Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (23 page)

Chapter
Twenty

Reality

Nick

The board room is empty,
but it won’t be for long. I’ve called a meeting and we’re going to discuss the
terms of my resignation as CEO of Stingray.

There just isn’t a point
anymore. I’ve tried to change directions, tried announcing one of the more
notable things we were saving for next spring—a cellphone that builds up a
small backup charge with every step a person takes, rewarding them with extra
off-the-charger time for physical activity—but everyone hailed it for exactly
what it was: the last desperate attempt of a man who can’t let go.

Even if I could keep my
job, the company’s not pulling out of this nosedive without something drastic.
Maybe this will be seen as just another desperate attempt, maybe not. All I
know is I’m not willing to see what feels like the only thing I have left go up
because I’m not willing to give up control of it.

I’m going to be one of
those guys all the late night guys talk about for a while, but lately, what
else is new?

The door opens and the
board starts filing in, one by one. I knew they were expecting this meeting
sooner or later, but they could have done a better job hiding the fact.

“Come in and have a
seat,” I tell them. “There’s only one item on the agenda, and I think we all
know what it is.”

“We’ve done some new
math,” Reeves says. “I think we can nearly double your legacy fee if you’re
willing to step down now.”

“That won’t be
necessary,” I say, raising a hand. “We’re doing bad enough without me grabbing
a huge payout on my way out the door. I want two things and two things only,” I
say.

“All right,” Reeves says.
“We’re listening.”

“First,” I start, “I’ll
transfer my stock in the company over to whomever replaces me, but I keep all
my private holdings. I won’t screw the workers the way you’re going to, but I’m
not going to be left humiliated
and
destitute.”

“What else?” Reeves asks,
scratching his red chin in anticipation.

“Second, I know I can’t
convince you not to move the company,” I say, “but we’re going to do right by
all our employees. Everyone gets a fair severance and a recommendation.”

“Define ‘fair,’” Reeves
says.

“They keep their benefits
for one year after they’re laid off or until they find another job, and they
get no less than sixty-percent of what they would have made over the same
period,” I answer.

“That’s going to cost a
lot of money we frankly can’t throw around right now,” Reeves says. “I don’t
know if we can do that and keep the company afloat. After the expense of that
building in Mulholland that’s never going to get used. You left us with a
state-of-the-art office building in a place nobody wants to go.”

“You have my terms,” I
say. “Take it or leave it, but I’m warning you: You leave
it,
and you’re going to spend the last days of
this company trying to pry me out of my office because I will
not
leave my people with nothing. And
make no mistake, they
are
my people.
Either you meet my terms, or I’ll make sure each one of you goes down just as
hard as I do.”

“Well,” Reeves says, almost
tripping over himself sitting down, “I’m sure we can figure out something, but
we’ll need to look into the numbers.”

“I had accounting look
into it,” I tell him. “Malcolm will make sure you all get a copy of the full
report. You’re right, Reeves, it is going to be expensive, but if we’re going
to get through this with any sort of marketability—screw that,” I say. “It’s
the right thing to do, and you all know it.”

“And will you be
bankrolling any of this personally?” Verne, the smug do-nothing asks.

“We’ll talk about it if
it comes to that,” I say, “but I’ve seen the numbers and it
is
doable.”

Reeves starts, “Are you
saying you’re okay with the company moving to—”

“I’m not okay with it and
I never will be,” I say. “But I’m not a fool. For a while, it looked like the
company was going to rebound, but I’ve learned enough to know when something’s
not working.”

The board talks amongst
themselves and I just zone out. It’s a yes or no proposition, but they’re going
to say yes. I’m giving them more than they wanted.

In a minute, one of them
is going to figure out they can pay the worker’s pensions from the legacy money
I won’t be taking and they’re going to run out of reasons to debate.

I had Marly and Malcolm
both look into it. These eight who’ve been bemoaning the relatively
insignificant cost of the headquarters in Mulholland were going to send me away
with more money than I could ever spend—and I’ve developed some expensive
tastes. A few years ago, I even had a satellite put into orbit so I’d have
something interesting to look at when I’m in the bathroom.

Why? Because I could.

The board finally comes
around to the right conclusion and Reeves tells me, “We’ll have to do some more
checking, but what you’re proposing should be doable.”

“Great,” I say. “I
already have the paperwork prepared.” I press the intercom button just below
the table.

“Yes, Mr. Scipio?”
Rochelle, the closest assistant I have to the board room, responds through the
speaker.

I say, “Would you send
Marly in, please?”

“Um, she says she wants
to talk to you before she takes anything anywhere,” Rochelle says.

“I’m on my way,” I say
and stand. “Well, gentleman, it looks like I’ll be bringing in the contract
myself, just as soon as I fire someone. I’d make your move on CEO pretty quick
and make it good,” I tell the board. “You pick the wrong kind of evil to
replace me and you’ll lose investors than you would with me still at the helm.”

I walk down the hall to
Rochelle’s office. Marly is waiting outside and she’s reading through the
papers.

“You’re fired,” I tell
her.

“Yeah,” she says, “you
tell me that so often, I just stopped believing it. Have you read these?”

“I wrote them,” I say.
“Well, I had Malcolm help with the legalese, but yes, I’ve read them.”

“Are you out of your
mind?” she asks. “You’re just going to give up after all this? Tell me this
doesn’t have anything to do with that woman.”

“It has to do with the
fact that I can’t save this company any more than I can save my own job,” I
tell her. “They’re going to take it from me one way or another. At least this
way, I get a chance to soften the blow a little.”

“You’re Saint Freaking
Nikolai,” she says, “but this deal screws you.”

“Hey, I’ll still be a
millionaire,” I tell her. “Maybe I’ll open the feed from ‘Seriously, They’re
Letting Me Name My Own Satellite’—obviously a terrible mistake, granted—to the
public. Sure, not everyone has digital floors, but I bet it would make a nice
screensaver.”

“You know,” she says, “if
you’re experiencing delusions, we can probably turn this whole thing around with
the sympathy investment.”

I smile and chuckle. I
even put my arm around Marly, who’s been such a good evil confidant over so
many years. “There really isn’t a bottom for you, is there?” I ask.

“I just calls ‘em as I
sees ‘em,” she says, cracking a smile. “You really want to do this?” she asks.
“After this, you won’t have any sway over what the board or the next CEO does.
You can probably lobby them, but they’re going to do what they’re going to do.”

“Without this deal, the
people who helped build this company and keep it going get nothing,” I tell
her. “I’m going to be rich the rest of my life. This is the least I can do.”

“Do you really want
firing me to be your last act as CEO before you sign this thing?” she asks, her
voice softening to a tone I’ve never heard before.

“I’ll hire you back, but
I’m going to need a drink after this,” I tell her. “Have one waiting for me in
my office when I get done.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she
says and, though hesitant, she hands me the paperwork. “Do you want something
easy to help you relax or do you want them carrying you out of here with your
head in a bucket while you yell incoherently about the government?”

I cock my head at her.

“Mom was a drinker,” she
says.

“I’d like to be able to
walk, but apart from that, I say go crazy,” I answer.

Marly smiles and we part
ways, possibly for the last time. We have a lot of history, but she’s not the
type to call to grab a drink. She’s been with me and the company almost from
the start and I don’t even know if she lives in the city or if she commutes.

This is a difficult
decision, but I knew there was a possibility I’d have to make it eventually. I
was just hoping that Jacque might actually deign to answer the door or the
phone or call back for once in his life. He meant what he said, though. When he
was done, he was done.

I walk into the board
room and I have Mason Handler witness as I sign my portions of the document.
From there, I slide it over to him and tell the board, “I’ll need the rest of
the day to clear out my office.”

The sadists actually
applaud as I leave the room.

When Marly asked if I was
doing this because of Ellie, I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell the whole truth,
either. I’m not sure what the future holds for Ellie and me, but I do know if
I’m ever going to find that sweet person again, I have to be done.

It’s true that the
company’s going under if I stay in as CEO: The board and their proxies did a
great job painting me as the culprit. I got the least that I wanted out of the
deal, but at least it’s something. They never would have agreed if I’d pushed
too hard to select my own replacement.

The truth is, though,
this whole life I built, I built around her. I’ve come to appreciate and
respect my people, but there’s no need for me to fight it. It probably wouldn’t
change anything anyway.

I get in front of my
office and Nolan stands, saying, “Sir, I just want to tell you, I heard what
you did, and I wanted to thank you.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Hey, I’m
going to be taking care of some final things in my office for a little while.
Would you hold my calls and just make sure I’m not disturbed?”

“Of course, sir,” he
says. “Sir, do you know what you’ll be doing after this?”

I chuckle. “I’ll probably
live out my days watching CNBC and raving about how once, way back in the day,
I used to run things,” I answer. “I think I’m done with the corporate world,” I
tell him.

“One more thing,” he says
as I’m opening the door to my office. “There’s someone in your office.”

I’m expecting Marly,
either still fixing my drink or working on one of her own, but it’s not her.

Ellie’s sitting in my
office chair, holding an overfilled tumbler of scotch, sipping just enough off
the top that it doesn’t spill.

“Ellie,” I say, “What are
you doing here?”

“Naomi told me,” she
answers, smiling. “She told me about the ring.”

Chapter
Twenty-One

Reality’s for Suckers

Ellie

My throat’s still burning
a little from skimming off the top of Nick’s scotch, but it’s hardly taking my
mind off of the gallon of adrenaline running through me.

 
“How does she know about the ring?” he asks.

“It’s Naomi,” I answer.
“She doesn’t do well with personal boundaries. I don’t know when you bought it,
or even if you were still planning on giving it to me someday, but it made me
realize something.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“First off, I’m nowhere
near ready to marry you,” I say. “I mean, we’re talking not even a little bit.”

He forces a smile.
“Thanks for coming all the way here to let me know that,” he says. “My day’s
just getting better.”

“Calm down, testy,” I
respond. “It also made me realize that this whole time I’ve been looking at you
as the billionaire businessman. At first, I didn’t want to get involved with
you because of it, and then I tried to bury myself in that world, but I never
thought of you as just a guy.”

I hold out the scotch and
he takes it from my hand.

“You may already know
this, but I wasn’t asleep that night,” I tell him. “I didn’t remember you at
first. You’ve changed so much.”

He takes a sip of his
scotch and sets it on the desk. His voice is raspy as he says, “I didn’t know
you were awake.”

“Here’s what I’d like to
do,” I tell him. “I’d like to stop with all the back and forth. If we’re going
to do this thing, we’re going to need to be in the same place. I know you’re
still a little wary I’m going to go all socialite moron on you again. Maybe I
will, who knows? Being with you is going to take some getting used to, there’s
no doubt about that. When I realized I’m nowhere near ready to marry you,
though, I also realized something else.”

“That is?” he asks.

“I’m ready to start down
that path and see where it leads,” I tell him. “No more nonsense. No more
thinking of you as the billionaire guy, but actually getting to know
all
of you, not just what I can read in
the papers.”

“I’d like that,” he says.

“Can I see it, though?” I
ask. “Not now, but whenever you’re done here for the day, can I take a look at
it?” I know it’s silly and maybe a bit misleading, but I’m curious.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “You
can see it. You know,” he says, walking around the desk to me, “I bought that
when I made my first million. No, I didn’t expect you’d be ready for something
like that yet. The reality is, I’m not ready for it, either. We still have a
lot to learn about each other,” he says and holds his hand out to me.

I take his hand and rise
to my feet. “Yeah, like what happened with the glasses?” I ask. “Did you do the
laser surgery thing or is there some kind of medication that’s only made
available to the ridiculously wealthy?”

“You have a way of making
me forget what I’m talking about, Ellie Michaels,” he says, kissing me on the
cheek, then on the lips. He smiles. “It’s a problem.”

I snort with laughter.

“You know,” he says,
looking back toward the office door, “my assistant’s already holding my calls.”

“Yeah?” I ask, kissing
him.

“Appointments, too,” he says
as I loosen his tie. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already set up the
machine gun nest around the office. We have one of those, you know.”

“Yeah,” I tell him, “I’m
back to where your rich guy stuff doesn’t impress me so much, Mr. Scipio.” I
slide the tie the rest of the way off his neck.

“I like it when you call
me that,” he says.

“Really?” I ask as I
unbutton his shirt. “I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve said it since
we met.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t
like it when you call me that,” he says. “What was it again?”

Slipping his suit jacket
and shirt off of him together, I whisper in his ear, “Mr. Scipio.”

“Yeah,” he says, giving
me a pat on the butt, “that was better the first time.”

I draw back and give him
a playful slap to the chest, saying, “Well look who found their confidence
after junior high.”

He smirks and says, “I
didn’t say we couldn’t work on it.”

Nick reaches his arms
around me and pulls me close, kissing me hard. I’m climbing onto the desk so I
don’t lose my balance from the intensity of those full lips on mine.

He slips my blouse over
my head and drops it off to the side as he kisses my neck. A moment later, I’m
letting my bra fall from my shoulders.

My blood on fire, I reach
between us and unfasten Nick’s belt. Unbuttoning his pants, I savor the feel of
him through the fabric and I want him inside me now.

He steps back a little
and I lift my skirt, showing him I’m ready when he is.

Those dark eyes brighten
a little and he steps between my legs. I stroke him as he whispers in my ear, “Do
you know how long I waited for you?”

“Then don’t,” I tell him
and guiding him to my slippery core.

“Not yet,” he says. He
kisses his way down my body, and I’m leaning back on this desk that’s at least
as big as my queen-sized mattress.

He’s sucking the skin of
my inner thighs, each in their turn, and I’m already starting to sweat. Looking
down at that gorgeous head of black hair, I’m not looking at him as the CEO,
though I’m on his desk in his office. I’m not looking at him as the billionaire
slumming it.

I just see a gorgeous man
who wants me in his life.

His mouth moves over me
and when his tongue glides over my clit, it’s all I can do to keep my arms from
shaking out from under me. Nick puts his arms around my legs, bracing me as his
deft mouth attends to every part of my core before returning to my swollen bud.

“Any chance these walls
are soundproof?” I ask.

Nick turns his head and
sputters laughter. He says, “I do yell at a lot of people in here.” His
expression softening, he says, “Nobody’s going to hear you.”

He kisses the top of one
thigh all the way up to the knee, and I reach over, grabbing his necktie from
the side of his desk where I dropped it. Putting the tie around me, I cinch it
up a little, letting it dangle between my breasts.

He looks up to see what
I’m doing and kissing his way back up my body, he says, “That’s not your tie,
you know.”

“Oh, you don’t like it?”
I ask, pushing out my bottom lip.

He kisses my neck and
sucks my earlobe before answering, “I didn’t say that.”

Nick presses himself into
me, one arm around my back, supporting me. Even though Nick says the office is
soundproof, I still put the tie between my teeth to muffle the sounds of my
pleasure.

There’s something so
different in knowing who he is, who he was. That barrier, the one I felt so
long between his world and mine, it’s finally gone.

After he told me, I
didn’t know whether to tell him I was awake because I didn’t know how to handle
what was happening. All my life, I’ve just been the girl with the silly job in
the silly town. Come to find out, the man who has everything only wanted me.

That’s a lot of pressure,
but as I caress Nick’s cheek as he’s so deep inside me, I’m starting to think I
can handle it. No more drunken parties. No more running away.

No more excuses.

My lips vibrate around
the tie and I spit it out, letting Nick hear me. With one hand behind my head
now, he kisses my cheek and then my lips.

I look away from Nick for
a moment to gaze out the corner of one of his office windows. One thing about
Nick is that sex with him typically comes with a hell of a view.

Nick kisses my neck, my
shoulder, and every motion is building that tension and building that tension
until I’m clutching the edge of the desk as hard as I can as he moves with such
power I can’t describe it.

Pulling against the desk
drives me harder and harder over him, but my arms still shake as all that built
up tension releases in an explosion of sweat and shivers and molten lust
permeating everything.

I’m not quiet.

Nick pulls himself out of
me and I’m expecting him to come, but he pulls me off the desk and turns me
around in front of him so I’m laying front down on his desk. He runs a hand
down my back as he pushes inside of me again before my climax has even had a
chance to pass.

He’s so powerful in so
many ways, but with me, even now, it’s not command. It’s not force. It’s a
passion, a fervor that has me wondering if I’m still feeling the first orgasm
or if I’ve moved on to a whole new one.

Nick’s strong quads smack
against my thighs, and I’m reaching for something, anything to hold onto.
Papers are falling off the desk, but I don’t care.

I’m groaning, overwhelmed
with delight and Nick is so thick and full inside me. My eyes are almost closed
when I notice a light on Nick’s phone over where it says intercom.

“Psst,” I whisper and
point to the phone, saying, “is that thing on?”

Nick lunges forward, his
hand slamming on the intercom button. It’s a strange feeling with him still
inside me, but the light’s gone.

He falls back into his
chair, laughing.

“Was that really on?” I
ask. “Did you know it was?”

“No,” he says, trying to
catch his breath. “I swear. I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out.”
He falls into laughter again, and it’s so contagious, I can’t help but join
him.

“I don’t know how long it
was on, do you?” I ask. “That could have been on the whole time.”

“Well,” Nick says, wiping
his brow with the back of his forearm, “I guess that’s one way to announce I’m
stepping down.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” I
say. Then it clicks. “Wait, what did you say?”

*
                   
*
                   
*

If anyone heard us
through the intercom, they were decent enough not to be outside the office when
Nick and I finally came out. Headquarters sex sounded like such a great idea at
the time.

It’s funny, back in that
hotel room we didn’t leave for a week, the sex was great, but forgettable. I
didn’t attach too much significance to it, other than it was something we both
wanted.

Things are different now.

Nick’s been home the last
few days, though, and it seems like he’s waiting to tell me something, only he
hasn’t found the right time. I don’t want to go down that road again.

He’s sitting next to me
on the couch, reading a book when I ask, “It’s not that I’m complaining, but
aren’t you supposed to be at work trying to save your company?”

“I thought you knew,” he
says.

“Knew what?” I ask.

“When I went to my office
and found you in there, I thought—Nolan didn’t say anything?” he asks.

“After our last phone
conversation, Nolan and I don’t talk all that much,” I answer. “What happened?”

“I had to give up the
company,” he says. “There was no way around it.”

“That’s it?” she asks.
“No last-minute strategy session with the lawyers or anything?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Someone
from the board will step in as acting CEO—probably Mason Handler, but if they
are going to install someone from the board, they’d do better with Geraldine
Peña. She’s the CFO now, but she’s got the instincts. I thought you just didn’t
bring it up because I haven’t said anything about it. The truth is, I’m still
trying to wrap my head around it. I didn’t know you didn’t know. I’m sorry for
that.”

“So what happened,
though?” I ask. “Did you quit, did they fire you?”

“It was more of a legal
agreement between consenting parties,” he says. “I had to transfer my stock,
too, and it’s depreciated quite a bit. Are you going to be all right if I’m
just really rich instead of ultra-rich?”

I rub my chin. “Yeah,” I
answer. “I think I’ll stick around. You’re kind of a handful, but I’ll keep you
for now.”

“Fair enough,” he says.

“You need to do
something, though,” I tell him. “Even if it’s not your company anymore, you
need to do something so you can live with what’s happening to the company.”

“I’m open to
suggestions,” he says.

I have a few thoughts,
but none of them are workable. We talk about it until we’re both spouting
nonsense ideas just so we can say we’ve thought of everything. It only takes an
hour to get there.

The rest of the day, we
just sit and enjoy what life is like when there’s nothing to worry about except
the dog, the cat, the kleptomaniac-compulsive-liar sister, basically all forms
of media, and the general public.

“So,” I say, “when you
told me you were going to come join me in Mulholland, were you planning to make
it more than temporary?”