Chapter 13
“I left the island, but I can’t leave her behind.” ~ Jeremy
Jeremy
I settle into my seat on my private jet and an attendant immediately bustles to me.
“Good morning. My name is Cora and I’ll be your attendant for this flight. What can I get you to drink, Mr. Holland?”
I hate being referred to as Mr. Holland.
Mr. Holland is my dad and I don’t want to be associated with him.
But I’ve learned not to allow familiarity – such as letting people refer to me with my first name – as it signals to them that we’re somehow friends.
I don’t lend my ‘friends’ money. And I’m tired of being asked.
“Whiskey. Neat.”
“Right away. And for you, Mr. Raider?”
“Coffee. Strong as you can make it.”
She hurries away and I scoff at Eli. “Coffee? I stock my jet with Buccaneer’s Whiskey and you choose coffee?”
He grunts. “First of all, you stock your jet with my whiskey because Buccaneer’s is the best damn whiskey money can buy.”
He’s not wrong. His brother, Jaxon, is the master distiller and he’s a genius.
“And…” He breaks off to yawn. “Having a baby is exhausting.”
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He grins. “Stephanie’s worth the loss of sleep.”
My stomach burns. Why is my stomach burning? I can’t possibly be jealous. I don’t want children. I’d have to find a woman first, and I know from experience women can’t see past the money to the real me.
What about Parker?
Our kiss was the hottest thing I’ve experienced in years. Maybe ever. Her soft lips and taste of coffee and sugar with a hint of sea mesmerized me.
I was ready to strip her bare and taste and touch every single inch of her. Considering her reaction to the kiss, I bet she goes wild in the bedroom. Or on the floor of her kitchen.
But then she ran away. The second I turned my back, she was gone. She didn’t say goodbye. She disappeared.
And I couldn’t chase her since I have no idea where she lives. I could probably ask Eli but considering Paisley has been trying not-so-subtly to matchmake me with Parker since I arrived on the island, I didn’t want to chance it.
“Why are you scowling?” Eli asks.
Cora arrives with our drinks before I can answer. I swirl the whiskey in the glass. This glass is crystal. It’s beautiful and elegant. And yet I find I prefer the plastic cups with mermaids on them in Parker’s apartment.
Damn it. I can’t spend two minutes out of her company without thinking of her. Maybe she’s one of those sea creatures she loves so much. Is there a sea creature that can bewitch men? Perhaps a mermaid.
“Jeremy,” Eli grumbles. “Answer my question. Are you worried about the Synq app? How is the development going? You said you’d be finished by the end of Thanksgiving weekend, but Thanksgiving has come and gone and you’re still on Smuggler’s Hideaway working on it.”
I jump at the chance to change the subject away from all my failures concerning the app. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Hell, no. I love having you nearby. I’ve missed you this past year.”
“You’re the one who moved away.”
“Worth it.” He has the soft, infatuated look of a man in love on his face again.
My chest burns. I am not jealous. I don’t want to live on Smuggler’s Hideaway. I don’t want a woman who loves me or a child.
I cut all of those ideas out of my dreams after my parents did what they did. Being biologically related to a person doesn’t necessarily equal unconditional love. My parents’ ‘love’ for me wasn’t selfless in the least once I made my first million.
But Parker isn’t the same. She isn’t after my money.
And there I go fantasizing about the curvy baker again. This needs to stop. Maybe once we’ve spent a night exploring each other’s bodies, I’ll be cured of this obsession. Good plan. I smile.
“What are you smiling about?”
I wipe my smile from my face.
Eli wags a finger at me. “You can’t hide from me. I’ve known you since our first day of college. I was there when you were curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, naked and convinced you were dying.”
“We agreed that incident never happened.”
He barks out a laugh. “I will never agree to forget you bet the RA you could eat six packages of ramen noodles in less than five minutes.”
“The resident assistant was an asshole.”
“He wasn’t an asshole for catching you sneaking back into the dorms at two a.m.”
“It wasn’t as if I was out partying. I was in the computer lab working.”
“Geek.”
“Geek who developed an app that made you a fortune.”
“Speaking of which, you never answered my question about how the development of Synq is going.”
Damn. Eli could always talk circles around me. There’s a reason I hid out in the computer lab for most of college after all.
Cora clears her throat. “Gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into LaGuardia.”
Saved by the bell. I busy myself finishing my drink, putting away the papers I got out but never touched, and righting my chair.
“It’s cute you think this conversation is over,” Eli says as the wheels hit the tarmac.
I pretend not to hear him. What else am I going to do? Admit I’m staring down burnout? Tell him I haven’t been able to code more than a couple of lines since I arrived on Smuggler’s Hideaway?
Eli is my best friend, and I trust him with my life, but some things are too private to share.
Cora opens the door to the jet and lowers the stairs. “The helicopter is waiting as requested.”
I nod my thanks as I pass her. A car is waiting at the bottom of the stairs to drive us to the helicopter. Another reprieve. Eli and I have learned you don’t discuss business with anyone else around. Not even a driver who’s pretending to listen to a baseball game.
Five minutes later, we’re in our seats in the helicopter and making our way to Manhattan.
“Are you ready for this meeting?” I ask Eli when we land, less than ten minutes later.
As the CFO, Eli is the board member who usually handles investor meetings. Unfortunately, investors inevitably request I’m in attendance as well since I’m the CEO and the person who dreams up and develops the apps that have made Apparoo into a multi-billion dollar enterprise.
“When am I not ready?” Eli answers as we settle into the limo waiting to drive us from the Downtown Manhattan Heliport to the Four Seasons Hotel in Tribeca.
“When you have baby spit-up on your suit jacket.”
“Shit.” He whips off his jacket. “Where is it? Grab me some club soda from the bar.”
I burst into laughter. “Got you.”
“Asshole,” he mutters as he puts his jacket back on but he’s smiling and not asking me how development on the app is going. Win.
We arrive at the Four Seasons in less than ten minutes.
I glance up at the building. It’s a slender limestone-and-concrete tower that screams 1920s elegance. The entrance with its arched, wrought-iron accents and subtle Art Deco vine-like scones used to awe me.
Would it awe Parker? She doesn’t seem impressed by my money. But is it a lie? Is her hatred of my billionaire status a trick to gain my attention? I refuse to believe it.
We enter the double-height lobby with its patterned marble floor and walnut wood panels. The real grandeur of the space is created by the rotunda ceiling, finished in silver leaf.
Would Parker find the space grand or pretentious? Probably pretentious. She has no time for decorations that don’t involve Christmas or baking.
Eli elbows me. “Investors ahead.”
I button my jacket as they approach. I want to fiddle with my tie but the move would signal nervousness. I’m not nervous. I’m annoyed at having to be here.
I’d rather be back in Smuggler’s Hideaway working in the corner of Pirate’s Pastries surrounded by the scent of coffee and chocolate and cinnamon with a chance Parker would show her face. Probably with flour smudges on it.
And there I go fantasizing about the baker again. I need to get the woman out of my mind. What if the only way to stop obsessing about Parker is by sleeping with her? Then, I volunteer as tribute.
My cock twitches in my pants. I clear my throat and force thoughts of sexy, shapely bakers out of my mind. Soon. I promise my cock. Soon, we’ll have her beneath us, screaming our name.