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Drake

 

 

 

That night I attended a fundraiser for one of the charities that Blackwell Industries supported. After my delightful appointment with Dr. Tao, I wasn’t feeling up for people. Except I couldn’t cancel last minute because I was the one who had to deliver the keynote speech.

Smile plastered on my face, I shook hands and made small talk with a blur of faces.

Through the crowd, I spotted Jared Wright, a blond-haired snake in a suit. Instantly my shoulders tightened, my lip curled up. Trust that fucker to be here. He probably had a litany of heckles ready for when I got on stage.

He caught me glaring and lifted his glass in a mock toast, a smug grin on his face, daring me to go over there and beat him to a pulp for the slimy trick he pulled last month, swiping the Mercer deal right out of my palm. I’d win, too. I worked out as hard as I worked. A weights room and shower adjoined my office via a connecting door. Exercise kept me sane. At least, until today. My hands clenched into fists as Jared’s blood splattered all over my imagination.

 

Billionaire Drake Blackwell beats long-time rival, Jared Wright, half to death at a charity function

 

Wouldn’t that make a nice headline for the papers?

“What are you looking at?” James asked me as he stepped into my line of sight, breaking through my violent daydream.

I turned my attention to James Firestone. I hadn’t seen James in, well, it must have been several months. Probably at the last fundraiser. Here he was, looking like he’d spent a month in a spa—rosy cheeks, bright eyes, animated hands, making him look at least ten years younger. The bastard was even smiling.

But that’s not what caught my attention. On his arm was one of the most stunning creatures I had ever seen: delicate limbs like porcelain in a long, shimmering rose-colored gown matching her marshmallow mouth, dark slit eyes that sparkled with intelligence. “And who is this?” I asked, curiosity and envy eating me alive.

James turned to the wide-eyed beauty. “This is Satsumi.” His eyes flashed. “My wife.”

“Your wife?” Two words stuffed with unasked questions.

James answered none of them. “Satsumi, this is Mr. Blackwell, one of the few men in this room who, dare I say it, is richer than me.” He let out a boisterous laugh.

Satsumi bowed her dainty head. “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Likewise.”

“I was just saying to James,” Satsumi said, “how interesting your speech was.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “You make a good point about free higher education and the impact it would have on Americans living below the poverty line.”

I raised my eyebrow. “You actually listened to my speech?”

“Well,” she said with a glint in her eye, “somebody had to.”

I let out a laugh. The three of us debated the topic until Satsumi excused herself to go the bathroom.

When she was out of earshot, I turned to James. “She is a find, isn’t she?”

“Indeed.”

“Where did you meet her?”

He paused. “Through a mutual friend.”

“Last time I saw you, you swore up and down that you weren’t giving in to your grandfather’s will stipulations.”

“Well, that was before…”

“I didn’t think women like her existed. She’s stunning, exotic and dear God, those eyes. They look like they’re drilling right into you. She’s intelligent, funny and she isn’t intimidated by the Plastic Pack.” I glanced over to the gaggle of twenty-something trust-funders and shuddered. I turned back to James. “Her only downfall is that she chose you as a husband.”

He laughed and I caught the twinkle in his eye. There was something he wasn’t telling me. “Careful, Drake, if I wasn’t so sure you had no heart I’d say you were half in love with her already.”

“I have a heart.” Apparently, it’d kill me one day. “Just not for dodgy car salesmen like you.”

James snorted. “A Bugatti is not just a car.”

“I know. You sold me two already.”

“Did I? Looking for a third? Perhaps one for your latest lady friend. How is the lovely…what was her name again? Katie? Kitty?”

I flinched when I thought of Kristie. “Let’s not talk about her.”

“Gold digger?”

I made a face. “That. As well as being insipid and culturally ignorant.”

“You’re too hard on them, Drake.”

“She thought Jackson Pollock was an actor.”

“Oh.”

“And Salvador Dali was a pop band.”

James chuckled into his whiskey before taking a large gulp and smacking his lips. “Welcome to LA,” he said, waving his arms with a flourish as if he were a ringmaster in a circus.

Welcome to LA. I found myself gazing across the ballroom to where Satsumi was floating her way back through the crowd.

James seemed to read the envy on my face. “Are you even ready to settle down?”

“I don’t know.” I tore my gaze away from her. Dr. Tao’s words echoed in my mind again. Slow down. Take some time off. Spend time with the ones you love.

“Marriage might do you good. I thoroughly recommend it. Even Clooney got married.”

“Find me another Satsumi and I might consider it.”

As Satsumi approached us, her sweetheart face smiling and radiant, her eyes only on James, he slipped a card into my hand and whispered, “Let’s talk.”