7. Michaela
Michaela
I ’m sitting at the kitchen table in Rhys’s guesthouse, folded over my laptop, my nose practically touching the screen, drooling all over the keyboard.
“Holy Mother of Hotness have mercy on my heart and my lady parts,” I say, as I scroll down another page filled with photos of the gorgeous man I despise.
My God, he wears a suit like it’s nobody’s business.
I’m unwilling to admit how many times I’ve fanned my face––and between my legs––since starting my detective work.
I didn’t have enough time this morning to do proper research on King Konig because I got sidetracked by the patriarch’s heart attack.
No way am I walking into a second meeting with Phoenix without knowing what I’m up against. I’m not na?ve.
I’m fully aware I’m no match for a mogul tycoon, and given everything my father revealed, my hands are tied. Still, a background check makes sense.
I click on the back button to return to the page of results.
As I scroll down, a headline catches my eyes.
‘PHOENIX K?NIG. BEST SHIRTLESS MOMENTS’
Interesting.
I double-click.
My head jerks back at the magnificence before me.
The man commands respect and oozes undeniable masculinity and scorching hot sexuality in a white shirt and tailored black pants––no doubt bespoke––but shirtless… there are no words.
How can you bestow such good looks to one man, God? What about the rest of the male gender?
Geez.
No wonder I wanted the man I hate to manhandle me two minutes after meeting him.
It’s so unlike me.
The number of gorgeous men who wear perfectly fitted suits is as common as potholes in New York City.
Not to mention, a parade of wealthy men stays at our hotel on any given day.
And let’s not forget about my circle of friends and acquaintances.
I’m no stranger to good-looking men. Which is why I struggle to explain this strong attraction for a man I should loathe.
No, a man I do loathe.
It’s like this weird kinky love-hate pull I can’t wrap my head around.
Must be the California sun.
The heat is frying my brain.
My phone vibrates on the table next to me, forcing my eyes away from my laptop and the Adonis god.
Speaking of the beautiful bastard…
King Kong Tycoon.
I couldn’t resist. I saved his name as his cheeky moniker.
What can I say? The devil made me do it.
My eyes grow to the size of saucers when I read his text.
King Kong Tycoon
The car should be at your place in twenty minutes.
I lost track of time.
Michaela
I’ll be ready.
King Kong Tycoon
Looking forward to getting to know you better.
I swallow.
Michaela
See you soon, Phoenix.
King Kong Tycoon
See you soon, my little feline.
I roll my eyes.
I clench my phone against my heart and lift my eyes to the ceiling to where I’m sure my mother is enjoying a martini while chatting up God’s ear.
I’m doing this for you, Mom.
Conscious I have little time to waste, I jump to my feet and rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then, I run to the bedroom to change.
We were supposed to meet for dinner, but Phoenix is eager to get some answers, so he suggested a late lunch instead. I was tempted to be spiteful and tell him my afternoon was booked solid, but I decided against it. Putting this meeting off is only delaying the inevitable.
My life as I know it is a thing of the past.
Done with.
Bye, bye, bye.
Finito.
No más.
Sayonara.
Au revoir.
Hasta la vista, baby.
I heard everything my father had to say, although it’s not computing fully yet, I accept my new reality—I’m his only lifeline.
Sigh.
Deciding on something to wear when time is ticking would’ve taken me far longer back home given the size of my wardrobe, but here, I only have a few items of clothing to choose from.
In no time, I’m dressed and move my attention to my makeup and hair.
I have a love-hate relationship with my short pixie cut.
It’s in the growing stages. Most times I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror because my hair was literally a curtain.
Given I’m pressed for time, I’m glad I don’t have to fight with a mane that always seemed to have a mind of its own.
I touch up my makeup, applying a more in-your-face lipstick color and slide into my high heels.
I give myself one last inspection and nod, satisfied with the end result.
Not bad.
Feminine, but screams of ‘I mean business.’
I run back to the living room and snatch my phone from the kitchen table.
Three minutes to spare.
My fingers fly on the screen as I shoot Keira a quick text.
Michaela
I have to run out. I’ll be back early evening.
Keira
What’s with you today? It’s like in those old-time cartoons when the Tasmanian devil enters the scene in a tornado swirl. You’re like a whirlwind––In. Out. In. Out.
Michaela
Phoenix and I have to put our heads together to figure out how to manage the media. It’s far more civilized to do this over lunch.
There’s more to it, but Keira doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.
Keira
You two hit it off?
Yeah, like a meteor hits earth at lightning speed before crashing in an explosion of fragments, causing devastation in its wake.
Michaela
You’re reading into things. There’s a lot to talk about. A face-to-face is easier.
Keira
How was the conversation with your dad? Is your stepmom behind this fiasco?
Michaela
I have to go.
Keira
When do I get the full story?
Michaela
Later. I promise.
Keira
You better.
Michaela
You have my word.
Keira
So you’ll spill your guts to pay for your dinner?
Michaela
Deal.
Keira
Okay, I can wait a few hours.
I can imagine the grin on her face.
Michaela
I’ll text when I’m about to come back.
Keira
Sounds good. Have fun.
I doubt it.
I’m sure Keira thinks I’m crazy, but I can’t talk to her until I talk to Phoenix.
I used the excuse of a heat-induced headache as a copout to stay locked up in the guesthouse.
In reality, I wanted to research the hell out of Phoenix Konig.
Not that I had to since Daddy sent me a dossier compiled by the same private investigators who found dirt on my soon-to-be-ex-stepmother.
Pretty CIA.
When Daddy is facing a financial conundrum, he takes a page right out of a thriller novel. I’m impressed. There’s so much more than meets the eye about King Konig. I store my laptop and run out the door. The last thing I want is for the chauffeur to honk. Keira is suspicious as it is.
As I sit in the back of the chauffeured dark-blue Bentley, my mind wanders.
This morning, I woke up with the intention of enjoying Rhys’s spectacular pool and spending the day hanging out with my friend while working on my tan.
Several hours later, my world is turned upside down.
I’m on my way to meet a man I swore to never see again––a man who holds my fate in the palm of his hands.
The joke is on me.
If being in Phoenix Konig’s presence for a mere twenty minutes sent my system into overdrive, I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like spending a few hours with him.
There’s no turning back.
He holds the bargaining chips, and he has the power to play me like a puppet. I want to understand what my future will look like.
After talking to my father, I oscillated between anger at Thana, bafflement at how Daddy shut me out of something pretty freaking important, and fear at how I unknowingly became the last pawn my father had to play.
But, like Daddy, I made a promise to my mother on her death bed. I will honor it even if it kills me.
I brush my hand over my dress, smoothing the fabric.
I shouldn’t care this much about how I look, but that doesn’t stop me from pulling out my compact to check my makeup. Again.
What am I doing?
I don’t give a flying flip about King Kong Tycoon’s opinion of my wardrobe.
I’m about to slide my compact back into my handbag, when a sign catches my eye.
Marina del Rey Harbor?
I stick my nose to the window and gawk at the incredible view.
We’re meeting at a seaside restaurant?
Phoenix said he wanted us to meet in a private setting, this isn’t what I had pictured in my mind.
As the car crawls to a stop, the door flies open.
I inhale through the nose and exhale.
This is it, Mikki.
I look up, expecting to meet the eager gaze of a courteous valet, but I’m dead wrong.
“You made it.” Phoenix flashes me a warm smile.
For a few beats, I stare at him, my mouth gaping.
His earlier business attire was flawless and screamed power.
This more casual, but equally impeccable, head-to-toe black look is badassness personified.
His shirt frames his broad-shoulders, making him appear imposing.
His tailored pants accentuate thick thighs.
And those shoes… I’m guessing also bespoke.
I’m willing to bet money I don’t have, the man has a spectacular ass.
My eyes roam back to his gorgeous face and I thank God his shades hide his mesmerizing eyes.
“Cat got your tongue, kitty cat?”
I snap out of my trance. “As if your chauffeur was going to drive me anywhere else than our meeting destination?” There’s an involuntary edge to my voice.
“You’re in fine fighting mood, as usual,” he says.
“What can I say? I’m always ready to rumble.”
“That could be misconstrued as a double entendre,” he says.
I clear my throat. “Don’t get any ideas. This is strictly business.”
“For once we agree.” He extends his hand. “Shall we?”
I’m perfectly capable of getting out of the car by myself, but I’m not immune to his gallantry. I slide my hand into his.
Bad move.
I could’ve ignored the electric current rushing through my veins when he held my wrist captive against his muscular chest earlier, but now that his hand encircles mine, there’s no denying the pulse of desire coursing through me.
What is going on with me?
He pulls me out of the vehicle and we stand toe to toe.
He shifts his attention to the vehicle and taps three times on the hood.