Chapter Nine
Stacia
We spent three and a half wonderful, blissful days at Ian’s cabin. Calling it a cabin still seemed a little ridiculous to me. Yes, it was cabin style, but it was far from roughing it by any stretch of the imagination. Anyway, while there, it seemed as if we had grown closer. Ian let me watch him as he “threw a mug” on his pottery wheel. Watching the intense expression on his face, and the strength of his hands and arms as he concentrated on forming everything just right, turned me on. While I didn’t sit on his lap and give it a try for myself like in the movie, Ghost, I was certainly primed and ready to help him wash off the clay in the shower once he’d finished.
Along with getting more acquainted with Ian’s love of art and his secret works, we spent an entire day skiing. Well, Ian spent most of the day teaching me and accompanying me on the bunny slopes as they were called, though he was far more capable and able to handle the much more intense slopes. I must say, I think I fell in love with skiing. It was definitely something I would be up for trying again. Especially, if Ian were around to help me.
And it was that last thought that made my heart sink, as I stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the private plane’s entrance. It was Christmas Eve and we were on our way to Dallas. Not only was that the city where Zerlinger Beers was headquartered, but it was where Ian’s brother, Bruce, lived and was hosting the business’ holiday party. But that wasn’t what had me sad as I watched Ian talking on the phone as he stood next to the town car that’d brought us to the airport.
No, my sadness was due to the fact that after tonight he’d have no more use for me. The deal we’d made, a little over a month prior, was that I would accompany him to the events he needed to attend during the holidays. There had been no discussion about seeing each other afterwards or anything like that. Nor, had I ever expected there to be … at least, not in the beginning. That was before anything real had developed between Ian and I. Since then, I’d just been living in the moment, not really thinking about what came next. I was simply enjoying getting to know Ian Zerlinger past the image he gave to the world, and letting him get to know me. Now that the holidays were almost over, the thought of that ending began to weigh on me.
“Ready to board?”
I blinked and looked up to see Ian standing only a few feet from me. When I didn’t immediately answer his gaze narrowed, as if he was trying to figure me out.
“Y-yes,” I pushed out, pasting that infamous phony smile on. No need to let my feelings be known right then, and pop the bubble of bliss we’d been living in the past few days. I already knew the holiday party at his brother’s wasn’t something Ian looked forward to. He’d shared with me the rift that’d occurred between his brother and himself, some years prior. And while Bruce had taken a major step back from the running of Zerlinger Beer, he was still a major influencer in the company and that seemed to piss Ian off for whatever reason.
“Let’s go,” he insisted, taking me by the hand and escorting me up the stairs alongside him, instead of allowing me to do my job as a flight attendant and greet him at the door. We had long since dispersed with the formality of my position of flight attendant, although technically I was working.
“Where are you going?” Ian questioned, confused.
“To make sure the drinks and the food for the flight are stocked properly.” I had tried to check beforehand, but Ian insisted that I wait for him to actually get on the plane.
“Sit down. You’re not working right now,” he ordered, as if his word was the final say.
I pushed out a heavy breath, rolling my eyes. I wanted to hate the macho, ‘tell me what to do’ persona of his but, if I were being honest, I enjoyed it.
“I need to give you something.”
That caught my attention and I finally, slowly began to sink down into the cream leather seat directly across from Ian. I watched as he pulled out a black box from the leather briefcase he always carried with him on flights, before retaking his seat.
“I had our driver pick this up from my jeweler in Boston before he retrieved us from the cabin.” He held the long box out to me and pulled the lid open.
I was so stunned by what was inside that I literally pushed back, against the back of my chair. It was a beautifully round cut tennis necklace. The necklace sparkled and shined as if it were winking at me.
“I thought this would look perfect on you tonight in the gold dress you’re wearing. Also, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift a little early.”
My eyes flew to Ian’s face. “Christmas gift?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Isn’t that what friends do for one another? Give each other gifts on the holidays?”
I swallowed and nodded, my eyes falling back to the necklace. “I-I didn’t get you anything,” I stated, lamely, suddenly feeling ashamed for not even thinking of getting him a gift.
“Yes, you have.”
I looked to him, his dark gaze to full of … something that had a name all its own. And if I hadn’t been so emotional at that moment, I would’ve ventured to say that it was a hell of a lot more than just friendship. But I was emotional and almost at a loss for words, so I merely said, “Thank you, Ian.”
That must’ve been all he expected because the smile that covered his face was enough to make my heartbeat increase. When he stood, removing the necklace from the box, and motioned for me to stand, so he could put it on me, my feet moved before my brain allowed me to register what was happening.
“I just wanted to see you in it,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing against the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
When he clasped the necklace together and ran his fingers around my neck to ensure it laid flat, goosebumps sprang up along the tops of my arms. Slowly, I turned to face him to give him the full view of me in the necklace.
“Stunning,” he stated, his voice strangled with some odd emotion. Then his lips were on mine, claiming them. Claiming me. He pulled me in close to his body and I threw my arms around his neck, never wanting this feeling to end.
“We’ll be ready to taxi the runway in five minutes,” the plane’s captain stated, interrupting us. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—” he began, shame coating his tone.
“No, it’s fine. We need to get going,” Ian retorted, waving the captain off. He released his arm from around my waist, and waited for me to sit and put on my seatbelt before doing the same.
Usually, Ian sent emails, read over reports, or did some other form of work while we were on the plane. But this time, there wasn’t anything having to do with Zerlinger Beer in sight. Save for the spiked eggnog that had somehow found its way into the plane’s refrigerator, among the other refreshments for the flight. Instead of working, Ian and I talked about any and everything. Just as we’d done while at the cabin. It was the shortest plane ride I’d ever remembered taking. And somehow, once we landed, I knew that things would be different between Ian and I. After all, nothing good ever lasts, right?
****
Ian
“You’re fidgeting,” Stacia admonished yet again, just as we stepped out of the town car that had brought us to my brother’s palatial home, in one of the wealthiest suburbs of Dallas. “Stop that,” she stated, swatting my hands away from my bowtie.
Any other person doing that would’ve surely pissed me off, but with Stacia it made me want to toss her over my shoulder and find the nearest door to lock us behind and not come up for air for a while. That thought alone, let me know just how crazy I was over this woman, seeing as how we’d spent most of the afternoon after our flight in bed in the hotel suite I’d booked in Dallas for the night. My main home was being renovated and wasn’t ready for guests.
“There,” she said as she finished adjusting my tie, then looking up at me with a cheeky grin. The red lipstick she wore caused me to wonder what it would look like smeared all over, from my kissing her. I then wondered if it was that new lipstick women wore that didn’t smear. Ordinarily, I’d prefer the latter, but with Stacia, nothing turned me on more than the idea of her lips swollen, lipstick smeared, nostrils flaring, and cheeks flushed from our lovemaking.
“Stop staring.” She giggled, breaking me out of my trance.
“I don’t stare.”
She immediately nodded. “That’s a lie if ever I’ve heard one. Are you ready?” she questioned, looking behind her to the huge double door in which a few other guests were passing through, then back to me.
“That’s supposed to be my line.”
“Then say it so we can go in.”
I grinned before placing a kiss to the corner of her lips. She looked absolutely divine in the long, sleeveless gold silk gown, paired with the diamond necklace I’d given her on the plane. She wore it with a pair of diamond studs she already owned. As soon as I saw the earrings, I began making plans in my head to purchase her another, larger pair. The ones she wore were nice but I knew I could find a pair that was more akin to everything she’d brought into my life in such a short period of time.
“Are you ready?” I finally asked, holding out my arm for her to wrap her hand around. When she did, I proceeded to lead us to my brother’s front door. For the first time, the apprehension I felt whenever walking into my brother’s home was diminished.
“Ian.”
I heard my name as soon as I stepped over the threshold, behind Stacia. I turned my head to the right, seeing my brother’s wife, Kelly a few feet from the door. Standing right next to her, of course, was my brother. He rarely let the woman out of his sight. Most might think it was simply because of how beautiful Kelly was, with her bright blue eyes, natural blonde locks, and well put together appearance, but it was something else.
As I glanced to my left, at Stacia on my arm, I suddenly realized what it was like to not want a woman to be out of your sight.
“Hey, little brother,” Bruce greeted, walking toward Stacia and I with his wife in tow.
“We were afraid you might not show up,” Kelly stated with a beaming smile as she pulled me into a hug, one of the few people to dare do so.
“Kelly, Bruce, this is my …” I turned to look at Stacia, and for once, I was at a loss for words. Saying she was my date didn’t nearly describe all that she was to me, but calling her my girlfriend didn’t seem appropriate given that we’d never had that discussion. Calling her a friend would be the truth but not the total truth because she was so much more than that.
“This is Stacia,” I finally managed to get out. But a frown formed on my lips as soon as the sentence was out of my mouth and I watched Stacia’s smile wobble a little and her eyelashes lower, shielding her gaze from my view.
“Pleasure to meet you, Stacia. I’m Kelly, and this is my husband, Bruce, Ian’s older brother.” Kelly managed to get all of that out while pulling Stacia in for a warm hug, the same as she’d done to me. She was a natural hugger.
“Pleasure to meet you, Stacia,” Bruce greeted, shaking Stacia’s hand.
“Thank you. You both have a beautiful home.”
“Why thank you,” Kelly answered in her southern drawl. She was Dallas born through and through. “I told Bruce it was too big but he insisted. The size does come in handy when hosting events like this.”
We made small talk for a few more minutes before Kelly managed to steal Stacia away to introduce her to a few other women who had shown up. I watched as the women walked farther and farther away from us. Most notably, I watched Stacia, not wanting to take my eyes off of her.
“You watch her almost as much as I watch over Kelly.” Bruce’s words pulled me back to the fact that he was still standing there, obviously observing me.
“Keep your eyes on your wife and off of me,” I retorted, sharply. I swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a long sip before turning back to my brother. I was surprised and annoyed to find him wearing a huge grin. For most of our lives, my brother and my relationship had been pretty contentious. We were raised not as siblings so much as adversaries. My father’s idea was that Bruce and I had to compete against one another to earn the top spot at Zerlinger Beer and Spirits. Hence, the stemming of most of our contention. However, since Bruce had met and married Kelly five years prior, he’d done almost a one-eighty, softening his exterior and even getting him to scale back his role in the company he once lived for. His wife and two children seemed to be the center of his world now, rather than running the company. It should’ve made me happy. But in that moment, it grated on my nerves like nothing else.
“Well, she’s more than just your date. Lest, you would’ve said as much. She’s not quite your girlfriend, seeing as how you didn’t say that either. So what is she to you?” Bruce asked, obviously not letting the topic die.
“She’s none of your damn business.”
At that, Bruce let out a hardy laugh and actually clapped me on the back.
I narrowed my eye on him. “Did I make a joke?”
“You might as well have. I remember saying those exact same words to you the first time you asked about Kelly.”
I inhaled and thought back to five years earlier, around the time I first remember seeing Bruce with his now-wife. I pushed out a breath when I realized he was correct. He had responded in the exact same way when I’d asked about the woman he’d brought to our company’s Christmas party. Bruce had been as possessive and tight-lipped about the woman that’d shown up on his arm that night. However, even in my inadequate understanding of relationships, I could see that something was different about whatever was going on between the two of them.
“You know, our father was wrong.”
My eye widened as I turned back to Bruce. His expression was more serious this time around. I took another sip of champagne.
“He taught us we didn’t need anything or anyone that couldn’t provide us with more power or money. That was how he lived his life, and it’s why when he died very few people had anything nice to say about him, let alone could share any loving memories of him. It was meeting Kelly that showed me life was better when you build actual relationships with others. When you learn to love and let someone love you in return.”
I gritted my teeth, hating that it was my brother saying all of this. Something in my gut was telling me it was the truth, but after more than thirty-five years of not-so-friendly sibling rivalry with Bruce, it was more than a little difficult to swallow coming from him.
“I realize I’m the last person you want to be hearing this from,” Bruce finally stated.
“So why are you telling me?” I questioned, taking the final sip of my champagne.
“Because if what you feel for this woman is anything remotely close to what I felt for my wife at the beginning of our relationship, I know you have a war going on inside of you. One you don’t have to fight.” He stepped closer, placing is arm on my shoulder, and for the first time since I could remember, I didn’t jerk away from his touch.
I stared at my brother before looking over his shoulder to Stacia who was laughing with Kelly and two other women. Something strong washed over me in that moment. I looked back to Bruce.
“For once in your life, you might be—”
“Ian, there you are,” Jamie’s anxious voice interrupted my response to Bruce.
I frowned, wondering what the hell was so urgent that she needed to interrupt the conversation so rudely for.
“My apologies, Bruce, but I must speak with Ian,” she demanded.
Bruce gave Jamie a long look before finally nodding and taking a step back. “If you need some privacy, there is a guest room down the hall, first door on the left.”
I looked at Bruce as if he’d lost his mind. I was sure whatever Jamie insisted we needed to discuss wouldn’t need to be talked about in such a private way. For some strange reason, Jamie had become more of a pest than an employee, as of late. Even once I’d informed her that I was only taking calls for emergencies during my days off before Bruce’s Christmas Eve party, she had called my office and cell phone a number of times about one thing or another. Thankfully, my assistant at the home office was able to block most of her attempts to contact me directly. The few calls she had made to my cell went directly to voicemail and I’d opted not to respond by text or email either. In all honesty, I had forgotten to respond. When spending time with Stacia alone at the cabin, it was easy to forget that a whole world existed outside of the two of us.
At that moment, Stacia looked up from the group of women she was with, directly at me. A smile creased her lips. Not the same smile she’d just given the women but a genuine one, just for me. Unfortunately, the exchange between Stacia and I was too short, due to the fact that Jamie stepped into my line of sight.
“Ian, we need to talk.”
I lowered my gaze to Jamie, gritting my teeth. “Let’s.”
I pivoted on my heels and followed the direction Bruce had given us toward the guest room. I didn’t bother to check to see if Jamie followed behind me.
****
As soon as the door closed behind her, I ripped into Jamie.
“What the hell is your problem? You have one job to do. Public relations. It’s your fucking job to make my company, and by extension me, look better to the public. I take a few days off and you’re constantly calling and up my ass, now you show up to the company Christmas party, interrupting a private conversation and demanding we talk. About what?” I screeched, causing Jamie’s eyes to widen as she took a small step back.
I took a step back as well, not intending to frighten her but she had gotten on my damn nerves. Plus, she wasn’t the woman I wanted to see at that moment. In fact, she was the woman who was obstructing my being able to see the woman I wanted to see. Therefore, Jamie needed to state whatever it was she had to say and fast.
“I just got word that we have a problem. The Collinses are threatening to pull out of the deal you made, along with our bottle maker.”
My frown deepened. She was referring to two different deals. “Says who and why?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Apparently, Nikola Collins was informed that Zerlinger Beer has a security breach. It somehow got on the wire that Zerlinger Beer was going into business with the Collinses.”
My head jutted back in surprise. That news wasn’t supposed to be made public until the following spring.
“Who knows about this? How did they find out?”
“A reporter from the Financial Times called Andre Collins’ office requesting information on the deal. It was the same with Acosta. Said they received a call from a reporter that Zerlinger was playing hardball with the product and making them look weak.”
I shook my head, confused. “A reporter? How the hell does that type of inside information come from a reporter?”
“They had to be informed by someone.”
“Obviously,” I retorted rather sarcastically, however I didn’t care in that moment. It was starting to sound like someone was setting out to deliberately destroy my company. Or at the very least, cast Zerlinger in a negative light. “How long have you known about this?”
“A few days. It’s what I was calling you about.”
“You never said—”
“Did you listen to my last voicemail?”
“No,” I admitted.
Jamie looked at me as if to say see?
Sighing, I ran a hand through the short hairs of my trimmed beard. This wasn’t making any sense. “What does the reporter know?”
“Enough. He knew that you met with Nikola Collins a few weeks back in New York at a holiday party not long after Thanksgiving. He knows you had dinner with Zerlinger’s bottle maker just a few days after that. He knew enough of the conversations you held with Nikola regarding the buyout of his subsidiary company in Canada …” Jamie trailed off.
My jaw clenched. To be provided with that type of information, whoever had called the reporters in the first place had to be someone with intimate details of Zerlinger Beer.
“That’s not all.”
I turned back to Jamie, not wanting to hear what else she had to say, but obviously needing to.
“The reporter from FT said that the person who called them demanded to be paid, as if they were some type of tabloid. When he told her he couldn’t pay her, she said fine as long as the story made it to the public so people know who the real Ian Zerlinger was.”
“Her?” I questioned.
Jamie swallowed and nodded slowly. Apparently it was a woman who called with the anonymous tips.
My mind raced, thinking of any disgruntled female employees who could be behind this. None were coming to mind.
“Ian,” Jamie called.
I thought about the administrative assistant I had fired about six months ago for incompetence. She had been caught spending too much time on social media while she was supposed to be working. But that didn’t make sense. She wasn’t high up enough within the company to know about the deals Jamie was referring to. Plus, she had been dismissed before these deals had even taken place.
“Ian,” Jamie called again.
No, it wasn’t Shelly or Suzanne, or Sharon, I couldn’t recall her name.
“Ian!”
“What?” I responded louder than intended.
“Wh-what about …” She trailed off.
“Spit it out, we don’t have all damn night,” I pressed, feeling impatient and pissed off to even have to think about this bullshit the night before Christmas.
“Stacia,” she suddenly said.
My head lunged backwards and I grew angry at the mere accusation. “Have you lost your—”
“She was there,” Jamie blurted out. “Think about it. The gala in New York, she was your date when you met up with Nikola Collins. The next night you went to dinner with the owner of the bottling company and his wife. Again, Stacia was your date. And who else with that type of access to your company’s dealings would have a personal vendetta against you?”
I scoffed. “Stacia doesn’t have a personal vendetta.”
“Are you sure about that? Remember the night of Thanksgiving? She didn’t exactly seem to be a fan of yours.”
Thinking of my initial behavior toward Stacia and of that night, I wouldn’t have been a fan of mine either.
“And you got her to agree to be your date for all these events by holding her job over her head. You know the owner of her company, personally, and all it would take is one call to get her fired from a job she’s had for years. So there was really no way for her to say no to you. You don’t think that pissed her off at least somewhat?”
That might have been the case in the beginning, but …
“And there is the personal vendetta she has against people of your stature.”
“What do you mean?”
“I suspected Stacia could be behind all of this, so I made a few phone calls. Had her investigated. Some friends of hers from Connecticut say she has always said how rich people were evil and deserved to be knocked off their high horses. They say she hated her stepfather and anyone like him.”
I squinted in Jamie’s direction. She was correct that Stacia didn’t much care for her stepfather. And yes, that could sour her mood on those of us that are well-to-do, or of that world, I suppose.
“It’s why she took the job as a flight attendant with a private airline. She wanted to come into contact with wealthier men to seduce and try to destroy them in whatever way she could. I spoke with another man it happened to.”
“Who?” I asked with sudden urgency.
“Bryant Jones. He was a client of the airline, which was where he came into contact with Stacia. They had an affair. He shared some things with her, and before you know it, his business is tanking. I have his number if you want to speak with him.” Jamie moved forward, thrusting her cell phone in my face. “I figured you might have a hard time believing me so I spoke with Bryant myself and he is more than eager to talk with you.”
Gritting my teeth I pondered Jamie’s words for a long while. What she was saying didn’t make sense, but somehow it did make sense. Stacia was the only woman with such high access to me, and given the way things started and her background with her family, one could surmise that she did have a motive to see me humiliated.
Reluctantly, I took the phone from Jamie’s hand and pressed the number she’d pulled up from her contact list. A deep, male voice answered on the third ring.
“Is this Bryant Jones?” I demanded.
“Yes. Ian Zerlinger?”
“Yes.”
“Jamie said you might be calling from her phone.”
“Then tell me what you told her.”
I listened intently a Bryant told me a story that had me seeing red and also felt like someone was taking a knife and slicing out my own heart with each word he spoke.