His Dirty Demands (Dirty Billionaires 1)
Page 21
“Hey, you’re out of here in a hurry on a Friday. You didn’t respond to my last text. I was really hoping to hang out again.”
How could he be so thick? I’ve been putting him off all week long. After Cesare showed up to my apartment, I felt I’d gotten the response I wanted. I also didn’t feel comfortable enough around Wyatt to pretend. “I’m sorry. I don’t see us going out again. This just isn’t a good time for me right now. I’m sorry.”
Anger flickers in his eyes. I back up and he fakes a smile. “Sure, no big deal. I better get back to work. Have a good night.”
Relieved he isn’t going to make a big deal out of it, I escape while there are still people around.
My weekend is quiet. Bethany and I have a long laughter-filled talk. No matter what’s happened, I am grateful for my job and all it has allowed me to do. I was finally able to afford to have all new tires put on Bethany’s car last week and have some other car repairs done that we’d been holding off on.
Friday night I slept the longest I have in weeks from pure exhaustion. Saturday I hadn’t slept well yet again. It’s Sunday as I think over the last encounter with Cesare, and the way I’m still filled with longing and need every time I see him. I have to quit. Whatever I’m feeling isn’t going away; in fact, it feels like it’s getting more intense. I don’t think it will magically disappear when I leave, but I do believe it won’t be as bad as seeing Cesare every day and knowing I can’t have him...or maybe I’m just hoping. I don’t know, but I can’t do it anymore.
Sitting down with my calendar and my bills even though I want to put in my notice on Monday to rip off the band-aid I see it would be best if I give it another week before putting in my two weeks’ notice. I call Zack. The conversation isn’t easy, but he’s more than happy to take me back. He’s confident he can even make it as if I’ve never left.
***
Alicia
On Monday I’m relieved Hannah is back. We talk about her week off, and I see pictures of the nursery she and her daughter completed. When she leaves Hannah gives me a hug and tells me if I ever want to talk, she’s here for me. I nod, knowing I won’t take her up on the offer.
Tuesday when I come into the office I notice it seems hushed, almost like it’s a library. Normally the office is a bustling, loud, place. When I get to my desk I find Hannah glum as she crochets a baby blanket. I’ve never seen her do that at her desk.
“What’s going on?”
Sighing heavily, “It’s Dante. Today is the twentieth anniversary of his father, you know.” I nod, instantly understanding. “Last night Dante started drinking and didn’t stop until the bar forced him out. He stumbled into the street and was knocked down by a cab.
“Thankfully the fool is fine, more or less. He broke his left wrist and has a concussion. Dante’s phone was misplaced in the emergency room. Cesare didn’t find out about it until this morning. He’s going to be out of the office for today. I’ve already cancelled all of his and Dante’s appointments for today. You might want to cancel any appointments Dante has for tomorrow too.”
“Is Dante in the hospital? Should I go see him?” Really, I mean Cesare. I’m desperate to see him to make sure he’s okay.
“Child, that is the last thing you want to do right now. He’s home as of an hour ago. Cesare said he’d work from Dante’s, but I know he’s not really going to be up to it. I’ve gotten one email from him and that was to cancel his appointments, like I hadn’t already done that.”
I nod. I can’t think of a good reason to see Cesare and my heart aches for both Cesare and Dante. I could not imagine what they are going through. The day is quiet. I spend it reading after I’ve caught up on all my work. Hannah leaves for the day with a small wave a little after three.
I’m lost in my book when my cell phone rings. It’s Bethany’s ringtone, and instantly I’m concerned. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s almost four. Bethany has known since she was a little kid to only call me at work if it was an emergency. “What’s the matter?” I don’t hesitate to answer.
She sniffles, and fear kicks me hard in the gut. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” I brace for the worst.
“I went to a party last night and got drunk. I know I shouldn’t have, but the party was only a few blocks away, so I drove home. When I got home, I sideswiped Kelsey’s car. The BMW her dad bought her for Christmas.” Holy fuck. I remember Bethany talking about how Kelsey loved and hated the car. Loved that it was a BMW, but hated it didn’t come with all the upgrades she wanted. “She completely flipped her shit. I kept saying I would pay to have it fixed. I begged her not to file against my insurance, with that speeding ticket I have from last year it will shoot up. Only she’s still angry from me telling her that since you got the new job, I wanted to move out and get my own place. She’s threatening to call the police and report I was driving after drinking.”
My stomach drops. If Bethany is charged with drunk driving, there is no way she’ll get into a physician assistant program. “Where are you?”
“At home, hiding in my room.”
“Is she there?”
“Yeah.”
“Put her on the phone.”
“Okay.”
Fucking hell. I log into my bank’s website. I’m the lowest I’ve been in a long time, since I just spent almost two thousand all told getting Bethany’s car and her hotel upgraded. The savings account that held the money I’ve been saving for Bethany’s master’s program is at nineteen thousand. Which should cover the first payment due at whichever school she gets into, either Duke or Iowa.
In my trading account, the place I’ve been able to turn the measly paychecks for the last seven years into enough to live off, I’m sitting at the lowest I’ve been in
over a year. With the turmoil of the market, I didn’t think it was safe. I have a little over ten thousand in a strong solid stock, so I could pull off a trade in two days I’ve been doing for years on margin. Trading on margin was by nature a risky thing to do since I was borrowing against the value of a stock. This trade was worth the risk, it would net me at least a thirty percent return.