Epilogue
Malcolm
It took a long time before Sarah started to trust me again. We had to get acquainted with each other and I had to share the real stories of how I had grown up. Sharing my truth with her was the best way for us to move forward though, and soon she started to see that I really was that man she had fallen in love with.
“When are they going to get here?” Sarah asked with anticipation.
“Soon, stop being so anxious. You are a confident owner of a fabulous corporate retreat. They will love you.”
“They love you already; I’m not sure if they will love me nearly as much.”
It had been a year since I had proposed to Sarah and six months since our wedding. Our first corporate retreat guests were about to arrive and we were excited to test out all the different events and programs that we wanted to incorporate.
The group of forty people arriving were all Edwards Aviation managers and executives. They were coming to be our beta test group on the urging of me and I couldn’t wait to see everyone and introduce them all to Sarah.
Casey was now the CEO of Edwards Aviation and I had stepped down to simply be a member of the board of directors. It allowed me to still be involved in the big decisions, but I didn’t have to worry about the day to day tasks.
“Is that them?” Sarah asked as we looked up into the sky and saw the first helicopter landing.
It had been Sid’s idea to have a helicopter pick up guests and bring them out to the ranch. Sarah and I had been skeptical about it at first, but it was pretty cool to see the excitement on everyone’s faces as they got off the helicopter and saw the resort.
A down side to helicopter transportation was that only six people could arrive at a time, but we would figure something out for the remaining people to keep busy with while at the airport. The helicopter was fast and provided an exciting opportunity for our guests that they wouldn’t soon forget.
“I love you,” I said into Sarah’s ear as everyone made their way toward us.
“I love you, too.”
Jennifer and Casey were at the front of the group as they walked up the steps toward us and I was so excited to see them. Jennifer had moved into Casey’s old job when he took over my duties. I was proud to have such a capable woman leading my company and felt like it set a really good example for the other women that worked for me.
“Malcolm, it’s so great to see you,” Jennifer said as she hugged me.
Casey tried to reach his hand out to shake with mine, but I wasn’t having any of that. I grabbed a hold of him and gave him a big bear hug like Meredith had taught me. It made him super uncomfortable and I loved every moment of it.
“This is my beautiful wife, Sarah,” I said as I introduced them all. “She’s basically the reason I’m alive and breathing today.”
“He’s exaggerating.”
“Seriously, if I hadn’t been making love to her in the—”
“Shhh, enough with that story,” Sarah stopped me as she hugged both Jennifer and Casey.
We all laughed and I introduced Sarah to the rest of the executives that had come in on the first helicopter. Before we knew it, the rest of the managers and executives had arrived and we got started on the welcome mixer that we had planned out by the pool area.
The resort had turned out better than both of us had expected. It was one thing to see the plans drawn up and make decisions about tiles, carpet, etc. But it was an entirely different thing to see everything come to life in front of us.
Our resort wasn’t just classy and elegant, but it was made with natural products almost completely from Montana businesses. We had searched far and wide to ensure the entire building was as authentic as possible to the area.
We still had two more phases of construction to finish, but the main building was done and we were ready to start our testing of the programs we wanted to do. Sarah had been amazing at calling potential new clients and she even convinced me to buy this really cool robot that people could use to take tours right from the comfort of their own offices.
When phase two started, it was going to bring the ski lift area to life and then phase three was going to be trails and some backwoods cabins. We didn’t just want our resort to be one of those places that high level executives came to. Our resort was going to have something for artists, non-profits, and small businesses. It was exciting to plan things with Sarah and even more exciting to see our dreams coming true.
“Man, Malcolm, this place is amazing. And you look so relaxed. It really suits you,” Casey said as we sat in the corner trying to catch up.
“I know. I love it out here. I’m away from the rat race, but I still feel very connected with what’s going on in the world. It’s the best of both worlds.”
One of the aspects of our ranch that I had insisted on was the high level of technology. It had been the only thing that Sarah and I hadn’t really agreed on while we were planning the building. I believed that using technology would benefit the resort and make people see that we were innovators. Sarah believed that technology would hinder our appearance as being authentic. But when she found that cool robot that people could control from home, she was sold. It was the perfect way to show off our facilities without executive team planners needing to take a flight up to see us. She was convinced that robot was going to sell more events than she would.
“Your wife is beautiful. I can see why you were willing to give up everything to come be with her.”
It was a statement I had heard more than once from my male friends. They naturally believed I had given up my life in order to be part of Sarah’s. I understood where they were coming from, but what they didn’t understand was that I hadn’t given up anything. I had simply made choices in my life to pursue the things that mattered most to me and Sarah was one of the top priorities I had.
“She is pretty damn amazing.”
“So what’s next for you guys? More resorts? Are you going to build overseas too?”
“No, just this one. We are going to stay right here and enjoy running this place together. Maybe even have a couple little ones.”
“Really? That doesn’t seem like it’s enough to keep you happy.”
“I think it is.”
“All right, man, but remember, you’ve always got a place at Edwards Aviation. I’ll happily step aside if you ever come to your senses and decide you want to return to society.”
I noticed Sarah on her way over to see us and decided Casey’s comments didn’t really need a response from me. I had been that guy only two years before. I knew what he was thinking. How on earth could I actually be happy away from the business and excitement of Los Angeles? The truth was that it had taken me spending a year on the Miller ranch and almost getting murdered before I realized that the business world wasn’t the only good life there was out there.
Since my move to Montana and marrying Sarah, I had seen what true happiness was. I didn’t worry about dying of a heart attack caused by stress. I didn’t worry about getting into business with drug king. The stress I had in my life at that moment was all good stress and I thrived on my new life.
“What are you two guys talking about over here,” Sarah asked as she sat on the arm of the chair with me.
“Casey was just worried I wasn’t happy out here.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he protested.
“I know man, I know,” I said as I grabbed a hold of Sarah’s ass.
“Well he can’t go running off now, I need him to run this place when I start throwing up.”
Casey looked at Sarah and then at me. He started smiling and knew what Sarah was saying long before I had figured it out.
“Congratulations,” he said as he stood up and gave Sarah a hug. “Look at the poor shmuck, he doesn’t even know what’s going on.” Casey said as he shook my hand.
“Wait… are you?” I asked as I stumbled on my words.
“Yes, I’m pregnant,” Sarah said with a huge grin as she hugged me.
“I’m going to be a dad?” I said.
“Yes, you’re going to be a dad.”
I couldn’t stop looking at Sarah’s huge smile. That one simple thing had been how I had fallen utterly head over heels in lust with her. I stood there watching her as Casey congratulated her and talked baby talk with her. He was a father himself and knew all the right questions to ask.
“So I’m going to be a dad?” I managed to say again as I joined the conversation.
“Yes, you goofball,” Sarah said as she grabbed a hold of me. “And no, we aren’t naming your child after your horse.”
“Whaaat? I wasn’t even thinking about it. But now that you say that, Buck sure does sound like a strong name.”
We all started to laugh and I pulled Sarah close and dipped her down to deliver a dramatic kiss. This was the woman that I loved and I was excited to get the opportunity to raise a family with her and grow our life together. The twists and turns of my bad decisions had landed me the most amazing woman and life that I could have ever dreamed of.
BILLIONAIRE’S VIRGIN
By Joey Bush and Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
1.
Levi
Today was productive, considering the way it had started: waking up naked on a futon in some loft on the Lower East Side. Whose loft? I don’t know, much like I didn’t know the three naked girls I woke up with, our limbs all entwined so you couldn’t be quite sure whose arm belonged to who—excuse me—whom. I extricated myself from that without rousing any of the Sleeping Beauties and found my clothes and left. It would’ve been a real quick jaunt over to my father’s offices on Wall Street—Bassett Capital Management, just look for the gold-embossed BCM—but I opted against that. While I wouldn’t necessarily mind saying what’s up to the old man—so long as he was in a good mood—he’d take my visit as showing interest in the business, which I wasn’t.
Instead, I got a coffee, flirted with Justine, who I will probably sleep with when I get back from Ibiza, stopped in at Hard Knock Vinyl, flipped through the bins for a while, got a few import EPs, went back to the house with the records, and played on the Tech 12s for a couple hours. I made myself a sandwich, browsed Facebook and Instagram while I ate it, and then went back to my room to start packing for Ibiza.
Rosella, our cleaning lady, tapped on my door. “Mr. Levi,” she said. “I didn’t have a chance to clean in here yet. You were playing that music so loud earlier. I tried to get your attention but you didn’t hear me.”
“Oh, sorry, Rosella,” I said. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I just kind of get into the zone. Uh . . .” I glanced around the room. Aside from a few drawers being open on the dresser and a pair of jeans thrown on the recliner, the room was pretty immaculate. “Don’t worry about it, Rosella. I’m taking off soon, anyway. I’ll be gone for a couple of weeks.”
“And where might you be
going this time? Wait, let me guess. London?”
I shook my head. “Too stodgy.”
“Hmm . . . Vancouver?”
“Good guess, but no. I might go out to Whistler for Crankworx, but that’s not till August.”
“Thailand. Somewhere in Thailand, then.”
“Nope.” I grinned. “Ibiza.”
She laughed. “You always go there! Someone like you, you should be traveling to other places. The world is a very big place, you know.”
“I know. But it’s my favorite. Ibiza es mi segundo hogar.”
Rosella nodded in approval. “Very good, Mr. Levi! Your Spanish is improving.”
“Merci. I mean, gracias.”
“I’ll leave you to your packing, then. I’ll give your room a good cleaning next Friday when you’re gone.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Rosie. I’ll send you a postcard.”
She left, and I went back to packing. I had a bunch of clothes already over there, but I had a few things I wanted to bring with me. Also, a new Stephen King book to read on the plane.
I was over at my desk, looking for the book, when I sensed I was being watched. I turned, expecting to see Rosella again, but it wasn’t; no, it was my father.
“Hey, Dad,” I said.
He stood there in the doorway, arms across his chest. I found my book in my top middle desk drawer and tossed it in the suitcase.
“You’re packing,” he said.
“Almost finished.”
“And where might you be headed,” Dad said, in such a way that indicated he was not quite asking a question, nor did he really give a shit where I was headed.
“Ibiza,” I said, ignoring the immediate look of distaste that crossed Dad’s face.
“Ibiza,” he said. “Haven’t you been there . . . oh, I don’t know, dozens of times already?”
“I’m not keeping track. I guess you could check my passport.”
“I’m not sure I’d like what I’d find there.”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Levi.” Dad walked over and put his hand on my suitcase. “This chat is long overdue. I wasn’t aware that you were leaving today; otherwise, I would’ve talked to you about this sooner.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This can’t keep going on.”
I put on my most innocent expression. “What do you mean? I’m just going on a quick trip to see my friend, who’s finally getting a chance to spin at Creamfields. It’s a big deal.”
“I’m not even going to pretend like I know what that means,” Dad said. “What I do know is that this has gone on for far too long. And I suppose I don’t have anyone but myself to blame for it. I allowed it to happen. I didn’t say anything. No—that’s not true, I did say something but I don’t think I made myself clear enough.”
“Oh, you made yourself plenty clear,” I said. I could recall more lectures, more tirades, more empty threats, than I could even count. But nothing had ever come of it, and I doubted that anything would come of it this time, either. Really, what I should do was just let him say his piece, then I could get on with my packing and be on the beach at Ibiza, taking wonderful drugs of all sorts and dancing my ass off. I took a deep breath and rearranged my face into one of divine patience. Yes, yes, go ahead, Dad, say whatever it is you think you need to in order to make yourself feel better.
The thing was, I knew my dad didn’t need to feel better about anything; anyone who’s the owner of a top ten Fortune 500 company usually feels pretty damn good about themselves without help from anyone or anything else—except maybe their bank account.
“I want you to cancel your trip to Ibiza,” Dad said.
I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “Yeah, right. These tickets are nonrefundable. Creamfields isn’t just some club night. That happens all the time. No, this is a—”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’ve wasted money on much more ridiculous things. My money, by the way. Using my pilot, and my private jet, as well. What if I needed to go somewhere tonight?”
“I checked with Anders first. And if you don’t want me to use your jet, fine, I won’t. I’d fly coach out there if I had to; I’m not missing this, Dad. I know you probably think it’s just to go out and dance to crappy techno music, but really, I’m supporting a friend who has worked hard and is finally getting a chance to fulfill one of his dreams.”
“That’s interesting, Levi. I didn’t know you fraternized with people who actually had a work ethic. I would’ve hoped some of that might’ve rubbed off on you. I want you to cancel your trip.”
“And why would I cancel my long-anticipated trip to Ibiza?”
“Because I’m telling you to. Because I’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses long enough now, and I can’t just stand by idly and wait any longer. It’s obviously time for direct action on my part, because I’ve been too lenient with you all these years. I really thought that I just needed to let you get it out of your system, let you have the sort of carefree existence that I never had, and then you’d settle down and be ready to get to work. I don’t think it needs to be said how fortunate you are, but I’ll say it in case you’ve forgotten: You are luckier than most and I don’t think you realize it. You’ve had your time to play and be irresponsible, and now I’m asking you to roll up your sleeves and get serious. I’m not going to be around forever, you know, and I’d really like it if you’d start showing some interest in the family business. I want you to take it over for me, eventually. And that’s not going to happen if you’re off halfway across the world doing god knows what.”
“I just don’t think I’m really that business-minded,” I said. “I don’t even own a suit.”
Though I was a little surprised by the tone this conversation had taken; it had been suggested, but never expressly indicated that BCM would eventually be under my control. To be honest, I didn’t even know exactly what that entailed.
“It’s time,” Dad said. “I’ve been patient for long enough. It’s time to show Cal that you’re serious about this.”
“Oh,” I said. Cal Illes was Dad’s long-time business partner, sort of like my uncle, but not really. It was Cal that was behind this whole thing. “I get it. Well, listen, Dad, you can tell Cal that I’ve been waiting to see Devon spin at Creamfields for about forever now, and it’s just not something I can miss. Did you know I bought Devon his first pair of Tech 12s? Those are turntables, in case you didn’t know. Just like those.” I pointed across the room to my own set.
Dad didn’t even bother to look. “I’m forbidding you to go.”
“I’m not a kid, though. I think that only works for the eighteen-and-under set. I’m about a decade past that.”
“But you’re living off a trust that I funded.”
“And put in my name.”
“Yes, and put in your name. Was that foolish of me also?”
“So if it’s in my name, doesn’t that make it mine?”
“Don’t you want to do
something with your life? Have some direction? Do something productive? Do you
ever get sick of just chasing after the things that make you feel good? What
would you be doing if you didn’t have all this money? Have you ever thought
about that?”
“No,” I said. “I can’t say I’ve ever sat down and wondered, in specific detail,
what I would be doing if I didn’t have this money.”
“Then I guess there’s really no one to blame but myself. I thought you would learn by example. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the finer things in life. I myself certainly do. But my enjoyment is greatly enhanced by the fact that I put in the hard work to earn these things. You, though, you don’t have a clue what a day of hard work feels like.”
“Would you like me to go out and get a job? Is that what you’re saying? Do you know how many miserable fucking people I see every day, who hate their jobs and are only there because they have to be?”
“You have the resources and the intelligence to do something with your life that you are passionate about. Which, unfortunately, I don’t think you have any clue what that might be because you’ve never spent any time thinking about it. Many people have jobs because they need a paycheck. You have the luxury of finding work because it’s something you want to do.”
“Well, what I want is to go to Ibiza and support my friend, who, as I previously mentioned, has worked really hard to get where he is. Do you think they let just anyone spin at Creamfields? I’m talking Pete Tong, Armin Van Buuren, Paul—”
“I don’t know who any of those people are, and besides, that is completely irrelevant.”
I stuffed a few more things into my suitcase. This whole conversation was getting tedious, and I couldn’t wait to be on the plane, flying away from all of this bullshit. I’d probably double dose tonight; I deserved it.
“I’ve really got to get going, Dad,” I said. “I’m sorry that I can’t just cancel my plans.”
“You can, actually. You won’t is more accurate. Which is truly unfortunate. Because this is not an opportunity that’s just going to be available to you forever, if and when you come to your senses and decide it’s something you want to be a part of.”
“Well, Dad, I really don’t think I want to be a part of it. I mean, I don’t know a thing about business in the first place.”
“I know,” he said. “I’d help you with that.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, yanking the handle up out of my suitcase so I could pull it along on its little wheels.
Dad shook his head. “This is it, Levi. If you walk out that door, you are making a choice. And that choice is to turn your back on me and the family.”
“Family?” I said. “What family? It’s just you and me.” Aside from an ill-advised marriage when I was a teenager—got a wicked stepmother and a pudgy stepsister out of that deal—it had been just Dad and me. My mother had died when I was two, and though it’d be nice and heartwarming to say that I had some memory of her, I didn’t. There were some photographs, but none of those photographs come attached with actual memories. My real memories didn’t really even included Dad—he was always busy at work, leaving me to be raised by a rotating cast of nanny’s, and in part, Rosella.
“That’s still family,” Dad growled. “You’re still a Bassett. It doesn’t matter if there’s twenty of us or two.”
“Okay, sure,” I said. “That was a really rousing speech and all, very inspirational, but if you don’t mind, I’ve really got to get going—I’ve got a flight to catch. You know, the whole Creamfields thing I was mentioned.”
Dad pressed his lips together so they were little more than a thin line that looked like someone had drawn it on with a pencil. His brow furrowed, making the vein in the middle of his forehead stick out. But those lips pressed together like that meant that he wasn’t going to yell, he wasn’t going to say anything else. He was just going to let his disappointment and frustration saturate the air around us, as though I might breathe it in and be changed by it. Had that ever worked before? No, it hadn’t. He was pissed, but really, what was he expecting? I had to be somewhere, after all.