Page 50 of The Billionaire's Second Chance
I thought about it later that night, my laptop screen gone dark as I stared out over it, looking unseeing at my similarly darkened apartment. It wasn’t the first offer we’d gotten to buy the company. No tech startup could get as big as Veritech had without a few offers. I’d turned them all down. I wasn’t interested in selling.
But none of the offers had come from Sebastian Scott.
Don’t touch her again,he’d said after Sami went home that night fifteen years ago, blushing and tipsy, their father’s chauffeur picking her up from the curb where I’d waited with her, my jacket around her shoulders, her perfume on my skin.You’ve had your fun, Charlie, but she’s not for you.
I hadn’t thought about it in years, what he’d said.
“What do you mean?” I’d asked at last, and he’d huffed out a laugh, his eyes indicating the bedroom door.
“That’s one thing. But do you honestly think I’d let my sister get involved with you?” His chuckle wasn’t mean, just amused. “What do you really have to offer?” He’d clapped me on the shoulder and left me standing in the hallway, my throat thick as I tried to swallow down the knot in my stomach.
What did I have to offer?
* * *
I was still thinking about it the next night when the four of us–no, five–met at the Bankworth Club.
“The Bancroft Club,” Sebastian said, strolling in like he owned the place in yet another perfect suit. I adjusted my shoulders in my own jacket, retrieved, once again, from the coat check closet. “God, it’s good to be back.”
“Is it?” I asked. “I’d think this place would feel cheesy after living in London.” It felt cheesy to me, and I’d lived in New York my whole life.
He smiled. “It does,” he said. “But, well, you know, Charlie. It’s like home, isn’t it?” I grimaced. “And besides, you’d better get used to it. You’ll be spending a lot of time in places like this when your company is part of the Scott Group.”
“Presumptive of you,” I said.
“What’s this?” asked James. “What do you mean,when Veritech is part of the Scott Group? Charlie?”
“Sebastian–” I started, but he cut me off.
“I visited Charlie at work yesterday,” Sebastian said. “Made him an offer.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, glancing over at Ryan. I’d told him, of course, about the offer. He’d spent all afternoon getting a second set of paperwork ready; the preliminary documents that would lead to a purchase and sale agreement, if we decided to go that way.
If.
He hadn’t asked why I’d taken this one into consideration after rejecting all the others out of hand, just nodded and gotten to work. “Just a conversation between old friends.”
Sebastian nodded, smiling. “Of course.”
My phone vibrated, and I slipped it from my pocket, my heart rate spiking when I saw the name across the screen:Samantha Scott. It was probably just a follow-up for the fundraiser. A question about next week’s plans; now that the fundraiser was over, Samantha was going to spend several mornings next week visiting school libraries all over the city, reading the students picture books. The image of Samantha Scott in one of her tailored suits, standing perfectly straight in front of a crowd of jam-sticky five-year-olds brought a smile to my lips. I’d wanted to tease her about it–now the hard part begins–after the gala, but she’d disappeared without a trace sometime after the string quartet started breaking down their music stands and before the caterer had packed away the last of the hors d’oeuvres. She’d been… distant. I had to laugh at the absurdity of it:Samantha Scott, distant? Of course she was.
But she hadn’t been. Not at the hotel the week before, her breath hot on my skin as she clung to me, her eyes burning into mine as she rode my cock, hard and fast and desperate. Distance had been the furthest thing from my mind as she lay on the bed, breathless and glowing, rolling her eyes as I ordered a bottle of champagne from room service,the most expensive one.You’re ridiculous, you know that?It wasn’t that I took our meetings at the Sterling for granted. Just the opposite: every evening spent with her, every touch, every sigh and moan, every soft smile, everyglance…EverythingSamantha gave me was a gift.
I swiped open the text message.
Are you at the Bancroft?
Yes, I sent back.What’s up?
Is Sebastian there?
I swallowed, the pit in my stomach growing, and glanced up at the man, now playing pool with Barrett. Probably crushing him; Barrett was shit at pool.
Yeah, why?
“So, are you going to take it?” James said quietly, sinking into the leather club chair beside mine. I slid my phone away. I’d feel it when she responded.
“I don’t know,” I said, picking up my old fashioned, swirling it in my glass. Ice clinked against crystal. “I told him I’d think about it.”
