CHAPTER ONE

 

JAXSON

 

 

The sound of my alarm jolts me awake. I open my eyes to the first rays of sunlight peeking through the silk damask drapes covering my bedroom windows. I’d like nothing better than to hit the snooze button, take a day off, sink back under the covers, and drown myself in reverie, but I have several important clients coming into the office today. There’s no rest for the weary and the wicked never sleep, not in my business. Yet, as my thirty-seventh birthday draws nearer, I find myself reflecting more and more on the things I haven’t accomplished in my life, rather than the ones I have. I know I have much to be thankful for but one thing I don’t have, is time to contemplate my mistakes…and I’ve made many. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for regrets later. 

As I mentally recount my schedule for the day, my cell phone vibrates on the nightstand. I look at the display and quickly answer. “Yes, Nora.”

“Mr. Montgomery, I hate to disturb you so early, but you need to get to the office as soon as possible. Ralph Martino is here. He’s not on your calendar for this morning and doesn’t have an appointment until next week. I tried to explain you have no openings today, but he insists on seeing you. And Mr. Montgomery, he’s not happy.”

I sit up on the side of my king size bed and drag my hand over my face in frustration. Ralph Martino has a serious but somewhat delicate problem requiring my rather unique services. I met with him last week and thought we’d reached an understanding. I’m not sure what stunt he’s pulled to rattle Nora but I know he’s done something. Nora Abrams has been my personal assistant for five years and a damn good one who is usually cool, calm, and collected. Though judging from her current tone, Martino is attempting to bully my assistant. Obviously, the man doesn’t understand the meaning of patient or discreet

“Thank you, Nora. I’ll be there shortly,” I say, ending the call.

After taking a quick shower and dressing in my custom-made suit, I’m happy to find the enticing aroma of hot coffee wafting into my senses. I quickly make my way to the kitchen where Lori is finishing up a cheese and vegetable frittata and several thick slices of fried bacon. Nothing like eggs and divine swine in the morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Montgomery. I have your coffee and usual breakfast prepared. Is there anything else you require?”

“Thank you, Lori. Everything looks delicious as usual. Could you please call Randal and make sure he’s waiting downstairs? I’ll be leaving for the office as soon as I finish eating.”

The day I hired Lori Lamont was, indeed, a fortuitous day. She came into my life almost ten years ago. I knew very little about her when she applied for the position, other than she was in her mid-forties at the time, had just lost her husband and lived alone. She had no real job experience and had never worked outside the home, but my grandmother spoke highly of her. In fact, it was my grandmother who recommended her. Lori and her husband never had children, but Lori dotes on me like a son. Not once have I ever regretted hiring her. She’s not only a great cook and housekeeper but also seems to understand and anticipate my needs. With my busy schedule, I don’t know how I’d survive without her. 

I love living in New York City. This penthouse is only one of many properties I own across the globe, but it’s probably my favorite. What person in their right mind wouldn’t enjoy living in a lavish home located on the top floor of prime real estate in Manhattan with a magnificent view of Central Park and the New York City skyline, right? It’s spacious, luxurious with all the amenities including excellent security, and only a half hour drive from my office – usually, depending on the traffic.

I quickly finish my meal and head for the elevator. Thankfully, my car and driver are already waiting outside.

“Good morning, sir,” Randal greets me formally as he opens the back door to my town car.

“Good morning, Randal. I’m in a bit of a rush this morning. I need to get to the office as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir. Mrs. Lamont called earlier, so I’ve already checked the traffic reports and everything looks clear.”

“Thank you, Randal,” I reply, sliding into the backseat.

Marcus Randal is another of my loyal employees, but I also consider him a friend. He and I have been through quite a few dicey situations together. Although I’ve asked him repeatedly to address me as Jax, he still refuses to call me anything other than Mr. Montgomery. And for some reason, unknown to me, he prefers to be called by his surname rather than Marcus, possibly because of his military background. He’s retired Army Special Forces, former Green Berets, and has been with me almost as long as Lori. He’s fifty-five and never been married. I’m 6’2” and in pretty good shape. I try to work out at least three to four times a week, but Randal is even taller than me and built like a pro-wrestler with huge, bulky muscles. If it weren’t for his buzz-cut grey hair, we could almost pass for the same age. I know, for a fact, Randal can handle himself in any situation. I’ll be the first to admit some of my clients are predisposed to violence, oftentimes making my life dangerous. I trained in several forms of self-defense and can handle myself fairly well, but I need someone I know will have my back. Randal has proved many times he’s more than capable of handling the job.

I learned a long time ago, surrounding yourself with capable employees goes a long way to ensuring your own success. My employees understand the two things I value, above all else, is loyalty and dedication. And if they pass muster, I reward them with commensurate salaries and benefits they could never earn anywhere else. I’ve worked long and hard to make Montgomery Incorporated successful, and my employees have been an important factor in that success. My company is one of the most prestigious public relations firms in the world with my corporate headquarters located in downtown Manhattan. I don’t own the building but I lease the entire top floor. With my office positioned on the eighty-fifth floor, I have one of the best views in New York City. I’m not bragging, folks; I’m just stating the facts. Usually, it takes about thirty minutes to make the trip from my penthouse, but thankfully the traffic isn’t as heavy this early in the morning, and the drive is almost peaceful. By the time we arrive, I’ve already read through most of my emails and messages.

I step out of the elevator and find Nora waiting. She immediately stands and rushes to my side, looking relieved to see me. I know Martino can be intimidating, but nothing I can’t handle. I just don’t like him trying to bully Nora.

“Good morning, sir.  Mr. Martino was insistent he wait in your office. I’m so sorry. I tried to stop him but…”

“It’s fine, Nora. I’ll handle Martino,” I interrupt, trying to reassure her. But judging from her expression, Nora is worried I’ll blame her for Martino’s disrespectful behavior. I may be guilty of many things but placing blame where it doesn’t belong isn’t one of them.

I walk into my office and sit down behind my desk, carefully keeping my demeanor and expression neutral. I’ve learned when dealing with individuals like Martino, it’s best not to show any emotion, but he’ll soon discover I demand respect, always.

Martino stands and walks to the front of my desk, nervously pacing back and forth. “Jax, you promised -”

“We’re not discussing anything I promised until we come to an understanding,” I state, quickly cutting him off.

“Understanding?” He stops and turns to face me with a frown.

“Yes, an understanding, Martino. If you ever come to my office again, with or without an appointment, making demands and attempting to intimidate my employees, our agreement will be void, my services will cease, our association will come to an end, and I will no longer be your fixer. And another thing, never barge into my office again, unless I’m here to give permission. If you can accept these conditions and follow my instructions, then I will consider keeping you as a client.” My eyes remain locked with his, my expression grave, my voice calm, and my resolve determined. Most people would never dare talk to Martino as I have. It could be dangerous. I’ve just thrown down the gauntlet to a known criminal and a man who, most likely, is carrying a concealed weapon. But I’m serious, dead serious. I won’t tolerate his interference or his threats.

Have I lost my mind?

Probably, but I’m still serious. I can afford to be. To the majority of my clients, my business persona is public relations with a squeaky-clean image. But to some, my job is more complicated and my services a little more extensive and complex. They call me ‘The Fixer’. I solve problems, personal or professional. Not to oversimplify, but basically my job is to remove the obstacles in your life and ‘fix’ your problems. I’m the best in the world and have satisfied clients across the globe who can attest to my claim.

Need your image improved? I can polish it right up. Need a little damage control because an oil spill is driving down the price of your stock? No problem. Need a headhunter to find new talent or help negotiate a new contract? I’m your man. Has your team’s star athlete been caught partying a little too hard? I’ll straighten him right out. A skeleton in your closet threatening your happy life? I can make sure it never sees the light of day. A few drunken hookups threatening your political career? Say the word and they never happened. Caught with your pants down, figuratively or literally, and your wife is trying to take you to the cleaners? My personal favorite. Need a jury to rule in your favor? I can get it done. Need something to disappear? Absolutely, my specialty. I’m the king of recycling and waste disposal, and I’m not talking about the garbage. I can handle it all… for a hefty fee, of course. I’m a full-service provider. I haven’t been able to work the same magic on my own life, but that’s about to change. However, I am the one man you don’t want as your enemy.

Martino tilts his head slightly and stares at me intently, then nods in agreement. “Okay, Jax, whatever you say.”

“As I told you in our previous meeting, I already have someone dealing with the witness in your case, but you need to be patient, Ralph.”

“Jax, I don’t want to go to jail, and I’m willing to pay any price,” Martino declares worriedly, resuming his pacing.

“Oh, you’ll definitely pay. Have no worries about that, but now I have several other pressing matters which need my attention.” I look down at my laptop, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave.

He stops and turns toward the door, then looks back over his shoulder. “Very well, Jax. I just needed your assurance that everything was being handled. Thanks.”

“I’ll send you a bill as soon as things are wrapped up, Ralph,” I add as he walks out the door.

My day continues with back to back meetings and a quick lunch at my desk. It’s been busy but nothing crucial until I receive a call from Logan Hunt. Logan is more than just an employee. We met our freshman year at Columbia. He was my roommate, sidekick, and always willing wingman in college. We’ve been friends for almost twenty years. Logan has a brilliant mind. He’s a tech genius, and the best computer forensic expert in the country. He’s also a crackerjack security analyst and can ferret out anything about anyone. He’s the perfect combination of Steve Jobs, Mike Hammer, and James Bond. Don’t tell him I said that. It’ll definitely go to his head. He’s my go-to guy for everything and has an office down the hall from mine. But for the last several months, Logan has been keeping a watchful eye on my pet project, my prey. He gets my undivided attention after informing me ‘she’ is scheduled to come into the city for a few weeks to organize her annual Lupus Foundation event.

Who is ‘she’? Well, before I answer that question, let me give you a little backstory. I’m not deliberately trying to be vague, but it’s a complicated story, and I’m keeping my cards close to my vest. I’m not ready to reveal my hand, at least not yet.

I’ve been patient for ten long years, with the last two spent secretly watching, preparing, and waiting for the perfect opportunity to approach her. At this point, I probably know more about this woman than her own family. In fact, I’m betting all my cards on it. My plan is in place, the game is in play, and I finally have the means to insinuate myself into her life and gain her trust.

I’m not an evil person, not really. Occasionally, I do bad things, but it’s always for the greater good, namely me or my clients. Admittedly, I’m not Mother Teresa, but I do give to charities and those less fortunate all the time. My philosophy is simple. I believe in karma. You know, all that ‘what goes around, comes around’ bullshit, and an eye for an eye like it says in the Bible. Sometimes it’s the only way to heal.

I don’t think about Sam every waking moment like I did for years, but my heart still stops every time I do. I know she’s gone and nothing I do can ever bring her back, but she was the only person that loved me unconditionally. She understood and accepted the real me, with no judgements and no reservations. I should have protected her, but I didn’t… I couldn’t, not then. But now, I can try to make it right. I’m the only one who can do this, and I refuse to fail her again. I fix problems for everyone else, so I should be able to fix my own.

Every day I work with some of the most well-known names on the planet, famous and infamous alike, solving their problems and making them disappear. My client list includes pop stars, movie stars, professional athletes, millionaires, billionaires, and politicians. Hell, I’ve even worked for princes, kings, lords, dukes, and several sheiks. And yes, that also includes criminals, the Mafia and the Bratva. I don’t play favorites, and I’ve always delivered… except once. But it’s time to even the score and make it right. I’m known as “The Fixer” and now it’s time to fix my own problem, the one that began ten years ago and has haunted me every day since. I’m sure you’ve heard the expression: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Well, I plan to keep my enemies real close. I won’t allow anything to get in my way, and this woman is the instrument of my revenge.

So, to answer your question, ‘she’ is Silvia Demetri. And she will be the pawn that captures the opposing king.

***

I’ve been studying the itinerary for Silvia Demetri that Logan delivered several days ago. Silvia doesn’t live in New York City full time, but she does own a penthouse in Soho. She comes to the city frequently for business and pleasure. Apparently, she’s some kind humanitarian, like a good Samaritan, and spends most of her time raising money for several charities. She even has an office near her penthouse.

If this broad has any vices, Logan couldn’t find them, but she does love specialty coffee and there’s a quaint, little shop near her penthouse she frequents daily when she’s in town. Today is Saturday and according to her calendar, Silvia is scheduled to arrive early this morning. No doubt, her first stop will be her favorite coffee shop. And wouldn’t you just know it, I also enjoy specialty coffee, and since it’s Saturday, I’ve made plans to visit the same little shop for a delicious cup of java.

I enter the shop around seven, shortly before she’s due to arrive in town. Fortunately, business is slow this early on the weekend, so I purchase my coffee and snag a seat at a table in the back with a view of the door, then take out my phone to catch up on the morning news.

As I finish a scathing article about another political scandal in Washington, I hear the bell above the door tinkling loudly. I look over the rim of my cup and see her at the door as she enters the shop, momentarily pausing to inhale the enticing aroma of fresh coffee.

I feel my heart lurch in my chest. My reaction is immediate and visceral. Her pictures don’t even begin to do her justice. Silvia Demetri is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, and believe me when I say, I’ve seen plenty of attractive women. All the pictures in my file show her hair worn up in a sleek sophisticated chignon, but this morning she’s left her silky brunette locks down, flowing in thick waves over her shoulders and down her back, almost reaching her waist. She has smooth, flawless, ivory skin and looks much younger than her thirty-five years. Her face is a classic oval with a small pert nose, large, soft-brown eyes infused with specks of gold, and plump kissable lips. Whoa, where’d that come from? Down, boy. Her personal information confirms her height to be 5’6”, but what it doesn’t reveal are the killer long legs, delicious curves, and luscious heart-shape ass hiding underneath her designer sweater and jeans. Damn, this woman is hot and built exactly the way I like my women.

She walks to the counter and places her order with the lowest and most sultry voice I’ve ever heard. It’s immediately apparent that Silvia Demetri is a woman who is more than just naturally beautiful. She’s elegant, sophisticated, and refined, her every move confident and graceful. I can’t take my eyes off her.

Almost as if she knows someone is staring, she slowly turns and meets my gaze. Our eyes lock, but rather than the usual simpering, flirty laugh I receive from most women, she rolls her eyes and turns back around. For the first time in my entire life, I have been dismissed and effectively ignored by a woman.

Oh no, she didn’t!

I quickly rise from my seat and make my move. When I get to the counter, Silvia is taking money from her purse to pay for her coffee, but I beat her to the punch and drop a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.

“Excuse me, but what do you think you’re doing?” she demands sternly, her cheeks flushing a lovely pink. At 6’2”, I tower over her shorter frame, but she’s not intimidated at all.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m buying a cup of coffee for a beautiful woman.” I flash her a charming grin and look down into her hypnotic eyes. Good god, her eyes are now a dark golden honey color. They’re even more stunning up close.

“That won’t be necessary. I have my own money,” she declares firmly, trying to force the clerk to relinquish his hold on my money and take hers. She has no idea who she’s dealing with, but she’s fighting a losing battle. I always get my way.

“Yes, I’m sure you do. But how else am I to get your attention?” I tease, waggling my brows. That ought to do it. Women simply can’t resist my charm.

“I don’t have time for games, sir.” Well, make that most women. I guess I’ll try the direct approach.

“Great, neither do I. But I do like it when you call me sir. Now, do you have a few moments to sit and have coffee with me?”

“Why?” Silvia asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Why? Damn, that’s a first. The only words I usually hear from a woman’s mouth is yes, oh god, and please don’t stop. It’s also a loaded question, one I can’t really answer, but I have to say something.

“Because, maybe, if you have coffee with me, you’ll be kind enough to give me your name,” I answer boldly. That sounded good, right? It may not be the whole truth but it’s true, nonetheless.

There it is, a small smile breaks free, and I can’t help but grin back.

“Your smile is gorgeous… Look, I promise it’s only coffee and after five minutes, if you think I’m a total asshole, then there’s nothing lost but a few moments of your time. At least, you’ll have something to talk about with your friends.” I grin meekly, holding my hands up and spreading my fingers in a gesture of surrender.

“Fine. Five minutes and that’s it. I have a lot to get done this morning.” She shakes her head slightly and looks up at me through dark, lush lashes, her brown eyes sparkling with mirth.

Fuck me. This is going to be much more difficult than I thought!

Silvia Demetri may be a beautiful woman, but she’s also the daughter and sister of two very powerful men. I cannot allow her looks to distract me.

I step to the side and allow her to move in front of me, then placing my hand on her lower back, I guide her to my table. The smell of her perfume envelops me, a light floral fragrance with an enticing hint of vanilla. Delicious. She stops and remains standing, waiting for me to seat her. One thing for sure, she’s well trained on how a man should treat a lady.

I pull out her chair and she gracefully sits, then places her coffee on top of the table, drawing my attention to her small, delicate hands, slender fingers, and neatly french-manicured nails. I unbutton my suit and casually drop into the seat across from her. Now that I finally have Silvia here, I can only hope she’ll be receptive to my advances.

“Thank you for having coffee with me. My name is Jaxson, but my friends call me Jax. You’re welcome to use either name you wish.” I sit back and flash her another smile

“I’m Silvia,” she replies simply, picking up her coffee and taking a slow sip, then looking around the shop almost as if she’s bored.

That’s it? She’s certainly not giving me much to work with here. Most women fall all over themselves to get my attention, with no effort at all on my part. But Silvia Demetri has no intention of making this easy. It’s time to take out the big guns.

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, Silvia.” Bam! That line works on all women, right?

“What kind of game are you playing, Jaxson? If that’s even your real name. I’m not some naïve young girl, so let’s just cut to the chase. What do you want?” Her eyes dart to mine and narrow suspiciously. Damn, I’m a little stunned. I’m running out of ammunition.

“Silvia, I assure you I’m not playing any games. Though, you do look young and you’re certainly very beautiful, I don’t think you’re naïve. But I must admit, I’m a little offended. I’m not some young punk trying to get into your panties. I’m sincerely trying to get to know you. If you allow me to call you, maybe even take you on a date, you’ll see I’m more than just a good-looking guy.” This woman has me fumbling around like some inexperienced teenage boy.

Her gaze softens and she smiles, then shakes her head as she removes a pen and small notepad from her purse. She writes down a phone number, tears off the paper, and hands it across the table.

“God, I hope this isn’t a mistake,” she whispers, almost as if she’s speaking to herself.

“Silvia, it’s not a mistake. I just hope you’ll give me a chance.” I decide to go for broke and make a risky move by placing my hand gently over her much smaller one resting on the table. Her skin is warm and soft, and somehow, the gesture feels natural. Surprisingly, she doesn’t jerk away. I’m making progress. 

“I…uh…I have to go, Jaxson,” she says nervously, pushing away from the table. I quickly stand and offer her my hand.

“I’ll be calling soon, Silvia.” She takes my hand and stands. As she walks to the door, she pauses and looks over her shoulder.

“I do hope so, Jaxson,” she admits softly and walks out the door.

The sweetest five words I’ve heard in a very long time, and they hit me like a punch to the gut. I can only stand and stare, completely mesmerized by Silvia Demetri. 

I button my coat and stride confidently to the door. I casually glance outside, making sure Silvia has gone, then carefully cross the busy street where my car and driver are waiting. Silvia Demetri may be playing hard to get, but I know she’s interested. I can’t help but gloat as I recall her words, ‘I do hope so, Jaxson’. Oh yes, I definitely plan to call her… and very soon. 

Randal sees me crossing the street and quickly steps out of the car. He opens my door and asks, “Mr. Montgomery, where would you like to go?”

“Take me to the office, Randal.” It may be the weekend, but business doesn’t stop just because it’s Saturday.

“Yes sir,” Randal replies, closing the door and starting the car.

The traffic in New York City is brutal today, making our commute long and tedious. I try to relax, but my thoughts spin chaotically in my mind. I take out the small piece of paper and stare down at the number written in an elegant scrawl. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I relish my small triumph. I may not have won the war, at least not yet, but I did win the first battle. Okay, maybe it was only a small skirmish. It’s still a victory, nonetheless.

I’m so absorbed in my ruminations, I don’t even realize we’ve arrived at the office until Randal opens my door. I take a deep breath and channel my professional demeanor. I walk past security and into my private elevator. I wipe my mind of all thoughts of Silvia Demetri. It’s time to change hats and become the man my employees know as ‘The Fixer’.

The door opens and I step through the empty reception area but see Nora walking toward me.

“Good morning, Nora”

“Good morning, sir. I placed all the files you requested on your desk.”

“Thank, you. It looks like we have the place to ourselves today. I really appreciate you coming in on a Saturday. I’m not sure what I would do without you.”

And I mean every word. I know how lucky I am to have Nora Abrams as an employee. She’s been my personal assistant for five years but before hiring her, not a single person made it over six months, and I tried both males and females. I’m not a bad or unfair employer, but I am a demanding one. It’s difficult to find dedicated employees who are intelligent, competent, willing to go the extra mile, and never complain about coming into the office on weekends or holidays. But Nora is the epitome of the perfect employee. She’s always professional, on time, and ready to work with a take-charge, no-bullshit attitude. Like I said, perfect employee. Unlike Randal and Lori, Nora is happily married, and has been for the last twenty years. I’ve met her husband, Hal. He’s a smart man, a merger and acquisitions attorney, and a real nice guy who seems to worship the ground Nora walks on. They don’t have any children. I’m not sure if it was a deliberate decision, but Nora is in her mid-forties, so I highly doubt kids are in her future. Regardless, it works in my favor.

“Oh, you’re very welcome, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me, but I’m sure you would do fine.”

I walk into my office and take a seat behind my desk, preparing to start on the Martino case. As I turn on my laptop, my cell phone rings. I hit the answer button and bark into the speaker.

“Montgomery here.”

“Hi, Jax. How are you this morning?” a familiar female voice asks cheerfully.

“Good morning, Blair. It’s always good to hear from you and I’m having a great day. How about you?”

Now, don’t jump to conclusions. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that at all. Blair Stephanov isn’t my girlfriend, but she is a friend and has been since we were children. Her family knew my family, and we saw each other a lot growing up. We tried dating a few times, but it didn’t work for either of us, so we just remained friends. I’m not really a relationship kind of guy. Why settle for one woman when you can have every woman? Does that sound a little conceited? Definitely. I’m a handsome guy and a total womanizer, ladies’ man, skirt-chaser, stud, ladykiller, horndog, and a few other unflattering names I’d rather not repeat. But hey, it is what it is.

“I’m good, Jax. I have some shopping to do and will be in your area today. Would you like to grab lunch?”

It’s been pretty darn busy lately, so I’ve been ordering in every day and eating at my desk. It’d be nice to have lunch with a friend for a change.

“Thanks, Blair. I’d love to take you up on your offer. Where would you like to meet?”

“If it’s okay, I’ll just drop by your office, and we can take your car. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll even let you choose the restaurant. We can enjoy a good meal and catch up. You can tell me all about your day. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan. See ya, sweetheart.” I end the call and start searching the Martino file for the number of a contact in California. I need to make an important call so I can wrap up this case as soon as possible, giving me more time to dedicate to my new project, Silvia Demetri.

Which reminds me… I need to decide where I want to take Silvia for our date. Am I putting the cart before the horse? Possibly, but not likely. I know she will say yes. I just wish it was Silvia I was having lunch with today.