21. California Dreaming
California Dreaming
Knox
“Oh, my God, Knox. You look….”
Doug Reynolds, my trusted attorney of fifteen years, smoothed his hand down his tie repeatedly as he tried and failed to find the words. Typically, the man was brutal, so it was intriguing to see the harsh man, tongue-tied and ill-prepared.
“Like a cracked leather handbag you found at the church bazaar with a five-dollar price tag; don’t be shy,” Victoria remarked, her weak attempt at trying to turn my trusted lawyer against me.
“I-I wouldn’t say that,” Doug sputtered, unable to meet my gaze. “You look like a survivor.”
“Yikes,” Victoria said, laughing as she entered the SUV that idled on the tarmac. I rolled my eyes and climbed in after her.
After we were rescued, Dr. Hubbard determined I was stable enough for transport after 48 hours.
Victoria and I were transferred to Guam before being flown to Los Angeles via private jet.
The jet had barely landed, and I was already ready to say, “fuck it all” and charter a flight back to the island with my mouthy bride.
Being rescued and returning to civilization should’ve felt like a relief.
Like the end of a nightmare and the beginning of the sweetest dream.
But the truth was that reality wouldn’t wait for us to catch our breath.
I had seen my first glimpse of the headlines of our rescue and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
From Boardroom to Beach: Billionaire’s Survival Raises Questions About Mental Fitness.
FAA Launches Probe into Jet Crash That Left Billionaire Stranded.
Knox Ramsey Undergoing Psychiatric Evaluation—Board Demands Clearance Before Return.
Victoria Caldwell: The Assistant Who Won’t Leave—Is Knox Ramsey Being Silenced?
Is It Love or Leverage? Tabloid Sources Raise Elder Abuse Concerns in Ramsey Case.
That elder abuse claim really chapped my hide. I was 49 years young and could still run circles around Victoria.
I was overwhelmed.
The headlines were relentless with speculation regarding my mental and physical health, and Victoria was getting picked apart by the media. They were determined to unearth anything from her past that would paint her as the villain instead of my savior.
The FAA and police wanted answers I couldn’t give them, and the board was digitally breathing down my neck. Getting bitten by a poisonous snake sounded a hell of a lot better than returning to a corner office that would feel more like a prison of glass and steel with million-dollar views.
Truthfully, I don’t know if I have it in me any longer.
“Who is this?” I asked, motioning towards the bleach blonde in a pink pantsuit that reminded me of Barbie and chewing gum.
“This is Amelia Cranson. She is a publicist from Stratus PR Group,” Doug explained.
I grunted.
“What happened to Blackwell Communications?”
“They couldn’t handle the magnitude of your disappearance,” he answered.
“And you’re telling me this twenty-three-year-old can?”
Amelia smiled broadly, showing off perfect white teeth achieved by the occasional whitening and Invisalign.
“With all due respect, Mr. Ramsey, Ms. Caldwell began her career with you when she was only twenty-three.”
“And did,” Victoria piped up. I glared at her before returning my attention to the young woman.
“Now, look here, Polly Pocket.”
Victoria snorted and tried to cover it with a cough, but it didn’t work. Her shoulders shook with laughter, and I gave up when Amelia joined in. The SUV turned into the giggle factory as the women wiped tears from their eyes.
“P-Polly Pocket… that’s a good one, Knox, but please behave,” Victoria requested as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“I’m just calling it how I see it,” I replied with a shrug.
“Wonderful. Since we’re just ‘calling it how you see it,’ then you don’t mind if I have a turn?”
“I don’t mind at all,” I answered confidently.
“Perfect. Here’s what your return looks like from the outside, Mr. Ramsey.
You’re the CEO of a billion-dollar company who vanished for three months.
You reappeared with your assistant, who is half your age, clinging to your arm, and somehow, it was already leaked that Ms. Caldwell is your “spiritual wife.” You have not released a single public statement, opening up the media to control every aspect of the narrative.
The board is whispering about keeping your VP in place permanently, and investors are questioning your mental fitness, leadership, and most of all, your judgment.
The families of those who died in that crash want answers and are threatening lawsuits, claiming that your last-minute demands put the flight and employees at risk.
The public wants answers, and the speculation grows with every silent second that passes.
They want to know about the crash, Victoria, and whether you’re capable of running Ramsey Acquisitions Group.
I am here to salvage both of your images, and no pun intended, but I can’t hold back the sharks forever.
So… you can make your jokes and call me names, but I’ve heard it all before. ”
“No one has ever called you Polly Pocket before,” Victoria interjected. Amelia smiled softly.
“No, that’s a new one, but this isn’t my first rodeo with dealing with assholes who undermine my intelligence and expertise.” Amelia’s gaze ticked towards me. “Let’s make this very clear, Mr. Ramsey. I have nothing to prove, but you do.”
“Oop,” Victoria whispered, turning her attention to the window and the passing scenery of reporters and cameramen who clamored outside the airport gates, nearly busting their asses to get a picture of us through the tinted windows.
“I will always have a career because wealthy people like you can’t even breathe wrong without the world coming down on your shoulders. My career is guaranteed; yours is not.”
My head snapped towards Victoria, and I asked, “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
“Did she lie?”
“You’re not the ride or die I thought you were,” I responded playfully.
“You’re right. I’m better than you ever imagined. Now, sit there and listen to the woman like you have some sense.”
I sighed and dragged my hand over my face before giving Amelia my undivided attention.
“I apologize for being untoward and undermining you. I think the snake venom has my brain a little scrambled. I appreciate your diligence and look forward to what you have planned to salvage my reputation.”
Amelia beamed.
“Apology accepted. We need to discuss your next steps. We have less than an hour before we reach UCLA Medical Center.”
I held up a hand to pause.
“Wait. Why are we going to UCLA?”
Doug cleared his throat and took over.
“The board wants a full workup before you set foot in the building again.”
“I have been medically cleared,” I protested. I was tired of being poked by needles and evaluated like a lab rat. I wanted to go home. I wanted my bed. I wanted to see Victoria hydrated and moisturized while relaxing on the verandah with a coconut water.
“No offense, but you have not been medically cleared by doctors at one of the top-ranking hospitals in the U.S. The hospital’s reputation would reassure shareholders and the media that your return is being handled with the utmost professionalism.
You’ll be assigned an executive liaison to manage every detail from scheduling to post-evaluation follow-ups.
You’ll undergo comprehensive testing: cardiovascular, neurological, psychological, and trauma-related assessments.
There is no way around this, Knox, so don’t even fight me on this.
The board needs to know you are of sound mind and judgment when you return. ”
“I’ll say what Mr. Reynolds here is too afraid to tell you,” Amelia chimed in as she tapped away at her phone screen. “The board is questioning your judgment because of Ms. Caldwell.”
“I can personally attest that his judgment was skewed way before I entered the picture,” Victoria drawled.
Amelia nodded.
“I believe you, but nothing screams midlife crisis like marrying a woman half your age and leaving her with generational wealth.”
“And nothing screams insane like enticing your executive assistant with $100,000 to go on a vacation with you after calling her airline claiming to be her husband and canceling her flight,” Doug added.
“Thank God you used your personal funds to fund this little venture instead of company funds. We’d really have a mess on our hands then. ”
I sighed and grasped Victoria’s hand—searching for that steady strength she always provides.
“What next?”
“We release a prepared statement before arriving at UCLA. You undergo all of the necessary tests and spend some time acclimating in California before returning to New York. You need to publicly declare your relationship with Victoria, and we need to get you and Victoria in front of a camera for an interview, but not before announcing your condolences for the lives lost, especially First Officer Lancaster.”
My brows knitted in confusion.
“Who is First Officer Lancaster?”
“The co-pilot who perished,” Doug advised.
“Co-pilot Josh?” Victoria questioned, just as confused as I was.
“Correct. First Officer Joshua Lancaster is the son of the CEO of Solara Dynamics.”
“Solara Dynamics? The aerospace company?” I asked in disbelief.
“The one and only,” Amelia confirmed.
“Hmph. I don’t believe it. His father is the CEO of an aerospace company and couldn’t locate us with satellites?”
“That part,” Victoria mentioned. “Also, how weren’t we located sooner? Doesn’t the plane have a black box and tracking device?”
Doug cleared his throat again and fiddled with his tie.
“No,” I whispered.
“The aircraft was equipped with both; however, neither of them were functional. The FAA has officially grounded the aviation company, and I doubt they will clear another flight.”
“So why is Knox being sued again?” Victoria demanded.
“Knox is being named as a co-defendant in the lawsuit due to alleged duress that influenced the employees and the company. The lawsuit states that Knox has a history of chartering last-minute flights and has a reputation for being demanding, controlling, and creating high-stress environments.”
“This is bullshit,” I muttered.
“They didn’t lie about that last part. You are demanding and controlling, and that is why I had a cry room at the office,” Victoria said matter-of-factly.
“You knew this was coming,” Reynolds stated, flipping open a leather-bound portfolio and handing it to me. I scanned the documents.
“You want me to settle for $1 million per life lost?”
“Five million is a drop in the bucket for you, Knox,” Doug said, trying to reason with me.
“This is bullshit,” I argued, snapping the folder shut.
“Settling will be freeing,” Polly Pocket remarked.
“It’ll all go away, and you’ll never have to look over your shoulder again, wondering if you’ll be called to take the stand.
You settle with the families now, they sign their NDAs, and you focus on healing.
The settlement will never make it to the media. ”
I turned to Victoria and asked, “What do you think?”
She heaved a deep sigh and squeezed my hand before shooting me a look that had me folding like origami.
“I think these families woke up in the middle of the night with calls that their loved ones never made it to their final destination. They agonized for months, wondering if their loved ones were dead or alive, and now they have their answer. They’re hurting, and we’re thriving.
If I could, I’d pay it and move on, but the decision is up to you. ”
I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it.
“Pay the money, Reynolds,” I said, not taking my eyes off the woman I fell in love with long before we crash landed in the middle of paradise.
“I’ll get on that right away.”
“Tell the driver to make a detour.”
“Excuse me?” Doug and Amelia said simultaneously.
“I want to ensure that my wife is comfortable before I’m admitted to the hospital. Doug, book a suite—something with a panoramic view and an exquisite room service menu.”
“No, Gio. I’m going with you,” Victoria protested defiantly.
“Not this time, Tori. I want you to rest and relax before I return and be the biggest pain in the ass you’ve ever seen.”
“How thoughtful,” she replied, smirking as if she had won something.
“I’ve found a suite at The Marlowe Regent,” Doug mentioned.
“Sounds expensive. Book it.”