on the news right now for yet another thing that he can’t help and they’re tearing him down again in front of the entire world just because he’s famous?” Mark’s voice was tight.

“Do you really think that’s what I just said, Mark? Are you listening to me at all?”

“I’m listening to you completely refuse to understand what happened out there, sure.”

They stared across the room at each other, and Mark was uncomfortably reminded of nights with his ex-wife, doing much the same thing. Maybe that impulse ring buy hadn’t been the right choice after all. Did he really want to spend more time arguing with a woman he would probably have to leave or let go when they started fighting more often than not? He’d thought that wouldn’t happen with Erica, but here he was, doing it all over again.

“You know what?” Erica snapped. “I’m going to give you some space, because you’re obviously having some problems you need to work through here.” She pulled her jacket back on and started for the door.

Mark watched her go, wondering if he was supposed to stop her and not sure that he wanted to. “You do that,” he said in the end, and she stormed out without another word. He sighed, sinking down onto the couch and dropping his head into his hands. That really wasn’t the way that he had wanted things to go. Also, he could really use a drink.

When he got down to the bar, Christine was there, sipping from a bottle of root beer. They were the only two people in the room. All the customers were gone, most of the staff, too, and the rest cleaning up before heading home.

“You okay?” she asked as he stepped behind the bar to make himself something.

“I’m fine,” Mark said. “Why?”

Christine gave him a look that Mark thought might be the one Jamie had mentioned when talking about Christine before she’d changed, sharp and a little impatient, one eyebrow arched. “Because I just saw your girlfriend come through here and I’m pretty sure the air around her was boiling.”

Mark sighed, and took a seat with his whiskey. “That obvious, huh?”

“As obvious as the fact that you’re evidently upset about something and that something probably involves Erica.”

“We had a fight,” Mark admitted. “Over those two pros who were in here earlier.”

“I thought they were kind of jerks, to be honest,” Christine said, and Mark nodded.

“That’s why we were fighting over them. Erica thinks I had some kind of grudge against them, but my only issue was the way that they talked about my club, and about Alex.”

“I couldn’t hear the whole conversation from all the way over by the desk, but what I did hear sounded like they were kind of dragging you two through the mud. I think you had every right to be annoyed.”

“Yeah, well, Erica doesn’t think so. She’s acting like I’m being completely unreasonable,” Mark said with a huff.

“Maybe she just doesn’t understand,” Christine offered.

“She doesn’t understand because she doesn’t want to understand,” Mark answered. “It’s really simple.”

Christine lifted a hand and laid it over his. “I’m sure that she’ll come around. Give it some time, and maybe try to explain it a little more calmly.”

Mark nodded, sighing. “You’re probably right. I’ll try that.” He found a smile for her. “Thank you, Christine. I really appreciate you taking the time to listen.”

“What are sisters-in-law for?”

Chuckling, Mark took a sip of his whiskey. “The same back to you. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

She smiled at him, and her hand fell away. They both fell silent, sipping their respective drinks, and Mark wondered how he was going to explain his frustration to Erica without making her angry again. He didn’t want to fight with her now that the anger of the moment had faded.

The ring was upstairs, hidden in his sock drawer. One little fight wasn’t going to stop him from wanting to propose to the woman that he was in love with. Which reminded him that he still needed to find out her ring size, but he didn’t know how he was going to do it without alerting her to his plan. Unless… He turned to look at Christine again.

“While you’re in helpful sister-in-law mode,” he said, flashing a smile to let her know that he was teasing. “I was wondering if you might know the best way for me to find out Erica’s ring size without letting her know that’s what I’m doing.”