Chapter 4
Daniel
T here was a knock at my office door and I prayed it wasn’t a meeting I overlooked or Margaret with another question.
She was new, so it was to be expected. While she was mostly smart, I didn’t really hire her for her professional skills.
I glanced at my watch and let out a frustrated sigh before acknowledging whoever was at my door.
“Yes, come in,” I said, leaning back in my chair and preparing to give another mini tutorial of my digital calendar.
The door swung open and my brother strolled inside like he owned the place, which he did. Well, half, anyway.
“Hey, bro,” he greeted with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes and watched as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, looking at me like he had something up his sleeve. It was never good.
“What is it, Brody?” I asked.
“Hey, can’t I just come and see my big bro?” he asked, putting his hands up innocently.
Doubtful, I thought to myself.
“I’m just about to head out.”
“Gotta rush home and get ready for tonight, right?”
I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. I loved my brother, but he was the definition of the annoying younger sibling, and it had only gotten worse with age.
“Yes, Brody. I know the auction is tonight.”
“And?”
“And what?” I snapped, standing up from my chair and grabbing my jacket.
I slid it on and grabbed my briefcase, avoiding my brother’s amused expression.
“Don’t tell me you forgot about the bet. You lost, Daniel.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Okay, good. Because I invited my friends and we are looking for some entertainment tonight.”
“It’s a charity event, Brody. Not a frat party.”
“I know that. It’s just a few buddies from college.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to be patient.
My brother was my COO, and while I would think he would be able to differentiate work from his social life, it wasn’t always the case.
It was probably because he didn’t always have to be on his best behavior, like I did.
Even though that was seldom the case. I was just better at being private about it, except for those damn paparazzi. All eyes were on me all the time.
“Fine,” I said, walking toward the door.
“Don’t be such a sore loser, bro.” Brody patted me on the back as he followed me out into the hallway.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I said, shrugging him off and walking toward the elevator.
I was in no mood to pay my dues tonight, but he was right. I had lost the bet we made a few weeks ago. It was stupid really, but that was what happened when you’d had a few double whiskeys on the rocks.
I couldn’t remember whose idea it was, but the bet was to see who could get this particular girl in bed first. She was a smoking-hot redhead who was doing bottle service at a club in New York.
We were there on business. Pleasure, too.
Brody took her back to his hotel room, but I called bullshit because I was pretty sure he paid her to leave her post early.
It must have been a generous sum of money because she most likely lost her job.
We should have come up with better terms, but I didn’t think prostitution was on the table.
Either way, I lost. And now I was to be auctioned off at tonight’s charity function.
It was one of our biggest fundraisers of the year.
Turned out the rich, older women of New York threw down lots of money to have a day or night with eligible CEOs.
While I wasn’t really in the mood to stand up on stage in a penguin suit waiting to see what unfortunate fate I ended up with, I knew it would look good in the press.
I needed that right now. Again, those damn paparazzi.
My latest scandal was splashed all over the papers and gossip pages on Instagram.
I shouldn’t be that surprised. I had been caught leaving the club with three busty blondes, and they were photographed leaving my hotel the next morning.
All their eyes rimmed with mascara, like little platinum blonde raccoons squinting their eyes in the harsh reality of the morning.
As I rode the elevator down to the lobby, I smiled to myself thinking about that night.
I’d been with several women before, but three at the same time was a first. I couldn’t keep their names straight, but there wasn’t much talking, anyway.
I was just happy that the hotel room had a California King bed.
Despite the backlash in the press, I still thought it was worth it. But now there was damage control to do. The money we raised tonight would be a perfect Band-Aid, until some other scandal arose. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be mine.
The elevator doors opened to the lobby cast in an orange glow, as the sun was setting.
I nodded to the front desk as I passed. The security guard opened the door and I stepped out onto the sidewalk where my driver waited.
He opened the car door and I slid into the backseat.
A glass of whiskey with a large steel ice cube sat in the cupholder. He knew me so well.
“Thank you, Armand,” I said, taking a sip as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“Of course, Mr. Daniels. Home?”
“Yes, please.”
The car slowly pulled away from the curb and began the five-minute drive to my condo, which sat high above the city. My phone pinged in my jacket pocket. I slid it out and saw it was a calendar notification Margaret forwarded me. I was surprised she even knew how to do that.
Tomorrow. 10 AM meeting at the Leading to Learn offices.
That was fast. I wasn’t expecting to see Addison so soon, but I wasn’t complaining.
I wanted to know more about her. The ins and outs.
I was excited just thinking about it. The effect she had on me was new.
It was intoxicating. I took a sip of whiskey and leaned my head back, closing my eyes and trying to remember the lines of her, curving in all the right places.
Soon, the car pulled into the parking garage, the carriage overcome with darkness as we descended to my private level. Armand parked by the elevators and came around to open the door for me.
“Thank you, Armand. Be back here at seven. In the meantime, go grab some dinner.”
I handed him a one-hundred-dollar bill. He nodded gratefully as I strode past him. I rode up to the top floor, the elevator doors sliding open to reveal my condo. The city lights fought to compete with the sunset that was now turning to a purply dusk.
I had an hour before I had to head to the auction. It was being held at the Met. Traffic would be a bitch, and I didn’t want to be late. I walked down the dim hallway to my master bedroom and found my tux lying on the bed, freshly pressed. My housekeeper must have dropped it off earlier.
I’d rather put on a pair of sweats than this thing, but duty called. I quickly took a shower and dressed. After I made sure my bowtie was straight, I ran some gel through my damp hair, and sprayed a generous amount of cologne.
I decided to make myself another drink to calm my nerves.
Whiskey neat. The usual. Before I knew it, it was time to leave.
I rode the elevator down, and as the doors opened, I caught Armand tossing a bag of McDonald’s in the trash.
It wouldn’t have been my first choice if I had a hundred to spend, but I knew he had mouths to feed at home.
I pretended like I didn’t see and waited for him to open the car door.
Like I expected, traffic was awful, but we still managed to get to the Met in time.
The red carpet was already alive with some of New York’s wealthiest businessmen and women.
I never wanted to be the first one on that thing, so I was glad we were arriving when we did.
As the car pulled up and Armand rounded the back to open the door, I saw the paparazzi whip their heads around.
I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face as the car door opened. I gave a wave and made my way up the steps toward the red carpet. The camera flashes were blinding, but I was used to it. Almost.
I posed for a few photos on the red carpet before excusing myself and making my way inside.
Cocktail tables with crisp white linen were sprinkled around the vast room.
Chilled champagne was being passed around on silver strays.
A jazz band played upbeat music on the stage I’d be standing on in a short while.
I made small talk with a few guests before heading to the banquet table to load a plate with hors d’oeuvres.
My stomach felt unsettled. Maybe it was the whiskey on an empty stomach.
I was starting to think Armand had the right idea with a Big Mac.
As I made a meal out of the caviar and bruschetta, I spotted my ex-girlfriend. Kiera.
Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight updo that sat atop her head, revealing the smooth skin of her back that was exposed in a plunging, backless, emerald-green dress. She looked good. Part of me wanted to go to her. We always had fun, but I knew better.
I turned my head to avoid her searching gaze as she looked in my direction.
I should have known she’d be here. She was usually at these events, especially if I was hosting.
Hell, I probably invited her. I couldn’t remember the guest list. It wasn’t like we ended on bad terms or anything.
We’re friendly. I knew she wanted more, but I wasn’t looking to get married any more than she was looking for anything other than my money.
Kiera had already been married and divorced.
Twice. To two successful businessmen on the East Coast. Not as successful of me, of course, but successful enough to earn her a decent sum of money.
One that most people wouldn’t see in a lifetime.
Still, it didn’t seem to be enough for her.
She wanted the next big fish, and that would be me.
I heard the auctioneer come on the microphone, announcing the auction was about to begin. I saw my brother and his friends snickering in the corner as they waited for me to take the stage. I was sure I’d be saved for last. Enough time to have more caviar, and another drink.
At the bar, I heard eligible bachelors going for thousands of dollars.
Even tens of thousands of dollars. It was ridiculous, but at least we were raising money.
The inner city youth clubs would be happy, even if the money was earned in this humiliating way.
This wasn’t exactly a kid-friendly type of fundraiser. It was practically escorting.
I heard the auctioneer over the speakers.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, but mostly you ladies. We have our final bachelor of the night. I’ve saved the best for last. Daniel Jacobs, make your way to the stage.”
I put on a grin that I hoped was convincing and walked up the steps.
I saw hands flying up in the air and obscene amounts of money being shouted out quickly.
I could hardly keep up with what was going on.
After a few minutes, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down and shouted, “Sold!” I squinted out at the crowd to see who my buyer was, and that was when I saw Kiera making her way to the stage to claim her prize.