New York Rain

CHAPTER 2

Brenton raised his fist to strike the bag again, but paused before delivering a right cross.

This was annoying.

He grabbed a silk handkerchief, Louis Vuitton of course, from his desk and mopped the sweat off of his brow, chest and shoulders, and then walked over to the window to stare out over the New York skyline. It was always a breathtaking sight, especially at night with the lights of the city spread out like a million stars before him.

Since his meeting with Jade Gillie earlier, he had hardly been able to get her off of his mind. He didn't know why, or how this had happened. Her proposal had been good, he had to admit. He was a shrewd thinker, and it was rare for a good idea to escape his attention. Her plan to bring in the new Chinese solar technology was, in his mind, a sure winner. In fact, there was no question about it; whoever invested in that tech and brought it into the USA was sure to be the next Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.

Of course, Brenton didn't care about the money; he had more than enough of that to last him until the planet itself got burned up by the sun in a few million years, if he somehow found out a way to cheat age and death, of course. Fame; well, he had some of that as well. He'd been on the cover of Forbes, and the company he owned and the story of his meteoric rise to billionaire level had been featured in The Economist. He'd been interviewed on television shows, had made friends with Hollywood movie stars and the top pop stars in the world. Hell, he'd popped a bottle of champagne at ten thousand feet in a helicopter ride with two former US presidents.

No, it wasn't her ideas, or the promise of fame and riches that came with them that had been occupying his thoughts this whole evening – it was her, herself. Ms. Jade Gillie.

There was something about her that he hadn't been able to get off of his mind. She was attractive enough, it was true. And he did have a preference for darker women – he always had, since he had been a boy – and he had to admit that when he had first seen her walk through his office doors that afternoon, his eyes had roamed quite freely over the sensuous curves of her body, revealed so tantalizingly through her sleek business suit.

She had a nice ass.

No, scratch that – a great ass. It was true; he couldn't deny it. And he found his thoughts wandering, and wondering – wondering how that ass would look clad only in a G-string. And then his thoughts began wandering even further, trying to picture the curve of her hip, firm and round, and the soft, flat belly, up which his hands would roam, stroking that milk chocolate skin with gentle fingertips, heading up towards those round, pert breasts that he could cup in his big, powerful hands as he-

“Sir?”

Brenton was snapped out of his daydream by Claire, his secretary.

“Am I disturbing you, sir?”

“No, no, come on it.”

“Sorry sir, it just looked like your mind was on something.”

“It was, but it wasn't anything important.”

“I've finished compiling all the files for the Fuller case.”

“Great! I'll get to work on those, thank you.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Claire looked a bit worried, and it seemed that she was about to say something, but she stopped herself, and turned around to walk out of the office.

“Is there something else you wanted to say, Claire?”

She turned around.

“Sir, it's almost midnight, and you're going to keep working? I know you're something of a workaholic, but these last few nights you've really been burning the midnight oil, and starting again so early in the morning, and, to be honest, I think it's unhealthy. You're hardly getting any sleep, and you're putting in these eighteen hour days-”

Brenton smiled, but held up a finger to silence her.

“I appreciate your concern, Claire, I really do, but you don't need to worry about me. I enjoy this work, I really do. I wouldn't be taking on this case if I didn't want to. And listen hon, you don't get to the top – and stay at the top – by working like an average Joe, starting at nine and signing off at five. That's not how I work, and you know it. You go on home and get yourself some shuteye. Don't worry about me.”

“I can't help it sir. You're such a wonderful man, and I know you've got huge reserves of strength and energy, but I feel like you're pushing yourself too hard.”

Brenton smiled.