The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1 (5 page)

BOOK: The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1
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              “You were the President of Product Development when you were only eighteen?”

              “Seventeen, yes.”

              “Did you want to be?” I asked. It was a lot of responsibility for someone almost still a child, and he didn’t seem particularly proud or happy speaking about his past.

              My question took him aback. “No,” he said truthfully, “but I’ve never admitted that to anyone before. Not even myself.”

              “Why now?”

              “Because I want to earn your trust. And because you’re simply too mesmerizing to deceive.”

              I was touched, but I wouldn’t tell him so. I still wasn’t sure what his intentions were—if I was merely a moment of insanity to him, one where he wanted to speak the truth, or if he was using honesty layered with poetry to get me back in bed…a conquest. Something to take away the dissatisfaction of his job.

              “Does your father still work at the company?”

              He suddenly looked tired. “No. He retired a few years ago. It’s only me.”

              “You miss him.” It wasn’t a question.

              Mr. Jackman…Rawn yawned. “I do. He made work survivable, less tedious and more colorful. I don’t think there was a day he didn’t have a story for me. He never made it out of the lab, but that’s where he was happiest. And so was I. So it suited.”

              This was a side to my midnight lover that I was enjoying. I kept the conversation going. “Where is he now?”

              “California with my mother. They say the weather is better for their arthritis. I don’t think either of them actually have arthritis. I think they just wanted an excuse to leave.”

              “But at least you have a private jet to visit them,” I supposed.

              He looked down. “Not enough as I’d like. This job is time-consuming. It eats away at your life.”

              “Then quit.”

              Did I really just say that? Talk about lack of team spirit. I was suggesting one of Cepheus Scientific’s biggest assets walk out the door. Surely he wouldn’t let me get away with such a bold comment…

              He did. “This is all I know. Since I was recruited right out of high school, I never went to college. And I’m restricted by a non-compete clause in my contract. I’d have to wait five years before I could work for a company even semi-similar to what Cepheus Scientific does.”

              “Is that why you like to dominate?” I asked, surprising myself. “Because you can’t control your situation with the company?”

              He smirked, his mood lightening. “I thought you wanted to keep things professional.”

              “And I thought you were a self-indulged playboy, but we all get it wrong at times.”

              “You didn’t,” he said, stoic. “That’s exactly what I am.”

              I had jumped in the river. I might as well keep swimming. “How so?”

              “I can show you if you like.” The hunger in his eyes was back, but this time I couldn’t fault him for it.

              “No,” I said quickly. “My career is too important to me.”

              He went rigid, overfilled, his posture matching his expression. “Then, I suggest we move on to something less sinful, because I don’t think I can resist you any longer.”

              I spoke quickly, afraid I’d lose my ability to refuse him. “You said you were a Leo. All the constellations have their story, but those stories aren’t the same worldwide. For instance, in the West, there’s a faint constellation known as the Sculptor, but in China and other parts of the East, it’s called the Firebird, which I’ve always found fascinating given how indistinct it is. Leo, your sign, is no different. Its Chinese equivalent is the Vermillion Bird. However, China is the only place that comes to mind that does not recognize your particular cluster of stars as a lion. Everywhere else has, ancient and modern. From the Mesopotamians to the Indians to the Turks. Leo has always been full of strength and courage. It has always been the lion.”

              He stared at me in wonder. “How can you possibly believe such notions will make me covet you any less? That didn’t help.”

              “I know,” I said, feeling my own emotions rising. I wanted Rawn. I wanted him bad. But I couldn’t. Never again. So I turned my head.

              Understanding, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stood, unable to hide the bulge protruding from his pants. “I think I need to rest. There are a few bedrooms. Feel free to take whatever one you want. Even the one I’m in—if you change your mind.”

              “I won’t,” I said softly. “But thanks.”

              He walked away, but stopped before reaching a door that led who knew where. Probably to some gilded dreamland. “In Italy, there’s something I’d really like to show you, if you’ll allow me to. You don’t have to decide now. But soon.”

              “What is it?” I asked.

              “A secret.”

 

Chapter Five

 

              Wow. Like Channing Tatum wow.

From what I had seen of it so far, Naples was stunning. We’d landed in the early hours of the morning, when the seaside city was still cast in a soft blue hue, the sun struggling to rise. I knew when it did, it’d be glorious. A Ferrari had been waiting for us when we’d existed the jet. A convertible, it was sleek and black, almost invisible in the blue dawn.

“I’ve never ridden in a Ferrari before,” I said, taking a seat in the passenger’s side as Rawn held the door open for me.

“I plan to show you many firsts,” he claimed, shutting the door.

The drive to the hotel was short but worthwhile. Naples towered at an incline against the Tyrrhenian Sea, part of the Mediterranean. The sandstone buildings managed to look both ancient and modern, and mystical, as if one of Homer’s sirens could walk out of one of the houses at any moment, a phone to her ear. Watching over the city with its intimidating fortitude was Vesuvius, more god than mountain. Winding around a steeper hillside towards the outskirts of the city, we parked in front of a red sandy structure—our palatial hotel.

Now, standing on the balcony of our hotel suite that overlooked the blue city, I realized just how glorious the world could be. Portland was quite pretty with its forests and waterways, but it was nothing compared to the natural charm of the Naples shoreline and the exquisite architecture of the hotel suite I still could not believe was mine.

Well, ours
, I thought, looking at Rawn, who sat on the plush couch in the common area, reading through his notes, unfazed by the champagne-colored wallpaper or the beige furnishings that allowed the renderings of some of Italy’s most famous paintings to steal the attention of the room. Each were cast in a gilded frame as bright as the gold drapes that cascaded down from the high windows. I did not feel that we stood in a hotel suite, more like I was waiting for an audience with the Queen of England.

The suite had several bedrooms, none of which Rawn seemed interested in. While he prepared for our meeting with Dr. Giordano, I left the balcony and explored the rooms, finally settling on one not too dissimilar from the décor of the common area, except for the traces of purple in the satin quilt and furnishings. Leaving my luggage near the bed, I undressed and went into the bathroom, which was bigger than my room in Portland. A marble tub waited for me, and even though I knew we would soon leave for our meeting with Dr. Francesco Giordano, I soaked my troubles away, inhaling the luxurious scents of the bath creams the hotel supplied.

I’m in Italy!

Squealing, I sank farther into my bubbles, forgetting about the work involved, or that Rawn was outside, fully suited, and I was in here—naked, hot, and wet. This was how empresses bathed. I made a vow that this would not be the last time I bathed within marble. One day, I would own a place just as refined.

One day… One days could be problematic. Sometimes, there wasn’t one day. There was only now. And then no more.

“Dr. Giordano isn’t answering his phone,” Rawn said, coming into the bathroom. “Technically, he doesn’t know we’re here yet, but I see no harm driving up to his farm and calling in early.”

Frantically covering myself with bubbles, I yelled, “Rawn! I’m in the bath!”

“I know,” he said simply. “You’ve been in here for an hour. On my time.”

“Get out!” I screamed.

“What’s the big deal? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. And if you ask me, I find this view better than the one from the balcony.”

Growing red, I threw a bottle of bath cream at him. It was the only thing within my reach. “Dr. Giordano is probably still sleeping, just like the rest of Naples. We cannot expect to win him over if we’re invading his rest. People are happiest when the sun is out and after they’ve eaten. We should wait until after lunch before we drive up to his farm. Now. Get. Out.”

Rawn considered what I said. “Where did you learn all that?”

“Business Psychology 101. Rawn! Leave!”

Chuckling, he said no more and did as I asked, shutting the bathroom door behind him. It made me suspect he never had any intention of leaving this early. He only wanted an excuse to walk in on me.

“I bet if I check his phone no actual calls were made,” I grumbled, falling back into the bubbles, allowing them to rock me into a much more pleasant calm.

Unable to push the man I shared a hotel suite with from my mind completely, I thought back to what he had said to me on the jet. There was a secret he wanted to show me here in Naples, but he hadn’t given any indication of what it was. I did not suspect he had any personal history in Italy, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe there was more than one reason for him to fly all the way out here, something other than speaking with a scientific inventor.

I would find out soon enough. I’d agreed to let him show me, whatever it was. There was very little from Rawn Jackman that I could refuse.

 

***

 

              Compared to the farmhouse of Dr. Francesco Giordano, the black Ferrari was a glare, a thing of opulence that outshone the rusted bolts and chipped paint of the small cottage, which sat amongst a pasture of old appliances, broken swings, and other junk. Though it was a farm, there were no animals about, except for a sad-looking donkey eating the tall grass that sprang between the debris.

              “He lives here?” I asked as I stepped around something corroded, already feeling sorry for the man. “I thought he was once a university professor.”

              “I’m sure it was quite an enchanting acre of land when his wife was alive. Some men…they don’t know how to take care of themselves without a woman around.”

              “That’s a poor excuse. Not all women are domesticated creatures.”

              He picked up a flat piece of metal with a caterpillar crawling across the edge. “That’s not what I meant. I mean they don’t know how to exist without their companion—their best friend.”

              “Oh. Yeah, I can see that. Where is he, anyway?”

              “My guess—” Rawn pointed at the barn, which was just as rundown as the cottage.

              I nodded. “The consequence of genius.” Remembering our conversation from the night before, of Rawn’s confession regarding how he became President of Product Development, I quickly added, “No offense.”

              “None taken. I wasn’t actually a boy genius. I was just smart. Smarter than those already at the company. Dr. Giordano—he is an honest to goodness genius. A
Beautiful Mind
type. If the rumor is true that he has already decided to go with the Germans, convincing him otherwise won’t be easy, but I think we can do it. You can do it. I wouldn’t have brought you all the way out here if not.”

              “I think you overestimate my power of persuasion, but I’ll do my best.”

              Rawn set his hand against my back and gently guided me towards the barn. “If you can convince a stranger to follow you into the woods, you can convince a scientist to license his product to us.”

              “You said you couldn’t resist,” I reminded him. “You didn’t need much convincing.”

              “And neither will Dr. Giordano.”

              In the barn, a man with fuzzy gray hair, glasses, and skin that looked like it had never left the sun was at a wooden table. He was bent over a long, cylindrical object—the telescope—fidgeting with a small box near the lens. Hundreds of gadgets surrounded him, but I did not know if it was junk like that out in the yard or if these were pieces of his inventions. Artifacts of an invaluable knowledge.

              “Hello,” I said, knocking on the giant door of the barn that loomed far above me. “
Ciao
.” It was the only Italian I knew.

              When the scientist didn’t budge, Rawn bellowed, “Dr. Francesco Giordano?”

              The man looked up. He wasn’t startled, but he was suspicious. “You here about the telescope?” he asked, his English heavily accented.

              Sharp indeed.

              “For your benefit,” I said, taking the lead. “And ours. I’m Madison Miller, a recent graduate from Portland State University from the Physics Department. I studied astronomy.”

              “Finally, someone who knows the stars better than they do their bank account,” he mumbled, returning to his work. “The dress you wear is nice, but the material isn’t of the same expense as the man who stands next to you.”

              I glanced down at my button-up navy dress with its loose skirt and short sleeves. Dr. Giordano was right. Even the silver jeweled belt I wore around the dress was made of plastic and rhinestones, not even diamante. It was a synthetic of a synthetic. I’d bought it from an online store that shipped from China, the type where it was necessary to order two sizes larger than you actually were because the clothes were measured for far more petit Asian models.

              “I assume you’re Signor Jackman?” Dr. Giordano continued, his focus on his telescope. “I got your messages. There was a reason I didn’t call back.”

              “May I ask what that reason was?” Rawn asked, stepping closer to the table.

              “Your company primarily manufactures for other companies. I didn’t spend all my time perfecting the 3D telescope so that it could remain a prized jewel amongst the more privileged. Knowledge should be free. If I could give my telescope away, I would. I want it to be accessible to everyone. If it can’t be free, I at least want it to be affordable.” The more he spoke, the more frustrated he became, evident by the way he screwed a piece onto the telescope with much more vigor than was probably necessary.

              “But the Germans won’t be releasing it to the mass market,” Rawn disputed. “So why are you inclined to license the telescope to them?”

              “The company you speak of has agreed to market it to universities and other learning establishments at a discounted rate. They’re the only ones to do so. Therefore, they win.”

              Rawn leaned against a large beam of wood. Decayed, it was impossible to tell if it had fallen down from the rafters or if it supported the structure of the barn. “What would I have to offer to get you to sign with Cepheus Scientific instead?”

              “It doesn’t take a mastermind to figure it out, Signor Jackman. Give me what I ask. Manufacture it for the mass market at an affordable price.”

              Rawn sighed. “You know that’s impossible.”

              “I know it’s not. That’s the point. A British university just built a printed 3D telescope for around one hundred pounds. And that was without the discounts that come with manufacturing. You can build it for a lot cheaper. You can make it affordable. You just don’t want to. New technology like this isn’t meant to reach the public first. It’s meant to be elite. I don’t want my telescope to be elite. I want it to be the norm. Go to the wall with the bridles. Look at the printouts I’ve done so far. Tell me you don’t believe every child around the world should be able to see that.”

              Doing as he asked, I moved to the wall, surprised when Rawn didn’t follow. The printouts were pretty outstanding. Most were of the moon, but instead of looking flat and one dimensional, it popped from the page, as if it were only inches from me. It kind of made me feel like a space giant.

              “I don’t need glasses to see this?” I asked, surprised.

              “Not from the printout. You will need glasses when looking through the lens of the telescope.”

              “How is it even possible?”

              “Mirrors and lasers. And parts that are patented.”

              I traced the circumference of the moon with my finger. “I’d love to see it.”

              “You’re more than welcome to. Come back to me when the sun sets. I’ll have the telescope out for you to experience. Then, perhaps you will understand why it’s meant to be sold to all.”

              I thought I was already beginning to, but knowing Rawn didn’t share my opinion, I kept quiet on the issue. “We’d love to. Thanks.”

              “If the matter is settled, then I would prefer to work without interruption,” Dr. Giordano proclaimed.

              “We understand. You need to work. But if you’ll allow me—” Rawn began, but he went silent when Dr. Giordano threw his screwdriver down.

              “No. I will not allow. I am in the middle of a thought process. My thoughts are my livelihood. So please leave. And be thankful I’m letting you come back.”

              I went to Rawn and took him by the arm. “We’ll let ourselves out. Thank you for your time,” I said, heading towards the barn door. “See you tonight.”

              Outside, Rawn was furious. “You can’t just walk out of a sales pitch like that,” he fumed. “We have to overturn the negatives.”

              “Those weren’t negatives,” I told him. “They were refusals. You said it yourself. Dr. Giordano has quirks. We really should consider ourselves lucky he invited us back here tonight to experience what the telescope has to offer.” I paused, wondering if I should say what I truly felt. With Rawn, I never held back before, so I added, “Dr. Giordano has flipped it back on us. He will not sign with Cepheus Scientific, no matter how much money you promise him. Not with our current propositions. We’re not selling to him. He’s selling to us. The only way we’ll win the license is if the telescope is released to the public. I know a stone wall when I see it, and this is a big one. Release it to the public, or lose the contract. That’s the decision you now have to make.”

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