The Billionaire Bum - Page 28

After a minute she answered me and her tone was far more spiteful than I could have imaged.


“Is that what your parents did, Jackson?” she choked, half exasperation and half tears.


“When you broke your toys they just bought you new ones and you thought it fixed everything?


I’ve poured my whole fucking life into that restaurant. Lexy and I finished those tables by hand because they were cheaper unstained, and I couldn’t afford them any other way. My father and his friends laid that hardwood floor one foot at a time. I picked each and every part of that place.


My decisions, the sweat of my friends and family. Don’t you fucking tell me that you can fix this with a blank check.” She broke down into sobs, and it was all I could do to keep the car on the road.


She was right. I was an ass, a monumental ass. I bought and sold companies like she sold sandwiches. I didn’t build my business with blood and sweat the way she did. I didn’t understand at all. I couldn’t replace the hours that she spent picking china patterns or painting the walls just the right color. I wasn’t there when she opened the doors to her business. I didn’t get to see how proud her father was that day. If I knew her at all, I would have known that I was sticking my foot in my mouth. I was making mistake after mistake despite the fact that I would do anything to make her happy.


“You’re absolutely right, Alissa,” I whispered. “I’m sorry that I keep screwing up. I can’t make it better, but I will do anything you ask of me. I will be here for you whatever you need, and if you want me to get the hell out of your way, I will do that, too.”


“I just want to get there,” she mumbled. She looked exhausted.


I decided to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the day. This was her life, and I was still largely an outsider in it. I would wait until she needed me to do something. I would listen to her instead of jumping to conclusions.


We pulled onto her street, and I parked at the curb across from her building. There was yellow police tape across her door, and her father was standing out front. I took a deep breath.


Here we go.


I left her to her father. He was glaring at me. I was clearly making a wonderful impression on him.


At least she hadn’t been in her apartment last night when they broken in.


I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers. This was going to be a very long day.


Chapter 25: Phoenix from the Ashes


Alissa


My dad tried to stop me at the door, but even I could tell that it was a halfhearted attempt.


He knew as well as I did that I was going to have to go in there eventually. I wanted to get it out of the way. Once I got past the initial shock, I would be able to focus on the next steps. I wanted to be on my way to a solution, and the first step to that was facing the damage.


I felt bad for snapping at Jackson. Honestly, I didn’t mean it, but he had frustrated me with his quick dismissal of my concerns. Sometimes I just wanted someone to tell me that life sucks. I didn’t want his money, and I didn’t want him to feel guilty about all of this. I just wanted him to wallow in misery with me for a little while. Was that so hard?


I leaned back against the doorframe and surveyed the damage. Most of the walls were covered with red spray paint. It was clear that the goal was to paint as much of my restaurant as possible with profanities. Their vocabulary left something to be desired: cock-sucker, whore, and slut weren’t very original.


They had overturned most of the tables and chairs and there was splintered wood all over the floor. A huge stack of plates was shattered in the middle of the mess, which meant that they had been in the kitchen too. There were very few things that were untouched. I sighed and wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand.


After a minute, my father came to my side. He looked like he was having an internal debate on hugging me. We never really had a huggy-type of relationship. I stepped back, letting him off the hook.


“Do they know who did it?” I asked.


“No,” he said. “Someone with a key, they think. Who had keys?” I ran through the list in my head. “Um. Me, Tyler, Lexy, Matt. I don’t know. I don’t really think any of them would have done this.”


“We should call them all anyway, see if anyone is missing a set of keys.”


“Yeah, okay. I’ll get their numbers.”


I walked awkwardly through the destruction to the kitchen. Fortunately, they had kept most of the damage in the dining room. According to my dad, a neighbor across the street had called the police when they heard the noise… probably the plates. It seemed like they only had time to smash one stack before the sirens had chased them off.


Truthfully, it could have been a lot worse. I could repaint the walls. I would need all new furniture - most of the tables and chairs were either broken or covered in paint - but that was really the worst of it. I could just order twenty-five new plates. I wouldn’t need all new china, and they hadn’t touched the glasses.


I pulled my employee records from the file that I kept in one of the kitchen drawers. I gave the appropriate numbers to my dad. He looked grateful that he had something productive to do.


I went back into the dining room and started picking up the overturned chairs, collecting the ruined table clothes, and surveying the damage in more detail. After a few minutes I noticed Jackson following my example, his arms full of red stained cloth.


“Just make a pile for them here,” I said, dropping my armful on the floor. We’ll burn them when the police are done with the pictures of everything. Jackson nodded and added his to my pile.


“’Lissa?” My dad called from the doorway. “We might have a lead.”


“Really?” I asked. I wondered if one of my employees knew something.


“Yeah. We called Tyler. He says he doesn’t have his keys.”


“Oh. Did he lose them?” I hoped not. That would mean that the damage could have been done by anyone.


“No. He says he lent them to Ryan.”


Jackson dropped a chair behind me, and it clattered to the floor.


“Who’s Ryan?” I asked.


My dad looked at Jackson. I looked at Jackson. Jackson looked like he was going to pass out.


After a minute he answered me quietly. “Ryan is the chef that I hired to help run your business until you were well enough to return. I am such an idiot. He would have known Kayla from some of our previous functions. I should have seen that. I didn’t know that they were friends, but it makes sense for it to be related. I am so sorry. This is all my fault.” He looked utterly defeated. “I just can’t do anything right when it comes to you. I swear to you I’m just trying to help, and I just keep bringing more danger and destruction into your life. I never meant for any of this to happen. I should leave. I’ll just go.” He looked over his shoulder at my dad. “Please, Mr. Allen, if I can do anything to help the police, you have my number. I will do anything I can, please just ask. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”


I sat down in one of my ruined chairs and laid my head against the table. “Stay, Jackson,” I said.


“What?” he asked.


“I think he has the right idea, Alissa.” my dad chimed in, “I can help you clean this up.


We don’t need him here.”


“Dad,” I said, “a little privacy please?” I didn’t look up, but I heard his boots on the floor as he walked out.


“Jackson, come here.”


He hesitated, but eventually crossed the room to me and pulled out the chair next to mine.


He sat down beside me, and I lifted my head from the table.


“Jackson, I am going to say something to you, and I want you to not interrupt me okay?” He nodded to show his consent.


“It is not your fault that you are successful. It is not your fault that people want to take advantage of your success.” He looked like he wanted to interrupt, but I held up my hand to remind him that he just promised not to do that.


“You have been a victim of some terrible circumstances in the last few days, just like me.


You are not at fault. I appreciate your trying to help with my business while I couldn’t be here. It was very thoughtful of you to consider the things that are important to me. I appreciate your letting me stay with you. If not for you, I might have been here when they broke in, and I could have gotten hurt.”


I reached out and pulled his hand into my lap, lacing my fingers with his. “Thank you for everything that you have done, Jackson. I am sorry that I snapped at you earlier. I hope you can understand the fear that I was feeling. I wasn’t really angry with you, and I am not angry now.


We don’t even know what happened yet. The police will look into it, but it could be that Ryan had nothing to do with this. Either way, it doesn’t matter. It’s Kayla’s fault or whoever made this mess, not yours. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I don’t want you to leave. I need you to stay with me.”

Tags: Samantha Blair Billionaire Romance
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