Juice: An Alpha Male Billionaire Romance - Part 4 (Juice: The Series) (2 page)

“No, I’ve never known what Everett will do.”

“Bronwyn…” she says, stopping to look me in the eye, “Don’t
bullshit me.”

“I’m being honest, really,” I say, believing myself for a
moment, but I can feel my ears burning.

“I saw his hand on your leg for Christ’s sake,” she says. She’s
looking at me with a pained expression. “Just tell me what’s going on,” she
pleads.

Deep down I’m only being honest about not knowing the
specifics of Everett’s offer. I’ve been hiding everything else. I have to tell
her about the first meeting, to the second, to the trip to clear my own mind
and hers. If our trust is shattered forever, so be it. I have to be honest with
the people around me. Starting right now.

I rub my eyes are few times and start, “Ok, remember that
first order from Everett…”

* * *

“For a moment, I thought you two bailed on me,” Everett says
pouring his own glass at the table. He’s ordered another bottle and worked his
way through a plate of oysters, which are now sitting in a watery ice bath.

“She did,” I say sitting down with him, dejected.

“She said I’m terrible friend, and she can’t trust me
anymore,” I say.

Piper and I have been friends since highschool and
reconnected here in New York. She’s been one of my few real supporters in this enormous,
scary place. I feel terrible, like I’m abandoning her now that I have this
shiny object, Everett, at the forefront. I can’t lose myself to him. Am I just
being greedy or can I have it all?

I love when he dominates me sexually. His power, his
masculinity. It’s the biggest turn on, giving myself completely over to him.
But now he’s asking to remove an important person from my life. My head is
spinning.   I hoped Everett’s offer would be cash for equity, but I never
imagined he wanted Piper out completely.

Floating in the pool, the vague words he said about Piper
not fitting with his plan, right before we had mind-blowing sex again. He must
have banged the memory out of my head temporarily. I should have seen this
coming.

“Everett,” I say, looking into his eyes, “I have to be
honest. This deal caught me by surprise, too.” I have to talk it over with her.

He nods and picks up his wine glass, and swirls the light
red around. His mood has shifted.

“I understand,” he says, brooding. “This is a substantial amount
of money I’m offering. Does she not need it?”

“Of course she needs it. We all need money,” I say, “but
taking it and leaving means she has some cash in the bank and nothing to work towards.”

“It’s a fair offer. More than fair,” Everett says, shaking
his head. “I thought you two were smart business owners. By my calculation,
your business is really worth about $50,000, and I’m valuing it at nearly half
a million.”

His cold numbers don’t lie.
Namaste
is only profiting
a little over a thousand a month, and a Business 101 valuation would put us at
$100k at best.

“Bronwyn, I’m investing in you, not your business. Let me
ask you a question, what’s your LTV, lifetime value per customer?”

“Well, we’re new, I don’t know how many times someone will
buy in their lifetime,” I say, thinking I sound smart.

“Fair enough, then what is your cost of acquisition?”

He’s grilling me now on the numbers. I should have expected
this at some point, but I never prepared. In a way I can sabotage myself, when
I feel I’m at a disadvantage. Knowing I’d never live up to a billionaire’s level
of business acumen, I ignored it completely, to my own demise.

“I don’t know, Everett,” I say and feel my skin prickling
from the tension. I feel a fever coming on and my heart is pounding, and for
once it’s not because of sexual stimulation.

“See, you and Piper, should be grateful just to have an
offer for funding. Any other investor would laugh you out of the room by now,” he
says and starts looking at his phone.

We’re sitting side by side in the restaurant, but I feel
we’re miles apart. I force a pleasant memory of floating in the pool in Italy,
and it comforts me for a moment while I contemplate his change in tone. I look
over at his face, his lustrous hair, strong chin, and large frame. But he’s
looking away from me. I don’t know what happened. I look down in my lap and
feel tears begin to well and my nose tickle. I’m trying so hard not to cry, not
to make a scene in this nice place, but I feel it coming on.

“I’m sorry I have to go-” I say and get up quickly from the
table.

“Bronwyn, wait-” he says calling after me, but I’m already
gone.

I jump into the back of a cab right outside the restaurant
that pulls away. I turn back to the restaurant as we leave and see Everett
running after me, exasperated.

He’s right, but he’s wrong. My company isn’t the next AirBnb,
but it’s my baby. Piper’s and mine. Everett’s presence is turning us against
one another, and lying about the situation to her may mean we’ll never be
friends again. I’m getting away from him now, though. I need to collect my
thoughts and think of what I really want.

* * *

The crack snakes down from the top of the wall and into a
rushed patch job of plaster. My eyes have been inspecting the walls in our
rundown east village apartment for the past half hour as Piper and I try to
come to some sort of resolution.

“I just can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me the
whole time,” she says, pacing around the living room. She always finds outlets
for energy when she’s mad or nervous, dusting, putting away dishes,
straightening throw pillows. At least this scuffle is good for the housekeeping
of our place.

“I’m sorry, Piper, I really am, I just-”

“You know how I am. This was supposed to be a real business,
not some side-gig we use to meet and fuck guys,” she says. Her words sting.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I say, trying to explain
my actions. “And you know I wouldn’t do this normally. I was just overwhelmed
in the moment. I have a feeling all of this will work out.”

She stands. “I hope so. I’m not saying this because I’m
jealous. I feel like he’s pushing us around and doesn’t take our business
seriously.”

“I think he does, but he needs to have control. Maybe he
doesn’t think he can handle both of us,” I say and show a small smile.

She allows a smile as well, but walks away again. “I’m not
going to lie,” she says, “$100,000, wow…it’s more money than I’ve ever had in
my life.”

“You could do a lot with that,” I say, not trying to offer
too much advice. “I’m not getting any money.”

“Well,” she says looking at me with a half-cocked looked,
“you’re getting a lot.”

I blush, but I really don’t. I feel a connection building
with Everett, but we’ve only known each other a couple months at this point.
When a man has more money than he can spend, I fear he may not behave
rationally.

She comes to my room and sits on my bed. “Bron, you’re my
only real friend here,” she says, “my big fear is if I take the offer, and
leave
Namaste
, we’ll drift apart and never see each other again. I’m
afraid you’ll run off with him and never look back, leaving me to be swept into
the sewers of New York.”

We share a laugh. “Hey, you could take that money and start
a rival juice business, who knows what you’re capable of,” I say.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t flatter me,” she says.

“I’m being serious,” I say and take her hand. “You’re the
sales machine of
Namaste
. I can’t sell shit. You know how I am with
customers, I oversell, I undersell, I get nervous and sweat. When you promote, they
just fly off the table. You’re a natural.”

It’s true. Piper is the reason we have the success we do
have, and she can take that ability anywhere.

“Ok, so is this what you want, me to be out?”

“No, I don’t. I hoped we could all work on this together. But
Everett seems set on it,” I say.

“Ok, then, it’s settled,” she says, walking out to the
kitchen. “Let’s do it.”

All my excitement of Everett’s whirlwind is sucked out of
me. My life of a fun side project and sexy billionaire investor has turned to
cold business decisions pitting me against my best friend. My eyes have now
fallen onto the discolored water damage along the ceiling. I can’t believe this
is what $2600 per month buys you in New York. A knot is stuck in my stomach.

“Ok,” I say, accepting her decision.

* * *

Everett

I hate this feeling, feeling dumb. I thought I could
dominate her completely, in every way, and she’s now pushing back, in a way I
didn’t expect. She’s been my perfect submissive until this point. But they say,
‘Pigs get fat, Hogs get slaughtered.’ I’m being a hog with this offer. Ever
since coming into this fortune, people have started to sacrifice anything to
get a piece of me. Bronwyn is the first to challenge that expectation.

I love controlling her body, her sexuality. I’ve never been
so attracted to a woman before in my life. Her curves, her mouth, the way she
takes all of me, and gives me all of herself. I can’t keep my mind off of her.
With her I want it all. I have to have it all. She’s become my obsession.

But, I feel the walls I’ve built around myself coming down.
Perhaps with
Namaste
we can work as equals and build a future.

* * *

Bronwyn

Two days go by. Silence. I text Maddy.

Hey, let’s get
together, I’m feeling crazy tonight

She writes back immediately:

Yes
J
Come to
Watanabe
in meatpacking
district. Donovan will be there.

My head is filling with crazy thoughts, I need to get away
from Everett’s control for a night. Maddy has been lurking, trying to get me
out again ever since our night at
Slipper
. I’d put off that wild night
as an aberration, but I’m feeling I have to do something tonight or I’ll just
give in to Everett. I didn’t come to New York just to be some rich man’s plus
one. I’m better than that.

Watanabe is a dark lounge that serves sushi and does hookah.
It’s popular among Asian and Middle Eastern business types. I walk in around
11:00pm and see Maddy and Donovan sharing a hose and looking comfortable.

“Hey!” she screams, running over to me in her heels. “You
made it.”

She hugs me tightly and I hear her inhale as we embrace.

“You remember Donovan, right,” she says, gently guiding me
over to her friend.

“Yes, of course,” I say smiling.

He kisses my hands and offers me a seat in front of the
hookah, between the two of them. Cool blue lights, lithe Asian waitresses, and
the smell of apple hookah smoke mix in the air. A DJ in the far corner is
watching over the room, playing a soothing beat.

“Here try some,” Maddy says, holding the hookah for me.

“We used to do this in college,” I say and pull in a long
draw. The smoke fills my lungs but the cool vapor doesn’t make me cough.

“There you go,” she says, and rests a hand on my leg. “Let’s
just have some fun tonight.”

It feels good to be here. Away from work, from Piper, even away
from Everett a moment, I can clear my head. I decide this is the best thing I
can do to hit a reset button and decide where to go next.

The music’s volume increases and we sip strong margaritas.
Donovan offers his hand, and we dance at our table. It feels good. The soft
material of his t-shift stretches across his broad back as we dance closer.

“You look great, you’re a great dancer,” he says in my ear,
causing a flash across my body.

“Thanks!” I say and spin around. I’m feeling tipsy and little
lightheaded from the hookah so I take a seat.

Maddy sits next to me and says, “Hey, let’s get out of here,
Donovan’s place is right around the corner.” I’m feeling pursued again, like I did
the last time we saw each other, and it feels good.

“Sounds good,” I mutter and put my head on her shoulder.

* * *

I’m exhausted and stressed and find some comfort sitting on Donovon’s
bed in his downtown studio. The intimate space is small and dark.

“What happened with that billionaire guy you were seeing?”
Maddy calls from the kitchen, pouring drinks with Donovan.

“Oh, Everett?” I try to say cooly, as though, every minute
weren’t spent thinking of him. “We had a little falling out.”

“That’s too bad, honey” she says and strokes my hair while
offering me a drink.

“What’s this?”

“Whisky.”

“Jefferson?”

“Jack.”

I take it down. It’s no Jefferson, but it will do.

I hear a bubbling and see Donovan’s sucking on the business
end of a water pipe at the coffee table, blowing out the smoke toward the ceiling.

“Ladies?” he offers the product.

“Oh, thank you!” Maddy prances over, swinging her hips to
join him on the couch. She takes a long hit and holds it in her lungs before
slowly releasing the smoke.

“C’mon Bron, try some,” she offers.

I shake my head. “No way, weed makes me paranoid.”

“Lame. Weed makes me horny,” she says and smiles while holding
another hit. “Donovan, too,” she continues and squeezes his leg, causing him to
cough.

“Haha, stop that,” he says and clears his throat. I nurse my
whiskey and watch as they catch each other’s eyes and then kiss. Her body rises
as he pulls her waist towards his body.

I’m cool with this. I think. I had a quasi-hook up with
Maddy at the club. It was exciting and hot but secret. I don’t think anyone but
us knows it happened. I avert my eyes a moment and find a mini-stereo to turn
on some music. I put on Amy Winehouse’s
Just Friends.

I dance a little by myself and turn around to see Donovan
and Maddy have transitioned to the bed, behind me. I feel bashful, like I
shouldn’t be there as they lay down together.

Maddy, from her back reaches out a hand and grabs my arm, “Come
here,” she whispers and pulls me over to the two of them.