It’s Just Business

So while your idea has merit, I’m going to need a little time to evaluate all sides of the situation, I type, pausing before deleting half the sentence and sitting back in my chair as I pinch the bridge of my nose. Turning down an offer is often hard, especially one of this magnitude and potential. Turning down an offer from a friend is even harder.

When Austin approached me about a potential deal he’s trying to line up, I was intrigued. The car and truck market is at a point now where outside forces, both cultural and economic, are dictating changes. The traditional automotive manufacturers are going to have to adapt or they’ll find themselves on the scrap heap of history. But Austin has an angle on another plan, merging the cutting-edge flexibility of a startup with the major automakers’ distribution network.

If it works, he’s poised to be the driving force of the biggest change to the American car scene in decades. And while he’s got the money to push this through on his own, he’s trying to diversify his investors to maximize his profits and his potential.

So he reached out to me, because he knows that I’ve got my fingers on the pulse of more cash flow than he does and that I’ve got other investments that could be beneficial to the project.

But what he’s asking…

I’m excited to see your project come to fruition, I rewrite in the bland, clipped tones of business speak, and I wish you the best. The possibilities on what can happen in this project are more than needed for the market. But right now, I’m going to have to pass on getting involved personally. Please keep me apprised, and if the opportunity presents itself in the future, we can talk.

-Dylan

I hit Send, firing off the email to Austin. I know it’s passing up on an opportunity, and some people would say I’m losing out. But one of the things I’ve learned in my time in business is that while the old adage of ‘you win some, you lose some’ might be true, a lot of losses can be chalked up to spreading yourself too thinly. So if I’m not able to stay on top and see where and when to make adjustments to the projects under the firm’s umbrella, then a small issue can become a full-blown problem before I can react.

And I’ve already got expansion plans in place for the firm, loading up my plate as it is. The Dexstrom deal was signed, sealed, and legally delivered today to the appropriate government authorities. The Miller mining deal is waiting for a final vote at the university board level to rename their mineralogy department in his honor in order to give me two major footholds in the technology world.

All in all, I’m pleased with our current situation. Let Austin become the innovator of transportation. And when he needs more cash flow, I’ll be here and hopefully in a position to push him further.

My computer chimes, and I see that it’s five minutes to six. Raven is going to walk through that door any moment now. A hum of satisfaction runs through me. Each day has been better than the last, easier and more manageable to balance work with play as well. I fucking love what we have.

She’s been nothing short of amazing, logging significant profits each day with her investments. In just this week, she’s already made her entire base salary in profit for the firm.

She hasn’t been perfect, of course. Nobody, not even me, is. Three of her trades lost money, but in those losses, she learned, and more importantly, she showed good instincts. She didn’t hang onto her pride. She dumped the investment before a small dip turned into a nosedive, and in doing so, she kept her portfolio in the green for the day. I don’t often feel pride in a new hire, but she feels like more than that.

I knew I was right about her. All those fuckers missed out.

Five days in the office, five days of profits. More importantly, five days of learning, of showing me that she knows exactly what she’s talking about while still being hungry to understand more.

And so far, four days of coming to my office at six o’clock, with one to go, sitting under my learning tree while being unafraid to share her own thoughts and opinions. She challenges me, but respectfully. The pluckiness that she showed me before our date at the Faulkner event is still there. She stands up for herself while still acknowledging my superiority in matters of business.

And of course, each of these sessions has led to sex. Intense, fantastic, body wracking sex. She’s fucking addicting.

The moment she’s gone, I feel the loss of not having her in my bed.

She wants to keep it business and leave separately. As much as I respect the terms of the verbal contract, I’m certain there will be flexibility.

At least I’m hopeful there will be, given what this weekend is.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my heart being turned to dust and my world being poisoned forever. The day I learned what betrayal truly meant, and that I was never going to marry.

As my thumb taps on the table, I remember that day like it was just yesterday. Not years ago. The anger brewing inside is at odds with the hope I felt.

I fucking loved Olivia. I know I did. And it was a mistake… every fucking second, every thought, every moment I spent with her.

Running up the stairs, I’m almost giddy because I’ve done it. Finally, I found the perfect wedding ring. Well, perhaps ‘found’ isn’t accurate because I’ve devoted dozens of hours and hundreds of thousands of dollars to develop them, to create the works of art that I’ve got in my pocket. They’re custom made, gorgeous, and one of a kind, like she is.

I reach Olivia’s door, and my thumb’s poised to hit her doorbell buzzer when I hear a thump against her door. Quickly, there’s another, larger thump, and thinking something’s wrong, I’m about to lower my shoulder and go barging through when I hear… a giggle? Carefully, I press my ear against the wood, the thick material making an excellent sound transmitter.

“You’re so naughty,” she says, clearly in pleasure. She’s close, obviously just on the other side of the door, so her voice is easy to understand. “I never thought a boy from a good family like yours could be so bad.”

My heart clenches in my chest, and I’m about to punch the door and scare the shit out of her and whoever it is in there with her when I hear, “You know you like it.”

The voice freezes me. Evan? But…

“We shouldn’t keep doing this,” Olivia says before moaning. I know that sound. She always makes that sound when her nipples are being played with. My heart sinks and my body freezes. Evan and Olivia…

“You know it makes you wet just thinking about it, us sneaking around, him not having a clue,” Evan says. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes. But⁠—”

“But it would hurt our little Pip’s feelings?” Evan says teasingly. My teeth set on edge at the mocking, dismissive nickname he knows I hate. He’s often joked that I resemble the famous Dickens character, including the fact that I gave my heart away to a ‘cold but beautiful bitch who’ll never, ever be able to be trusted.’

Apparently, he was right, as their sounds quickly become the sound of one thing, and as she moans his name, I turn and walk away… leaving the rings in their bag on her apartment doorknob.

It wasn’t anger. The betrayal did something much worse to me. My friend, one of my best friends and the woman I loved. Fucking hell.

The memory sears through me, making my teeth clench. He was my friend, but he betrayed me. It wasn’t until later that I found out just how much he was stabbing me in the back in the business world as well. Deals that could have lifted me out of the grind even faster, that could have made me his equal, were silently sabotaged.

We had it out on that.

“You betrayed me,” I hiss as Evan and I sit in the lounge, the curving booth and the round table between us preventing me from reaching out and choking the life out of him. That was my idea, not his. I’m not going to go to jail for murder because of this asshole. I just need some questions answered. “Why?”

He scoffs, ignoring my question. “You should be thanking me,” he says, looking out over the bar and virtually dismissing me.

I lean forward and hiss, “For fucking my fiancée?”

He cuts cold eyes my way. “You should be thanking me for showing you exactly who and what she is before you wasted any more of your time on a meaningless fuck.”

I change my mind. A life sentence would worth it to feel his heart stop in my bare hand. As though he can sense that I’m on the edge, considering jumping off, his eyes flare with excitement. He wants me to attack him and is virtually salivating for it to happen.

That alone is enough to give me pause. If he wants me to act on my rage, it’s definitely not the right play. I’ll never give him anything he wants again.

Seeing me tamp my emotions down, getting them under control, he smirks. “If you must know, she was all too keen to suck my dick. Bit of a family perk, you know.”

He wears his last name like a protective cape. One day, I’ll catch him without it and destroy him. Unfortunately, that day is not today.

I throw my vodka back in one swallow, needing the numbness. It’s the last time I’ll ever touch this particular drink, since he was the one who suggested that ‘real players’ drink vodka. From today onward, I’m going to be a whiskey man, or maybe rum.

Evan chuckles and sips his vodka soda before slamming his glass to the table. “Fine, you want the whole thing? First off, I don’t owe a street hustler like you a fucking thing. And that’s what you are, Sharpe. Sure, you’re making some money. Enough to lift you up a few tax brackets above the poverty line. And someday, you’ll find some bovine-faced bitch who’ll marry you. She’ll pop out a few kids, grow a fat ass, and you’ll get to play with her flabby tits once a week if you’re lucky. Or hell, maybe you’ll be the even stupider type and keep chasing the dragon until you find yourself a plastic surgery-loving gold digger who’ll drain your dick and your bank account dry. But in the meantime, you’ll make money. Maybe even a decent amount. You might even be able to retire someday to some little retirement community in some dusty ass state, where you’ll be able to eat your chocolate pudding and slowly piss yourself while watching The Price Is Right. But the truth is, Sharpe, you could make a billion dollars… and you’ll still be chasing me, and people like me. So whatever I do, I don’t owe you an explanation. I owe you nothing because you are nothing in this world.”

“I’m going to ruin you,” I vow. “Not today, but one day.”

Evan chuckles, not considering me a threat for even a moment. “Face it, you’re trash, man. Get out of my game.”

The words haunted me, but in some ways, I have to thank Evan Faulkner. I thought I was driven before his betrayal. But he pushed me further. He ‘Sharpe’ned me, if I’m allowed to have a few bad puns about the most searing trauma of my life. Trauma, but from that trauma came growth.

Without his stabbing me in the back, I would not be in the position I am today. Without the cold-hearted lessons he taught me, I never would have been able to become the powerful man I am today. Even if I haven’t adopted his methods, he opened my eyes to what the rest of the Financial District was like.

Not that I could ever forgive the bastard. The one thing I truly, truly regret in my life is not wrapping my fingers around that son of a bitch’s neck when I had the opportunity.

But perhaps I’ve gotten my revenge even more sublimely. He stole my fiancée from me, leaving her just a few weeks after I called off the wedding. Now, I have the woman he was too stupid to hang on to, and I’m not just richer than him, but I’m also on the trembling cusp of dethroning his entire family from their perch. The best part? Raven’s going to help me.

He tried to destroy me. It’s taken some time, but soon, I’ll be the one pissing on the ashes of the Faulkner empire.

There’s a knock on my door, and I glance up to see Raven enter my office.

She’s wearing the same green blouse and black skirt combination that she wore to our interview, and I’m struck by how much has changed since then. Though some things haven’t changed a bit, like the fact that I’m stiffening in my slacks from the mere sight of her.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Mr. Sharpe.”

“Miss Hill,” I reply, and she smiles, that beautiful smile that frames her sensuous mouth and teases me by its very presence. I go to sleep at night remembering the sensation of those velvety lips pressed against me, or wrapped around my cock like she was yesterday. “Tonight, I wanted⁠—”

“Wait, Dylan,” she says, and I pause, lifting an eyebrow. She steps closer, and I can see in her eyes what she wants to say even before she says it. But I hold back, maintaining control. “I can’t.”

“You can,” I reply with a frown, not quite adding, ‘You will. Now get on your knees.’

I’m still giving her the choice, after all. It was one of the lessons that Evan taught me. I can’t force loyalty. I can’t force desire. That’s not the sort of man I am. So I won’t order her, even if the sentiment has merit in the right circumstances.

Raven shakes her head, almost as if she’s reading my mind, and her lips twitch. “Not that, Dylan. I’m not saying no to you. You’re… never mind.”

“No, what is it?” I ask, and she blushes. I get up, going around my desk to lift her chin and look into her eyes. “Tell me, darling. What were you going to say?”

“I was going to tell you,” she says as her blush deepens and her breath quickens, “I was going to say that you’re cute when you’re disappointed, but then I didn’t want you to think I was being stupid or trying to demean you.”

I sit back on the edge of my desk, stunned into silence by her gushing admission. “I’m cute?” An eyebrow cocks at her statement.

Raven nods, biting her lip. She looks unsure whether she should open up to me like this. It’s touching that she’s so courageous as to do so, and a reminder that while I’m letting her see parts of me the rest of the world doesn’t, it’s clear I’m still walled off and intimidating in a lot of ways. But she’s going to keep trying. “Very. But as much as I would love to show you, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I have to leave tonight. My mother texted earlier, and she’s on the train down right now. Surprise!” she says brightly, but then her face falls. “I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

Relief strikes through me, making me sigh softly. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but at the same time, welcome. Reaching up, I stroke her cheek. “I understand. So, what are the two Hill women planning?”

Selfishly, I’d hoped to see Raven tomorrow night as well. She would be a much-welcomed distraction from the ghosts of my past that will come haunting in the late-night hours of the ugly anniversary. But I’m not entirely without a heart. Raven speaks fondly of her family, so of course, I’d want her to spend time with her mother.

She laughs. “I have no idea since I didn’t know she was coming. I just hope Maggie doesn’t mind another person in our tiny apartment.”

She’s joking, but I’ve been to her and Maggie’s apartment, and from the doorway, I think I saw more than eighty percent of the space. Raven has teasingly said her bedroom is the width of her spread arms, and I’m not entirely sure she’s exaggerating.

I reach across my desk, picking up my phone. “I’m booking your mother a room. I’d go with five-star, but I suspect she’d have too many questions if I did.”

Raven looks shocked and reaches for my wrist. “Dylan, you shouldn’t⁠—”

“I should, and I am,” I reply simply, pulling my phone out of her reach and holding it over my head like we’re playing keep away. She wants to call me cute? She should see how she looks right now, reaching for my phone, her breasts thrust outward against my chest, her eyes huge and gorgeous. She’s more than cute. She’s hot as hell. “Seriously, Raven. I’ve seen enough of your apartment to know that there’s no way that anyone’s mother should be staying there for a visit to the city. Now, as for your explaining that to your mother, just tell her that you got a signing bonus with the firm and decided to treat her to a nice weekend. Or tell her the truth. She won’t be coming around the office, I assume?”

She huffs a half laugh softly and pauses, meeting my eyes. “No, she won’t. I promise. Are you sure about this?”

“Staying until Monday?” I question, and she smiles while nodding. “Yes.”

I nod, quickly booking a place and slipping my phone into my pocket.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” she says before getting on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. It’s unexpected, and so is the feeling in my chest.

I pull Raven close, not wanting distance between us. “If you haven’t figured it out after this week, Raven, you’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.”

For me, it’s as big a declaration as I’ll ever make and a leap into dangerous waters. As though she can sense the magnitude of my words, she looks up at me, her green eyes filled with tenderness.

I kiss her, not needing her to say anything. Not yet, not if she’s not there. I am, and that’s enough. She leans into me, and I pull her even closer, still wishing we had time for more but making do with imprinting myself along her body as I memorize the feel of her to get me through the lonely weekend.

Finally, when we both need to breathe, I pull back, brushing her lip with my thumb to get a smidge of lipstick that’s worn off. She smiles. “Thank you.”

I nod, studying her face and seeing something there that I never thought I’d see in a woman’s face again. I see someone I can believe in, someone I can trust. “I’ll forward you the reservation. It’ll be in your name.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, her brow arching teasingly, and in my pants, my cock twitches.

“Be very careful, Raven,” I whisper in her ear. “Words have meanings, and words have consequences.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m looking forward to Monday. See you then… sir.”

She leaves, and I go back to my desk, slumping into my chair. Maybe it’s only been four days, but I’ve come to look forward to Raven’s daily visits to my office and I’m struck with a profound sense of disappointment at the quickness of our time today.

I want more of her. Although I’m very aware that I need to be careful of my next steps with my little darling.

Not having her tonight leaves me feeling almost empty, and making the reservation for Raven’s mother is a hollow victory at best. I do make one adjustment, though, upgrading the room to a full suite, hoping they’ll both enjoy it for a bit of mother-daughter bonding.

Still, after texting the hotel and reservation code to Raven, I’m left with little to do. The work week is done, and I have no big urge to spend the weekend researching. And the concept of relieving the churning pressure in my balls with simple masturbation feels like a cheap substitute for having Raven pinned beneath me.

But there’s one activity I haven’t done in a couple of months that could kill two birds with one stone. I quickly dial again, and the voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised when it picks up. “Dylan? What’s up, man? Emergency?”

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. “Why would I need an emergency in order to give you a call, Austin?”

“Considering you just sent me an email turning down my offer, and you almost never call me when you just want to hang out,” he reminds me, “I figured you had an emergency. No?”

“No, no emergency,” I reply, drumming my fingers on the desk. “I just wanted to get in touch with you before you made any concrete weekend plans. Wanted to see if you’d like to get a game together tomorrow night?”

At one point or another, we always get together for a casual night of cards. We might go weeks or sometimes months, but men with money will always find a stupid way to lose it, especially if it involves a bit of alcohol, shit-talking, and fun. Sometimes, I even come out a winner, either in funds or information. This weekend, I’ll take distraction as the biggest win.

Austin hums thoughtfully, and I can almost hear his mind working as he puts the date together with what he knows of my past. “Yeah, man. I can do that. How many do you want involved?” Austin asks. “Are you inviting others?”

“I was thinking Ollie. I owe him one,” I admit. “Although he’s not exactly a short-term notice type of guy. Do you have any ideas?”

“What about Noah?” Austin asks, referring to a newer friend of his that I’ve only met once before in passing. “I think you two would get along well.”

“Sure, why not?” I reply. “I’ll poke around a bit more if Ollie says he’s busy, but I’ll get a fourth. Maybe a fifth if I can.”

“Oh, I’ll bring the fifth,” Austin jokes. “I’ve got a fifth of whiskey I’ve wanted you to try for a couple of months, anyway.”

“Deal. Say, six o’clock at my place, then?”

“I’ll be there, buddy. And if you’re not going to invest in my project, I’ll just have to take you to the cleaners and get the money that way.”

“Talking shit already, are we?” I taunt, grinning a little. “If I remember right, last time we played, I walked out ten thousand dollars richer.”

“Ten thousand? Big deal. Pocket change.”

“Pocket change now,” I remind him, and on the other end of the line, he hums. Deep inside, Austin’s still the hustler he was years ago. In all the best ways. “I know you don’t forget.”

“And I know you won’t,” Austin replies. “See you Saturday.”

As I hang up, I’m all too aware that even with plans made, I feel a loss at not having Raven to myself.