Chapter 68
T wo days passed. Layla had come home that night I had met Mr. Burnson and asked for the date to happen a couple of days later, saying something about how she needed some time to plan a date worth planning for.
I was happy to agree, and not because I was trying to push her away, but because it gave me an opportunity to work on that which I most valued right then.
The list.
I went through Mr. Burnson’s list one by one and started with looking up every person on LinkedIn.
Of the twenty-six names that he had provided, about eighteen were still active in the business world, while three had died.
That meant eighteen names who would have value as active business men and five who could at least corroborate everything that was said by the active members.
Of course, not all of them would have the willingness to speak so freely.
Many of them would fear retribution, and I knew that if I played this poorly and didn’t knock Edwin off of his perch, not only was I basically a dead man, a whole lot of people were going to face some massive consequences for what they did.
I had to make my case bulletproof and foolproof.
I had to make sure that when I went to the Wall Street Journal, not only would there be no doubt that my words were true, but that the words of everyone else were true.
It was kind of funny and sad how Edwin had screwed over so many people that it was going to be hard to distinguish fact from fiction—the man who said that he got fired for simply voicing his opinion might not be as true as the person who lost his entire business because Edwin bribed someone else or created a de facto monopoly.
After two days and having placed a phone call and sent an email to everyone, of the twenty-three people who could have responded, a mere ten had.
I had a less than fifty percent batting average.
And yet, if I was looking at it in absolute terms, most news stories barely had three sources, let alone ten—not including me or Mr. Burnson.
Any story that ran with a dozen sources was not going to be a story to be taken lightly.
But for at least one evening, starting around six when Layla returned home and she said “get dressed and let me get dressed, but do it somewhere else so I can surprise you,” I decided to put all of that to the side.
For one night, I could pretend that the rest of my world was not a turbulent hot mess, that chaos was about to get even worse, and that I was striking at the Hunt patriarch.
No, instead, when Layla finally emerged from her bedroom wearing a sleek, tight black dress that conformed to her curves perfectly, had a bit of a sequin look to boot, and came up just short on her thighs, I could instead focus on the beautiful woman in front of me.
Let’s just say that if I was still going to stick to my rule about not sleeping with Layla until I got everything resolved with Edwin Hunt, it was going to take an enormous amount of self-control that I don’t think I had ever demonstrated in my life.
“Goddamn,” I said, not even bothering to hide my lust for her. “If I may, you are so fucking hot.”
“Is that so?” she said, putting her hands on her hips and cocking an eyebrow at me. “If I may, we are welcome to just take one word in that sentence as our marching orders for what happens next.”
“Tempting as that is…”
I didn’t finish the thought at first, instead admiring as Layla ran her fingers over herself, not quite revealing what lay beneath but giving more than enough hints that if I wanted it, I could have it at any moment.
No, goddamnit Chance, you made a promise to yourself.
“For all the time you spent getting ready, we should at least show you off to the world.”
“You expect me to believe that’s the real reason?” she said with a smirk.
“Nope,” I said, biting my lip, shrugging, and laughing. “The real reason is if this is going to work out, it’s going to need a new beginning. And dear, I don’t want our new beginning to be starting out in much the same way that the old one did.”
“Huh,” she said, sounding almost impressed. “Good thing you don’t have an office anymore then, huh?”
I just chuckled at that, remembering all of the lengths I had gone to in order to sleep with Layla at Burnson’s office.
I always wondered if anyone had ever figured it out or, even better, caught us in the act but just not said anything.
If Mr. Burnson did know, he had let it go the way of his anger and stress—out the door.
Some questions were just better left unanswered anyways.
I led Layla to the elevator, letting her wrap her arm around mine.
I had to admit, even though I had gone through so much and I was relying on her just for a place to stay, I felt like something of a king escorting his beauty queen all around for all to see.
I knew that with how she looked, we would draw many eyes, many leers, and more than a few comments.
But none would dare touch her or say more than a single line before running off, knowing full well how much I protected her and cared for her even if they had never met either of us in our life before.
All they had to do was look at my body language or look at my reactions to them for them to know how I felt about their behavior.
When we got down, even the front desk concierge couldn’t help himself. He made some comment about how I was a lucky man, and I just replied with a smile, knowing that that was about the nicest thing a jealous guy would say to me through the course of the evening.
But then it turned out that I wouldn’t have to walk us down the street, because Layla led us to a limo.
“You broke the bank on this one, huh?”
“I’m not that poor,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I figured if we’re going to go where I’m taking you, we ought to do it in style.”
“And where’s that?”
She just shrugged in good nature, knowing that since it was with her, I’d like it no matter where we went, whether that was to a nice dinner, for some cocktails, or even just a good show. OK, maybe if she took me to a surprise dinner with Edwin Hunt, that would not be fun; that would suck, in fact.
Something—OK, a lot of things—told me I didn’t have to worry about that, though.
Along the way, we traded some innocuous flirting, me touching her thigh a few times, her returning the favor.
I couldn’t quite say that this was one hundred percent going to lead to intimacy, but if it did not, then that was going to be a miracle of self-control.
I just accepted at this point the night would end with both of us naked, and I’d deal with the fallout later.
And if you don’t want her later, how will that reflect on you?
Keep it in your pants until you’re sure.
The limo stopped after about twenty minutes of driving, and I stared with my jaw slack and my eyes wide at where Layla had taken me.
It was the theatre where Edwin had humiliated me in front of Burnson Investments and Layla had originally seemed like a massive fraud.
“Before you say anything, Chance,” she said, as if reading the fear and concern in my mind.
“Let me explain why I picked this place. I know what it means to you and how much this place is full of bad memories. Even before your comment earlier, I wanted tonight to be about making new memories. To layer over the bad memories with good ones. There’s a show going on here, some musical, that I thought would be fun.
We can have a couple of champagne glasses, see the show, and then go out after.
If you don’t want to, I totally understand, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to see if you’d be interested in that.
I don’t want this building to be something you see with rage every moment. ”
Put in that light…
“Alright,” I said with a smile. “Just make sure the musical doesn’t involve betrayal.”
Layla gave a laugh that seemed cut off too early, so I gave her a smile and a hand to take her out of the limo, as if extending my own trust to her. She took it, I kissed her, and I pulled her in close.
“Relax,” I said. “It was just a joke. Let’s have some fun, OK?”
She nodded, kissed me again, and walked hand in hand into the theatre.
Layla was more than accomplishing her mission by the time intermission rolled around—we were about three glasses of champagne in, certainly not enough to get drunk off of but enough that surface-level inhibitions were removed, resulting in me realizing even more that I just wasn’t bothered by being back in this place.
Yes, I could look at individual spots in the adjoining banquet hall or in the lobby and see where individual events had happened.
But those just didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Edwin Hunt was going to pop up, haunted house style, and ruin me again.
The only surprise of the night was going to be where we went next, not who I was with or what their intentions were.
I could just let new memories form, as Layla had said, and let the rest fall into place.
And it helped that when the musical ended, there were no great betrayals, just an overcoming of tough situations.
Layla led me out, her hand still in mine, to the same limo.
“So where to now, my wonderful planner?”
“Planner, huh? Is that what I’ve moved to?”
“Hey, you’re the boss tonight.”
They were words that I “regretted” immediately. I felt such “shame” that I had given so much power to Layla. This was going to end so “badly” for me.
Oh, the “horror!”
“Is that so?” she said, a seductive smile coming over her face. “Better be careful. You never know what a boss is going to tell you to do. That’s why you formed your own company, right?”
“Uhh… yeah…” I said as she strummed her fingers on the inside of my thigh, coming mighty close to my stiffening member.
But before she got too close, she pulled back and leaned against me.
“Can’t do anything like that too early,” she said. “Not where we’re going next.”