Christmas Billionaire Read online

  “I hope not. He never was like his father,” I offered, wondering if there was a possibility that I could help him become the person he truly wanted to be instead of becoming like his father.

  However, I didn’t dare let on that was what I was thinking.

  “Me too. Especially because, in a lot of ways, I think that his father’s coldness and apathy does a disservice to the company. I think that if Dexter were to truly have some say, he could revolutionize a lot of things that his father wouldn’t think about pursuing.”

  “Why don’t you say something to him?”

  “Because, unfortunately, after all these years, I’ve learned basically what I can try to tell my partner and what I can’t. The majority of what I feel should be said, if I haven’t said it, it is because I am sure he won’t listen. One of the most pressing things is more personal but probably more important than anything. I don’t think he should be so demanding of Dexter. His father is always threatening his job and acting as though Dexter doesn’t work hard but he does,” pausing for a moment, my father sighed, “I just hope that Mr. Myers realizes what he is doing before it’s too late.”

  “Me too,” I offered genuinely, though my main concern was helping Dexter to come into his own instead of staying in the shadow of his father and eventually becoming him.

  Chapter 13

  Dexter

  It was a long, arduous day, but I didn’t quite realize how early I had gone to bed or how soundly I had slept until I woke up the next morning.

  Monday was never as welcomed as the day after the anniversary of my mother’s death, but thankfully that was not what was readily on my mind.

  Although I still lamented how I had acted with my father and was angered by my failure to find the right words to open the appropriate dialogue, that was not the heaviest lament on my mind.

  Instead, I found that what was weighing heaviest on my mind was the idea that I was running out of time to see Mazie before my plane left on Thursday.

  It was strange because I knew I wasn’t going to be gone forever, but I still needed to see her before I left.

  Relax, I told myself, shaking my head at the urgency I felt. You’re not a chick, Dex; she’s just a girl.

  With that in mind, I sat up, slunk out of bed and into the kitchen to make breakfast. I was still tired, but I figured that was mostly because of the strange, depressing events that had taken place the day before.

  When I made it to the kitchen, I threw together some breakfast before going to get ready for work.

  The thought of the presentation also weighed heavily on my mind, and I wanted to make sure I got it right. This was a big deal, not only for me and for my career, but also for the company.

  However, I knew I was ready. I had spoken to Mr. Wilson plenty of times before and was fairly certain that I knew how to get this to work. I knew what he wanted, and I was sure this marketing firm could get it for him.

  With my plan, I was sure his company was going to expand far beyond even his wildest expectations. Yet, it wasn’t overly complicated, so he would be able to easily understand and follow the progression of the plan.

  It was genius, if I did say so myself, and I was ready to deliver it in the best possible manner.

  However, when I walked into the office that day, I didn’t even stop to flirt with the secretary. My mind was too jumbled with all the different issues going on inside my mind.

  After all, despite the idea, which I thought was great, there was still the chance that I could blow it, and the deal would go up in flames.

  I doubted that would happen because I had worked harder on this deal than I had on anything I had ever done and I knew I was good at what my job, despite what my father said. I knew what to do to make it happen, and I was eager to close the deal.

  Yet, I knew that if I didn’t straighten out my head and get Mazie off my mind, the chances of me screwing up this deal were exponentially larger.

  Simple…just ask her out to dinner. I thought as I opened the door to my office.

  As I sat down at my desk, leaving the door open, I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen, wondering if I should text Mazie.

  Although, before I could formulate a proper message in my mind, there was a knock at the door. I looked up to see Brock, one of the better employees standing in my doorway.

  “Hey, Brock! Come in,” I offered, waving him toward me.

  Brock was a kiss-ass, and I had my suspicions about him being a little too into office politics, never missing an opportunity to run a coworker through with what might be idle chatter. He was a pain in the ass and had his crooked nose in everything, but he was intelligent and knew how to get shit done, so I put up with him.

  “Hi, Dex. Did I catch you in the middle of something?” he asked, eyeing my phone, still clasped in my hand.

  “Me? No! You’re good. How can I help you?” I replied, purposefully flipping my phone over, face-down on the desk so that he couldn’t read anything on my screen.

  “I won’t take up a lot of your time; I just wanted to tell you what a great job I think you did on the presentation.”

  At first, I wondered if he was trying to sabotage me for some reason, but since he wanted the company to do well so that he could rise up the ranks, it didn’t make sense that he would want this to fail.

  It wasn’t like he caught me getting head under my desk or anything that usually wet his rat-whistle.

  So, after considering this momentarily, I decided it was likely a genuine compliment.

  “Thanks,” I replied, “Did you think that the timetable was too slow…too hurried?”

  “No. I thought it made sense. I’ve been considering that company myself, and from what I can tell, that plan progresses at the right pace for a company that large and that public.”

  “Great,” I replied, hoping to God he wasn’t trying to size up my seat.

  He was a good employee, sure, but if he even thought about trying to sabotage my job, the little weasel would be out of the street so fast his head would spin.

  “Honestly, Dexter, I was really impressed.”

  “Thanks, Brock. Is there anything else?”

  “Oh…no. That’s all I had to say,” he offered as he got the hint and stood up.

  “Well, thanks. I hope I get the deal. It would be good for everyone.”

  “I understand that, Sir, and I appreciate you taking the time,” he offered as he walked out, waving to me before disappearing down the hall.

  I rolled my eyes when I was sure he had left, but despite who it was coming from and the fact that I could see the brown on his nose from a mile away, the reassurance was nice.

  At least it gave me the idea that I hadn’t completely lost my mind.

  Still, as soon as I was certain I was alone, I picked up my phone again and stared at the screen as my thoughts returned to Mazie.

  Dammit! I thought as I tried to decipher exactly what I should say to her.

  For the next few minutes, I started a couple of texts but quickly decided against writing them, knowing that anything I said simply didn’t feel right. I wanted to ask her out on another date without it sounding urgent. I wanted it to sound fluid and easy, but since I continued to pine over every detail of the text I was sending her, the process was anything but.

  I had no clue why it was so difficult, except for the fact that I didn’t want to screw it up, but even still, it shouldn’t be that hard.

  After all, I get people to do what I want them to do for a living. I should be able to craft a compelling second-date text in my sleep by this point and normal I could.

  What bothered me is that this didn’t feel like any old second date or booty call. I didn’t want it to be serious but that was the only way I could think about it, and that scared the hell out of me.

  I was brought out of my thoughts again by the feeling of eyes peering at me, and I carefully looked up, instinctively flipping my phone over on my desk again, before I was sure anyone was even
there.

  My father was walking into my office though, so I was happy he didn’t get a chance to see who I was thinking of texting.

  Besides, the look on my father’s face and the presence of him in my office to begin with told me that there was an issue.

  Mentally, I rolled my eyes.

  Now what? I thought, but forced myself to be cheery.

  “Good morning,” I insisted as he stood in front of my desk, “What can I do for you, Dad?”

  “How is everything going on the Wilson deal?”

  “Things are going well, Dad. They’re going extremely well, actually. I sent my itinerary to you the other day. My plans haven’t changed. I’m leaving Thursday morning for my afternoon meeting, and I should be back no later than Friday morning. If all goes exceptionally well, I will be back Thursday evening.”

  “Do you have everything together for the presentation?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I assured him, “And I even sent it out to a few of our agents for review and everyone seems to think this is a good plan.”

  “Excellent. Send a finished copy to me, along with what you plan to say, and I will tweak it as necessary. This is a big client, and I think that I should handle it myself.”

  “What?” I demanded after a moment of confusion, “Are you saying that you are going to go to the meeting in my place?”

  I couldn’t believe it. Of course, I wasn’t stupid. That was exactly what he was saying, but I couldn’t believe it.

  How could he do this to me? I wondered, even though, unfortunately, it didn’t take a great leap to comprehend that answer. I should've known that he would always be trying his best to overshadow me. For whatever reason, he never wanted me to have a moment to shine. I was supposed to be his heir and his protégée, and yet he treated me as though I was completely unworthy.

  I know, I might not be the best son or the best marketer, but I believed in the company, and I did a damn good job.

  Of course, I said none of this to him.

  “Why, yes. We can’t have you going and screwing it up,” my father answered in a bitterly sardonic tone, as though my failure was inevitable.

  My jaw hinged, agape at his blatant lack of faith in me as my eyes narrowed. However, I sat back in my chair and bit my tongue, not sure how to respond to his insolence and greed.

  I knew he was a bastard, but I thought after all the work I had put into this project, all the hours I had spent building a relationship with this company, that he would at least let me reel in the catch.

  I deserved that. I knew I did.

  If he were a different man, I would expect that this would be the time that he would burst out laughing, telling me that he was only busting my balls and wish me luck but he wasn’t.

  And he didn’t.

  Instead, he pursed his lips at my silence and turned his back to me, to walk out of my office.

  After all, he had completed what he had come to do. His interest in my progress was merely a superficial diversion, genuine only to the extent that he could ensure he would not fail. Once he was certain that he could easily take all the credit for all my hard work, he no longer cared about whether I had a pulse, so long as he got what he wanted.

  Fucking great! I thought as my blood started to boil at the realization that he was completely serious in his pursuit.

  I knew I shouldn’t have been, but I was also astounded by the sheer absurdity of what was going on. I was pissed beyond belief that he would do something like this but angered further by the knowledge that I should have expected him to pull something like this.

  “No,” I finally insisted, moments before my father reached the door of my office, which would have signaled the closing of my window of opportunity.

  As my father stopped abruptly and his spine straightened testily with the insult of my insubordination, I stood to further solidify my position.

  “No?” he asked, his voice teeming as he slowly wheeled himself around to face me. His jaw was locked, and his eyes were beady, egregiously and instantly ill-tempered by what he perceived as my insolence. “What the hell do you mean, no?”

  “I mean, I worked hard on this, and I am going to give the presentation, by myself, to Mr. Wilson. I’m the one who has created a relationship with him. I am the one who he is expecting.”

  “Well, according to Brock, you’re too distracted with your own personal problems, which I care nothing about, to deal with this properly.”

  That slimy little shit-stain.

  Again, I knew I shouldn’t be surprised, and in all honesty, I was angrier that he would be such a dick than I was surprised by his actions.

  I knew he was a weasel; my only wonderment was why my father was so comfortable with him trying to sabotage me.

  “Brock is a piece of shit,” I tensed, throwing the insult as a knee-jerk reaction. Although I knew I shouldn’t have said it, I’ll be damned if I didn’t mean it. “Besides, I know this better than anyone. He was the one who came in here to tell me what a wonderful job I had done, so he can shove it up his ass.” I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward, with my fists resting almost pugnaciously on my desk. “I’m going, and that’s final.”

  My father’s eyes flared from the depth of my derision, and he huffed.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he snarled.

  “Yes, Dad. I am. I’m going. I’ve worked too damn hard for you or anyone else to take credit for this,” I was surprised at how calm I sounded, but in retrospect, I was extremely angry and now that I had picked this fight, I sure as hell didn’t want to back down.

  He narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

  “The depths of your ingratitude are devastating,” he insisted, “I can’t believe you,” he stammered.

  I could tell he was trying not to haul off and hit me, but knowing that he couldn’t made this all the better. There wasn’t a thing he could do about this, so long as I didn’t back down.

  So, I kept my eyes fixated on him, forcing myself not to blink.

  The two of us stood there, glowering at one another for an infinitely long time. He wanted to break me, make me look away and bend to his will but I’d be damned if I was going to let him steal the project I had worked so hard on.

  Thus, we continued our silent battle of wills until finally, gloriously, my father spoke.

  “Fine,” he spat, hinging his jaw in anger, “But be warned, if you come back without this deal, you are going to need a new job, Dexter.”

  With that, he wheeled himself around and walked out of the office.

  I narrowed my eyes and mouthed, “Yeah, fuck you too!”

  Despite my father’s words final words to me, I was pleased. I had won.

  I was going to get on that plane, have that meeting, and close my deal.

  Chapter 14

  Mazie

  Apparently, having the day off wasn’t good for my OCD. I had long since run out of things to do around the house, and thus, I continued to clean a house that was no longer dirty and perfect decorations that no one was going to see.

  I love the holiday season, but since my parents had the bigger house, there was no sense in having anyone come over to my house unless I went out of my way to invite friends over. However, this year, I had so much going on and so much on my mind that I didn’t feel like putting something like that together.

  Still, I was decorated to the hilt, with a clean house and no one to show it to.

  I sighed as I took a break, looking around my spotless living room, with the Christmas tree sitting in the corner, without a needle out of place, and wondered if I was truly missing something.

  After my conversation with my father about Dexter the day before, I couldn’t help but continue to think about him and what I might possibly be missing in my life.

  I had a job that I loved, a home that I adored, and a cat that, while she didn’t always make me feel like the love I felt for her, was still always there when I needed her.

  I had a few good friends and a c
omfortable life but after the other night with Dexter and hearing what my father had to say about him, I couldn’t help but think that there might be something that I was missing.

  I sighed, wishing I wasn’t thinking that way. I didn’t want to think that Dexter might be the answer to issues I didn’t even know I had until recently, even if I thought I was the answer to his.

  A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

  Upon answering it, I hoped, naively, that it might be Dexter but wasn’t disappointed to find it was Laura.

  When she came inside, she was grinning from ear to ear and wanted to know all about what happened with Dexter.

  I had slipped and told her that I had a date with him and like I expected, she blew it way out of proportion and now, she was dying to know the details.

  Not that they were all that juicy.

  “This is the juiciest thing that has happened to you since…well, ever,” she teased at my retort, making herself at home in my freshly polished living room.

  “That’s not true! I have led a full life,” I insisted.

  “Sure, you have,” she replied sarcastically, sniffing the air the air and making a face.

  “Why does it smell like Mr. Clean threw up in here?”

  I laughed.

  “Um…eww…I was cleaning.”

  “Do you have company coming?” she asked as her eyes lit up with suggestion. “’Cause I know you didn’t do all of this for me.”

  “No. I didn’t do it for anyone. I was just…cleaning.”

  She narrowed her eyes and stared at me awkwardly.

  “Anyway,” I insisted, trying to get off the subject of my cleaning habits.

  “Yes, anyway! What happened the other night? Did you have a good time?”

  Out of the pan and into the fire, I thought as I tried to figure out exactly what I should say to her.

  “Yeah, we had a nice time,” I answered honestly. “But I’m still not convinced that he wasn’t just trying to make sure I wouldn’t say anything.”