Chapter Five
Hair drenched in a conditioning mask and swept up in a towel, wearing a bathrobe while leaning back in a massage chair, Alex sipped a glass of champagne as a technician painted her toes.
“God, I needed this,” Alex admitted.
Nick looked exactly like her in the chair on her right. “Girl, same.”
“Why don’t we do this more often?” she asked.
Nick fixed her with a stare. “Let’s see ... Daddy died, left you all the money and all the responsibility, and you’ve hardly taken a day off since.”
“It’s been a big learning—”
“ Learning curve ,” Nick finished for her. “You’ve been saying that for nearly a year.”
“Maybe in five, I’ll feel like I know what I’m doing.” In five years, Alex would likely feel as if she’d aged twenty.
“You know you don’t have to do this. You, Chase, and Max can appoint a competent CEO, step back, and collect a check.”
“And do what?” She lifted the glass holding the champagne. “Work my way into the Betty Ford Clinic?”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
More times than she could count, Alex had considered exactly what Nick was suggesting. Yes, Chase and now Max were right there with her, making the big decisions about how to steer Stone Enterprises, but she was the one guiding all three of them.
Max had a lot more on his plate to learn than either she or Chase. Her half brother stepped out of his steel-toe shoes and blue-collar work when he learned of his vast inheritance.
He now resided in their father’s estate in Beverly Hills with his girlfriend, Sarah.
His story had been first-page news for months.
Once thought to be an orphan, Max basically found and lost both of his parents in a matter of a few months.
While he was now officially an orphan, he had Chase and Alex.
Something Alex wouldn’t change for the world.
“It’s getting easier,” Alex deflected.
“I’ll believe that when we have more of these dates,” Nick said. “And when are we going to buy you a house? I can’t believe you’re still in that oversize apartment.”
“It’s a condo.”
“It’s an apartment. You’re a billionaire.” Nick pointed his wineglass her way.
The technician looked up at Alex with a raised brow.
“Nick . . .”
“Billionaires don’t live in condos or apartments. They live in lavish penthouses in Manhattan or sprawling estates behind gates with someone doing their laundry and cooking their meals. Even Max has figured that out.”
“Dad’s estate is perfect for him.” Chase and Alex were only recently able to walk into the Beverly Hills estate and not cringe at the memories of their father within the walls.
“Speaking of real estate, when are Chase and Piper moving?”
“Escrow will close next month. But they have some remodeling they want done before they move in,” Alex said.
The modest home Chase had owned before their father’s windfall could have worked for him longer, except for the lack of privacy. Now that her brother had a family to consider, Chase was moving them behind gates and away from prying eyes and cameras.
Nick’s face filled with a smile. “Now that’s how you spend money. You need to take lessons.”
“I spend plenty.” She didn’t. Not really. You had to have time outside of work to actually spend anything.
Nick rolled his eyes. “I’d bet my Swifty tickets that the last time you spent anything outside of a lunch or dinner, it was with me during the holidays.”
He’d be right. “How much did those tickets cost?”
“Too much,” he told her. “C’mon, Alex, let’s at least narrow down where you want to buy.”
Where was a huge question. “Someplace close to the office is best.”
“Why? So you can work late and rattle home at ungodly hours?”
“Precisely.”
“You always talked about a place with the ocean as your closest neighbor.”
“Santa Monica is just as congested as where I am now.” That’s where Alex and Chase had been raised by their mother.
They may not have had an ocean view, but that didn’t stop Alex from spending plenty of time on the beach, watching the water.
It brought her stress level down with each crash of the waves.
“Go north. Malibu.”
“Too far.” Her thoughts drifted to the event the night before. “Just yesterday, Floyd told me, last minute, about a meet and greet with an oil family that was in town. I wouldn’t have had time to go home, change, and make it to the event if I owned in Malibu.”
Nick furrowed his brow. “And what was gained by attending this last-minute shindig?”
Alex set her glass down and stared into nothing.
“I discovered that Floyd is a world-class asshole, and the majority of men suck.” She took a few minutes to explain what had happened.
How the cocktail meet and greet was an excuse for men to party with their mistresses.
“I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. ”
“Sounds like a setup. One Floyd orchestrated to make you feel that way.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not going to say a single word to him on Monday. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how the night went. And believe me, it was a shit show. When I left, Bakshai’s oversize bodyguard followed me into the parking lot.”
Nick’s glass halted halfway to his lips. “Followed you?”
Alex glanced at her arm, still felt the man’s meaty grip. “Told me that his boss wanted to make sure I got home safely.”
Nick hesitated. “That doesn’t sound bad, but I can tell from your expression it wasn’t good.”
She shook her head. “Scared the crap out of me. It was almost like he was insisting I let him drive me.”
“The bodyguard?”
“I’m guessing that’s what he was. The kind of guy you expect to stand next to a mob boss on TV. Big and bulky with an expression set on ‘pissed off at the world.’ I dropped my purse and busted the screen on my phone.”
“What did you say to the guy?”
Her thoughts made room for Hawk. “I didn’t have to say anything. Another man intervened. Thankfully.” The flash of Hawk moving between her and the big guy and the relief she’d felt in that moment had her shivering.
“With a fist, I hope.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said. Though there had been a moment when she thought it might come to that.
“Was the parking lot dark?” the woman painting Alex’s toes asked.
“Yeah.”
“Was anyone else around?”
Alex diverted her attention to the woman. “No. Not that I saw.”
The technician pressed her lips together and didn’t make eye contact.
“Sounds like you’re lucky,” she said simply.
“And I need to escort you the next time,” Nick added.
“Lucky, yes. As for an escort ... next time I’ll stay with the valet until my driver comes around.”
“You should call out this Bakshai guy,” Nick said.
“And what? Show him weakness?” Alex asked.
“That’s not how this game works. The minute you open yourself up, someone is going to be there to exploit you.
Bakshai knew exactly what he was doing. A fake smile, a kind greeting, and a promise to get in touch should there be a need.
I didn’t think for a second he was sincere. The parking lot proved that.”
She could certainly have perceived the incident as her overreacting.
If not for Hawk.
He wouldn’t have been overreacting. There was nothing about a dark parking lot that would scare a tall, broad-shouldered, confident man like that.
“You need to be more careful.”
“You’re right. I will.”
Dee sat across from Alex first thing Monday morning with a laptop open. “Your meeting with Shelby is at nine tomorrow morning,” Dee informed Alex. “Everything I could find on Casa Noel Properties is in your inbox, including the meeting minutes leading up to and including the vote.”
“And Stone Holdings?”
“I’m still working on that.”
Understandable, considering Alex had given Dee plenty of last-minute work to jump on the previous Friday.
“Once you’ve given that to me, call Max and see when he can come in for a meeting. Then rearrange my schedule to see that it works for both Chase and I.” Alex would make the call herself, but Dee had a much better grasp of Alex’s schedule than she did. “But before the board meeting on Friday.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Alex clenched her jaw.
“How does my afternoon look?” Alex asked.
“You’re clear after two, except for a scheduled meeting with Mr. Tanaka.”
Alex scratched her memory to unearth the name. “Tokyo, right?”
“Yes.”
That’s right. Tanaka was in charge of the Stone Hotels in Japan.
“His employee file is in your inbox. You spoke with him briefly after Mr. Stone ... your father’s death. I’ve added last quarter’s P&L statement.”
Alex smiled, impressed with Dee’s efficiency. “Perfect. Thank you. I believe we both have enough to keep us busy today.”
Dee smirked, closed her laptop, and stood. “Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Gatlin wanted a meeting with you this morning.”
I bet he does.
“Do I have room?”
“Ten thirty or eleven fifteen,” Dee said from memory.
Alex considered her options. “Eleven fifteen. And if anything comes up, bump him until tomorrow.”
Dee offered a flat line of a smile. “Okay.”
Alex opened the Casa Noel file Dee had pieced together the moment she was alone. Dee had summarized the board meeting minutes preceding the purchase of Casa Noel and color-coded the board members as to who was for or against the acquisition during that meeting.
Alex was thick into the pages of the report when Dee called from her desk.
“Yes?”
“There is an Ashraf Bakshai downstairs that is asking to see you. I told him your schedule was busy, but—”
A chill ran all the way up Alex’s spine and snapped her head up. “Is Chase in?”
“No. We’re not expecting him until ten.”
What the hell could Ashraf want?
To apologize for his help ?
Whatever it was, Alex wouldn’t run from it.
“Tell security to escort him up. Only him. If there is someone with him, they need to stay in the lobby. Meet them at the elevator and bring Bakshai to my office. Don’t close my office door. Give us ten minutes and then interrupt to tell me about my conference call I’m supposed to be on.”
“You don’t have a conference call.”
Alex looked to the ceiling. “I don’t wish to speak with Mr. Bakshai for more than ten minutes.”
“Oh, okay.”
“When he leaves, escort him to the elevators.”
“Do you want security to wait for him?”
That would seem too obvious. “That won’t be necessary.”
Alex disconnected the call and closed the file in front of her.
Three minutes later, a soft rap of knuckles against her office door said they’d arrived.
Shoulders back, Alex stood. “Come in.”
Dee entered first, quickly followed by Bakshai.
The man smiled as he crossed the room.
Alex rounded her desk and extended her hand. “Mr. Bakshai. I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
He wore a tailor-made suit that Armani himself likely crafted. The man screamed money from head to foot. From the way he held himself to the shine on his shoes, which likely were never put away with so much as a speck of dust.
Bakshai’s handshake was like the first. Firm-ish and lingering. “I was on my way to the airport and thought it was best to make this call in person.”
Alex pulled free of the handshake and indicated the couch.
“Was there something that came up over the weekend where I can be of assistance?”
Bakshai’s gaze skirted over the open door before he moved to the sofa.
He didn’t speak right away, and when he did, he didn’t answer her question. “You appeared to be in a rush when you left. I thought perhaps something had happened to prompt your hasty departure.”
Alex took a seat opposite the man and tucked her legs to the side, crossing them at the ankles.
She considered keeping the narrative centered around her needing to attend a different event, then changed her mind. “I think we both know that the invitation was meant for businessmen like my late father. And that my presence was a surprise to you and your guests.”
His eyes stayed locked on hers. The slight smile on his lips didn’t waver. “That made you no less welcome.”
His lack of denial wasn’t expected.
“I doubt some of your guests would agree. However, I don’t have time for gossip and have zero desire to interfere in the affairs of others. I’m much too busy for that.”
“That doesn’t make the knowledge any less valuable, Ms. Stone. Something your father and I knew very well.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Is that why you host your event ... annually? To gain knowledge?”
He sat back and considered her with a lift of his chin. “People in our position depend on every whisper to move forward.”
“And here I thought it was hard work.”
Bakshai let out a little chuckle. “That, too.”
“Is this the reason you stopped by? To educate me on knowledge-gathering events?”
He shook his head. “No. That was an excuse. My associate was instructed to hand you my personal card as you were leaving. He told me he was unable to do so.”
Alex didn’t flinch. Which surprised even her. Was Bakshai testing her? To see if she’d mention the altercation or determine if she’d been scared? Was he weighing what it took to drive fear into her?
Or was the man simply covering his ass?
“Your personal card?” Alex wasn’t happy with the unwelcome flutter in her gut. The one that told her this man was hell-bent on getting her alone.
Maybe allowing him into her office had been a bad idea.
Even with the door open.
Bakshai reached into the breast pocket of his suit and removed said card before extending it to her.
“I’m having a gathering in Dubai next month and would love it if you could attend.
There will be plenty of people there that would welcome your acquaintance.
And before you ask ... this event is much more gender equal. ”
“Your wife will be there?”
“There will be many wives there.”
“You have more than one?” Alex asked with a lift of an eyebrow.
“The one I have costs me enough, I assure you.”
Dee’s voice stopped the conversation from continuing. “Excuse my interruption, Ms. Stone. Your conference call is on hold, waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Dee.”
Bakshai took the hint and stood. “I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
Alex moved in step behind him.
He stopped at the door and turned. “My invitation is sincere, Ms. Stone. My guest list is very extensive, very ... international. Much like your corporation.”
Alex extended her hand again. “I’ll consider it.”
His handshake was much quicker this time. “Bring your brother ... or brothers. Whatever you prefer.”
How about a bodyguard? she instantly thought.
“Have your office call Dee. We’ll see what we can do.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder, smiled, and then turned to leave.
Alex closed the door and leaned on it. Fiddling with the card in her hand, she read his name and the international phone number.
No business logo, no corporate address.
Just his name and phone number.