Page 24 of Until Daddy

“I’m going to be the best girl.” She laughed.

Chapter 7

The hours dragged behind Jamison as he walked down the hallway to his office. Typically, he found himself engrossed in real estate deals and broker negotiations by this time of day. But today wasn’t typical—he’d woken up in Carissa’s bed, holding her against him as though letting her go would mean she’d slip off into the darkness. Which was ridiculous; it was her apartment, after all, where the hell would she go?

The entire evening had been nothing less than perfect. After he’d given her the mind-blowing release she’d deserved, they’d taken a short nap. When they woke up, they’d scoured her kitchen for something to eat and come up short. The woman really needed to keep a better stock of food. Being a nurse, she had no reason to ignore her own nutrition.

Talk came easily to them, as though they’d been doing it for years. Falling asleep at her place hadn’t been planned, but when he tucked her into bed, and she asked if he wanted to lie with her for a minute, he couldn’t find the courage to tell her no.

It was the first time he’d ever slept beside a woman he hadn’t first fucked senseless. The act seemed more intimate this way. It held more meaning.

“Jamison! Finally, there you are, son.” Barron Croft bounded out from behind Jamison’s desk when he entered his office.

He looked back at his panicked secretary who was on the telephone, trying to both apologize to him and take a message from the person on the line.

Waving away any guilt she may have harbored, he closed the door. No one could stop his father—if Barron wanted into the office, he’d bulldoze his way in no matter who he ran over.

“Father.” He grasped the hand being thrust at him. The grip a little less sturdy than in the past, but his father was getting older. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You never are!” Barron pointed at him. “Did you get a chance to read the reports I gave you? I spoke with that friend of yours, Garrick. He’s on board.”

“Oh, he is?” Jamison hadn’t heard a word from Garrick since their last talk. If he was in full support of the project, he would have informed him before his father.

“Well, he sounded rather interested.” Always a back door available for back peddling.

“I did take a brief look, but I wanted to take a look at the location, and we should get firm estimates before we start pooling together investors—why are you shaking your head at me?” he asked.

“Because we don’t have time for all that nonsense,” his father said.Nonsense?

“Since when are market research and projections on the investment nonsense?” Jamison asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He rounded the room and pulled out the folder his father had given him.

“Just tell me if you’re interested!” His father’s usually pale complexion tinted red, and his eyes widened with irritation.

“If it’s a sound investment, then yes, I would be interested. But there’s more to it than just building a condominium building.”

“No, no, not condos. I told you, I want to build a hotel—well, we’d sell apartments on the top floors, but the rest of the building would be a hotel. International hotel.” Barron’s eyes lit up with the very words.

“Hotel? We don’t know anything about hospitality ownership. We’ve only ever invested in real estate—”

“Oh, bullshit, son. You and your friend own shares in several clubs. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I know what my son’s spending his money on. I don’t care much for what your after-hours activities are, but they appear to be bringing you some capital gains.”

Jamison stared at his father. In all the years during which his father had made wild claims, told his outrageous lies to cover up other contemptuous activities, he’d never once mentioned that he knew where all of Jamison’s investments lay.

“Don’t get defensive now.”

“Father, the investments I make are in clubs and restaurants, as well as real estate deals, but none of them are hotels, and I don’t run any of them. I buy shares, a good number of shares, but I don’t buy main ownership shares for the very reason that I don’t want to run them.” The involvement he had at Dark Lace was as deep as he got with his investments.

Barron’s shoulders slumped.

“Look at the reports. You’ll see that we’ll make a mint, and our name will be on the largest international chain since that over-comb cornered the market.”

Jamison let himself chuckle at the contempt in his father’s tone.

“I’ll look. I promise.” He pushed the folder to the side and sat down in his plush leather chair. His neck was still stiff from Carissa’s small bed, he tried to rub it away.

“Why are you so hell bent on this particular project? You’ve never been interested in the hospitality game.”

“I’m not getting any younger,” Barron said. That was his entire explanation.

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