Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
JAXON/JAX
One & A Half Weeks Before Now
Black Lilies & Gold-Laced Lies
The worst betrayals don’t stab…they kiss you first.
It’s been exactly a week since I left Livianna and I can’t take it anymore. I need to hear her voice before I go insane with devastating thoughts of her with someone else. For a powerful man, I’m being pathetic.
I’m in my suite, getting ready for a day full of grueling, in-depth meetings. It’s 7:00 a.m. on Monday here in Malaysia, which means it’s 4:00 p.m. on Sunday in LA. She usually does Pilates and works half the day, but maybe she’ll be available to take my call.
I go out to the living quarters and bring my cell to my ear. My blood races and my palms sweat. I never used to be pulled into a reaction like this before her.
It’s on the third ring when she answers. “Jax. I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Mon trésor, is it ever nice to hear your voice.” My muscles instantly relax.
Loud people talking and singing fill the line. “Jax, are you there?”
“Yes, Livianna. Do we have a poor connection?”
The noise of the crowd fades.
“No. I can hear you now. Hold on for just a second.” She must cover the speaker because she says something to someone that I can’t make out. “Sorry about that. I’m with Quinn and wanted to have some privacy, so I asked her to go get me a cocktail.”
“You’re drinking on a Sunday?” A little niggle tickles my insides.
She laughs. “Not only that, but we’ve been at it since eight this morning. I’m going to tell you a secret. I’m kinda drunk.”
That is not what I want to hear.
I clench my teeth and furrow my brows. “Why have you been partying all day?”
“We’re at Coachella. My brother’s band is headlining tonight. He sent a van to pick us up at the house. It was stocked with enough alcohol to get his entire crew loaded. Between stops for the bathroom and traffic, it took us five hours to arrive.”
The niggle grows into a ball of lead. “I didn’t realize you had plans to see his show.”
“Yeah, I didn’t expect to come, but he begged. I didn’t ask Quinn until Thursday night, so it happened on a whim.”
I try to shake off my growing concern. “It’s good to hear you’re letting loose. You work hard. You should enjoy your time with your brother.”
Just don’t overdo it like you used to.
God, I sound just like her father. I growl under my breath. I didn’t say it out loud, but anytime I think of her dad, I cringe inside.
EDM music blares through the line. I pull the phone away from my ear, then bring it back, but far enough I won’t lose my hearing.
She yells, “Hold on, Jax. A band just went on stage in the tent where I am. I can’t hear a thing.”
“Look. It’s Livianna Hemings,” a woman says. She sounds young. “I love your brand, Lehlani Rose. It’s so fresh and edgy. Is the outfit you’re wearing part of your collection?”
Livianna’s voice carries. “The belt and bag are mine. I can’t take credit for the half-shirt, cut-offs, and boots.”
The woman giggles. “Yeah, I didn’t think The Rolling Stones shirt was yours.”
An image of Livianna forms in my mind. I’m sure her belt is cinched tight, accentuating her tiny waist and perfectly round ass. Not to mention the half shirt.
Shit, her breasts are probably peeking out at the bottom. Hopefully, she has a bra on. I don’t know why I’m worried about that. She always wears a bra. They’re too big not to.
Livianna says something, but it’s muffled. I wait for her to return to our conversation with my mind taking me on a wild ride.
She’s the sexiest woman alive and thinking about her drunk at a concert where half the audience will recognize her isn’t sitting right. Something could go wrong and I’m in no position to help her.
And the situation she’s put herself in is exactly when she’d have one of her fuck everyone moods kick in. Brendan has triggered her more than once.
Her being at this festival a week after we took a step back from our relationship, when she confided in me she was heartbroken and mixing it with alcohol and whatever else they have on hand, is a recipe for disaster.
There’s no one there who knows how to ground her if she spins out. A little wave of nausea hits. I don’t like this one bit.
And Quinn… Fuck. Quinn’s a talented businesswoman, but won’t be any good to Livianna.
The two of them together at a concert are like The Hurricane drink they serve at Pat O’Brien’s in New Orleans—delicious, strong, and potentially dangerous.
Having one is asking for a tinge of euphoria. Having two is bound to get you nothing but trouble.
My stomach churns. “Livianna, are you still there?”
She doesn’t answer. Loud music pours through and more people talk to her. I stand and pace, rubbing my neck as I do.
Who do I know that could get there and help her?
Okay, that’s enough, Jaxon. She can handle herself. She’s not a child.
While I wait, I try to get out of my head and focus on her having a healthy amount of fun. The music and people start to fade.
Finally, she comes back on the line. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s crazy here.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“It should be better to talk where I am now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m in the VIP area. There’s a lounge area away from the tents and bars I found. I’ll wait for Quinn over here and I'll leave my hat and shades on.”
Perfect. She’s being smart about her surroundings. She must not be as drunk as I thought.
I sigh a breath of relief. “It’s great to hear your voice.”
“You too. I miss you.”
I close my eyes to imagine feeling her in my arms and my chest grows warm. “Livianna, I miss you more than I can express.”
“How’s the business you’re tending to? Are you any closer to coming home?” The yearning in her tone screams.
My insides empty. “It’s worse than I initially thought.”
“Is that your way of saying it’s going to be longer than a month?” Her tone is much sharper than it was mere seconds ago.
“Livianna…”
This fucking sucks. I’ve never hated a situation more than this one. I get ready to apologize, but before I have the chance, something occurs that throws me for a loop.
A man with a deep voice and a slight Irish accent steals my train of thought. “Hey, vixen. It’s been a while. Too long, wouldn’t you say?”
The blood in my body drains. Wait. Why the hell is he calling her vixen?
My jaw tightens and I grip the phone tighter. I want to reach through the line and tell the guy to back the fuck away from the woman I love.
My stomach forms into a rock and I wait for her to take control of the situation. A bunch of people scream.
Some of them yell, “Oh, look, it’s Cash Mayze.”
“Callum… I mean, hi. It’s nice to see you.” Livianna’s voice can barely be heard.
“Lily, why don’t you end your call?” he asks. “Let’s go somewhere we can have some privacy.”
I expect her to tell him to fuck off like I want to personally do, but then it hits me.
Why did he call her Lily?
My intuition kicks me in the gut and I lose my breath. I’m missing something big here.
Livianna cuts in. “Um… Jaxon. I need to let you go.”
“Jaxon? Really?” My lungs collapse as if I just got sucker punched. Which I did. “Livianna—”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll text you later.”
The connection drops, and along with it, so does my heart. I’ve lost control and I’m in a free fall. I need to hold on to the edge of the couch to keep myself stable.
She only calls me Jaxon when she’s covering up our relationship. Whomever this Callum guy is, she doesn’t want him to know we’re involved.
What the fuck was that about? Why did he call her Lily? Who is Callum? And better yet, why did she hang up on me to go somewhere with him so they can have some privacy?
That call couldn’t have gone any worse. I can’t make sense of it, so I stew and fret.
By the time I get to breakfast to meet up with my senior associate and my right-hand man through this debacle of an investment, I’m a sweaty and tense wreck.
Andrew’s sitting at the table when I arrive. The hostess shows me to him. I thank her and she leaves.
“Andrew.” I sit, placing my briefcase on the chair beside me. “What did you figure out for today?”
He studies me. “Back up. I’m not starting with that when you’re in this state. What’s going on?”
I pull on my collar. “I had a difficult conversation with someone back home.”
“Business or personal?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I point to his open computer. “What were you doing before I got here?”
“More due diligence.”
“Nice. I like to hear that.”
“It’s my job, Jaxon. I do it every day.” He brushes his blondish-brown hair off his forehead. “It appears you won’t be any good at our investor meeting today.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“If you go in there like you are, you’ll have every party involved pull out.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You look like you’re ready to murder someone.”
I turn my head and growl. He’s right, but I can’t tell him what’s going on.
“Jaxon, just tell me, and we can figure out how to work around it.”
I fucking need to release something or I’m going to explode, so I inch forward as far as the subject matter goes.
I rest my arms on the table. “You know I mentor Livianna Hemings. Well, she’s about to—”
“Stop the game, Jaxon. This has nothing to do with mentoring her and everything to do with how you feel about her.”
“It has to do with her actions and how she’s screwing up big time on one of her investments.” Namely me.
His unimpressed green-eyed gaze lands on me. “Okay, I guess today’s the day I come clean and tell you I know you two are involved.”
“I’m not denying that. I help her and have come to care about her. She’s like the sister I never had.” I almost throw up defending myself that way.
His face scrunches up, seemingly sickened by my words. “Yeah, if you fuck your sibling.”
I glare. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, but you’re in a sexual relationship with Livianna, so I doubt you see her as your sister.”
I don’t move. I just try to find a way out of this conversation. Nothing can get me out of it.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Explain.”
“You’re not going to like it.”