Deliciously Obedient (37 page)

Huh?

“
You’re
the billionaire.”

“
I’m
the billionaire.” Jeremy pointed to himself. “That’s me.
Billionaire Jeremy.”

The
air whooshed out of Mike’s lungs and the room seemed a bit too real
for a couple of seconds. He looked up—and oh, how he hated looking
up at Jeremy—and pointed his finger inches from his nose. “
You’re
a billionaire?”

“
According
to my accountant, who I just met with the other day, all the
investments total nearly a billion and a half. My net worth is 1.5
billion.”

“
You’re
worth 1.5 billion?” Mike started to laugh. That was close to his
target figure if everything had gone through as planned with the
board. If he hadn’t met Lydia. If he hadn’t screwed up. If he
hadn’t—the implications of years of self-discipline, denial,
strategy, of ambition came crashing on him and he searched for a
seat, finding a cheap stool. It was as welcome as the most
comfortable Herman Miller chair. His hamstrings screamed as he
lowered himself in place, as if every muscle in his body were in pain
right now, a reflection of his mind.

“
You’re
a billionaire,” he said again.

“
Yes.”

“
So
I’ve spent…” He held up his hand as Jeremy tried to speak.
“Hang on. Let me get this out. Let me get this straight. I’ve
spent the past thirteen years working my ever-loving-ass off, buying
my dad out, growing this company—well, it isn’t
mine
anymore—growing that company, building an empire so that I could
have an extraordinary payoff, and then all that risk would be worth
it. And I blew it. I totally blew it.”

Jeremy’s
face oozed sympathy. Mike wanted to peel it off and fling it into a
pit of wolves.

“
And
meanwhile, you are out being a worldwide Van Wilder, Mr.
Party-Animal-Crazy-Dude. But you’re investing in little, socially
progressive funding opportunities for, like…cake makers in Borneo,
or empanada cookers in Bolivia.”

“
That’s
one of the projects, actually,” Jeremy said, holding his index
finger up, ready to go into more detail.

“
I…I
got it. I got it,” Mike said. “For thirteen years you’ve been
having
fun
,” he said, the last word coming out as a growl.
“And through that fun you’ve accomplished everything that
I
wanted.”

“
You
say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jeremy said. “I did what I
wanted. My investments are mine—risks I chose carefully, after
weighing out the potential downfall and the possible reward. I didn’t
just invest in the microloans. I have a balanced portfolio for
safety, but I loaded a lot into these investments. You’re not the
only man capable of taking calculated chances.”

“
Of
course I’m not.” Mike simmered, a stew of anger, outrage,
incredulity and shame bubbling inside. Jeremy was a billionaire?

And
Mike wasn’t.

“
I
suppose congratulations are in order.” The words came out with more
bitterness than Mike intended. Taking in a few breaths, he tried
again. “I really do mean that.”

Jeremy’s
wry smile showed he understood. “You can’t believe I did it.”

Sincerity
made Mike blunt. “You bet your ass I can’t believe it. Party Boy
makes the better financial choices and ends up a billionaire.
Hard-nosed CEO risks it all and ends up the butt of a million viral
social media jokes and the future object of an entire campground’s
hatred.”

“
I
can see how that could make you bitter.”

“
Your
sympathy is duly noted.” Mike took a long drink. “And fuck you,”
he added for good measure.

“
I
deserve that.” Jeremy seemed smug. When did Jeremy become smug?
Mike could get away with being smug because he was—had been—a
major player. Jeremy couldn’t deal his way out of a paper bag.

Yet
who was the billionaire now?

“
How
did this happen?”

“
Is
that a philosophical question or do you want a blueprint?”

“
I
want to know how I ended up being your bitch and the woman we both
love disappeared.”

Jeremy
frowned. “She didn’t disappear. She’s at the hospital with her
grandma.”

“
If
she isn’t in my bed, warming her side, she’s ‘disappeared.’”

“
Your
side?”

“
My
third.”

“
Much
better.”

Mike
lowered his voice. “Not the place for this conversation.” A
massive grunt and then the slam of four hundred pounds of iron
against a padded floor punctuated Mike’s point.

“
Definitely
not the place. You know a much better location for this talk?”

In
unison they said: “The hospital.”

Lydia,
Caleb and Miles all crowded around Madge as if she were a china doll.

“
Quit
treating me like I’m breakable!” she shouted, batting Miles’
hovering hands as she stood up from sitting on the bed.

“
But
you are, Grandma,” she said in a singsongy voice.

“
Who
turned you into Captain Kangaroo?”

“
Captain
Who?”

“
Never
mind.”

Lydia’s
parents were on their way, and then the whole gang, minus Adam and
Dan, would accompany Madge to her apartment and get her settled. With
Dan and Adam back at the campground after a harrowing travel schedule
that had flown them in to Albany and had them rent a car to drive
home, Sandy, Pete and Miles had been free to come in and help.
Despite her grievous indignation that five people would be required
to transport one woman, Madge’s wish to be left alone to take the T
home was cheerfully ignored.

Knock
knock
. Two warm brown eyes met Lydia’s when she looked up,
attached to a wide-shouldered, well-toned man’s body under a
tucked-in blue Oxford shirt and jeans. Alex. And then—

“
Eddie!
Thank God you’re here. Get me out of this loony bin.” Madge
walked with a spry step, with an over-exaggerated sense of energy.
“These people think I’m sick. Take me home and make love to me.”

Everyone
avoided everyone’s eyes.

Mwah!
Ed planted a relatively chaste kiss on Madge’s lips and Alex
squirmed, those powerful arms covered with long sleeves, Lydia’s
mind wandering to what he—

Damn
it, Lydia. You don’t need three men.

The
thought made her chuckle, which made Alex give her a look of
curiosity, which made her insides warm up, which made her bat at the
flames, because if Jeremy and Mike weren’t enough right now, then
she was a true freak.

Already
a half-freak, she didn’t need the full monty.

Again
with the bad metaphors…

“
Hey.”
Jeremy’s face appeared from behind Alex, and then—

No.

Hell
no.

Mike?

“
What
are you doing here?” she hissed.

Alex’s
face changed to alarm. “I brought my grandpa—”

“
Not
you.” Head down, eyes tipped up with a schoolmarm’s
righteousness, she plowed through the crowd at the threshold, leaving
a very confused Alex to step inside, accidentally blocking her. The
two performed an impressive do-si-do before she was in the hallway
and went all crazy-eyes on Mike.

“
Get
out of here! My family knows you, right? You asshole! The last thing
I need right now with Grandma’s health on the edge is for you to
cause a scene.”

Alex
stayed in the door way but seemed to be focused on Ed.

“
You’re
making a scene,” Mike said evenly. “We came here to see you and
check in.”

“
You
ignore my texts,” she said to Jeremy, then turned to Mike, “and
think you can invade here?”

“
Ignore
your texts?” Jeremy fished around in his pocket and pulled out his
phone. “Shit. Battery’s dead.” The look he gave her was one of
sincere contrition, with just enough self-horror to make her almost
laugh.

Almost.

“
If
my parents show up, what are they going to think?”

“
What’s
going on—Mike?” Miles walked into the hall, nudging past Alex at
the door, his face going from inquisitive to deeply suspicious. His
eyes carefully catalogued the scene, resting first on Lydia, combing
over Jeremy’s face, and then scrutinizing Mike so meticulously he
might have been Benedict Cumberbatch with a bad case of OCD.

What
felt like minutes ticked by. Even Alex turned slightly backward, as
if sensing the shift in the interactions in the hall.

“
Mike.
Michael.” Miles said the names slowly. “Not Davis. Bournham. Oh,
Jesus,” he muttered. “Mom thought it was a little weird that you
paid for the month’s rental in cash.”

“
Cash?”
Lydia said, giving Mike a look of disdain. “You’re the guy Mom
was trying to hook me up with?”

“
What’s
wrong with cash?” he asked.

“
Drug
dealers pay for big purchases with cash,” Jeremy said a bit
sheepishly. “You tip people off when you do that.” He frowned and
turned to Lydia. “What do you mean, your mom tried to hook you up
with Mike. But you were with me...”

Lydia
didn’t get a chance to answer.

“
But
not naïve people like Pete and Sandy,” Miles hissed. Lydia watched
Miles’ temper go from a 1 to a 7 all too fast. She knew he had no
respect for convention and would blow up in this hallway if she
didn’t modulate this mess, and do it with as much tact and grace as
possible.

Before
Pete and Sandy arrived.

She
did not need this. Not now. Not ever, but definitely not right now,
with Grandma barely recovered, her own location in flux, having slept
with two wonderful men in the same week, and not knowing what her
future—hell, what the next day—would bring.

Add
in Miles losing it on a hospital wing where he was as likely to be
kicked out as tranquilized, and she was done.

Done.

As
Mike and Miles squared off, their words exchanged in a great haze of
white noise, Jeremy ignored them and watched her. Pulling her aside,
he quietly asked, “Are you okay?”

“
Do
I look okay?” Her answer felt like it was being sent through jelly.

“
No.”

“
How
many women would be okay after being asked to join a threesome?”

Her
voice wasn’t loud enough for the bickering men to hear her, but in
the edges of her vision she realized Alex had reacted.

“
There
must be some trend I’m missing,” he muttered, looking back for a
split second at her and Jeremy, and then taking two steps in the room
and closing the door.

“
Out!”
she demanded, pointing at Mike. “You have to leave before Mom and
Dad get here. Today is about my grandmother getting home and
recovering, not about my family putting two and two together.”

Miles
stopped mid-sentence, finger in Mike’s face. “You tell him,
Lydia. Get this dick out of here.”

“
I’m
sleeping with that dick, so you keep your mouth shut, too, Miles.”
His mouth went to an O of surprise that she found quite liberating.