Resisting the Billionaire (8 page)

“
Allentron
makes a better helper
robot than your company, you know,” Marcus’s said in a superior tone.

“Marcus!” I twisted my head to look at him warningly,
appalled at his lack of manners. “That’s rude.”

Jake smiled to let me know it was okay. “Tell me why you
think so?”

“Cora took me to the robotics expo a few months ago.”

I grimaced at the memory of the geek fest, but Marcus had
begged to go.

“While your robot looked better, the
Allentron
one had more functionality. I talked to the guy at the booth and they created
their own programming language. Your company only uses C++ and Python.” He
sounded comically contemptuous.

Even though it all sounded like Greek to me, Jake looked
impressed. “I’ll have to talk to our engineers about this. How do you know so
much about this stuff?”

“Oh, I’ve built my own robots. Well… I used to build them.”

I bit my lip guiltily. Before my mom got sick, we had the
money and space for Marcus to indulge in his hobby, but our circumstances had
completely changed.

“I’d love to see what you’ve made.”

Marcus stuck his head between our seats. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Cora, can Jake come up and see my robots?” Marcus looked at
me pleadingly.

I hated to disappoint Marcus, especially after our crappy
day, but my first instinct was to say no. I looked at Jake, my eyes huge.
This man being in our apartment set off alarm bells.
Whatever distance I was trying to maintain would be undone.

“Um…Jake’s a very busy person, Marcus. He probably needs to
be somewhere.” I prayed Jake would latch on to the excuse I offered him.

“Do you?” Marcus turned to Jake and I heard the hopeful note
in his voice. My heart ached. A male role model in his life was something I
could not provide for him.

Please say you’re
busy. Please!

“If your sister is okay with it, I’d love to see it.” His
eyes danced with amusement as if he knew what I was thinking.

As if my agreement were a foregone conclusion, Marcus pumped
his fist and exclaimed, “Yes!”

My eyes sent Jake a silent apology and I mouthed, “You don’t
have to.”

In response, he mouthed, “I want to.”

Miraculously, a spot opened on our block and Jake pulled
into the space.

“Um…it’s not the safest neighborhood,” I warned him as we
got out of the car.

He shrugged. “It’s fine. My car has an alarm and nobody
could steal this thing.” He held up the key. “The engine will kill itself if
someone doesn’t have the computerized key.”

He walked next to me and without knowing how it
happened,
his hand was at my back again. Only unlike at the
office, this time it felt like an affectionate gesture and not a means to move
me along. My body tensed, but Jake did not drop his hand.

Marcus ran ahead of us, eager to show Jake his toys.

“Thank you for agreeing to see his robots. I’m afraid I’m
not a very good audience. I love the theory of AI, but I’m not interested in
the practical applications. I start spacing out as soon as he talks about the
technical aspects.”

“It’s okay. Men are little boys at heart and what boy
doesn’t enjoy robots?”

“He got his love of math and science from my dad.”

Jake looked at me inquiringly. “What did your dad do?”

“He taught Physics at the University of Chicago.”

“Was your dad Sebastian
Branton
?”

I stopped in my tracks and stared at him in amazement. “How
did you know?”

“His theory on subatomic particles was brilliant! I wasn’t a
science buff, but I took a physics class my last year in my undergraduate
studies and his writing was so clear and concise.” His eyes darkened with
sympathy. “I’m sorry about your dad. His death was a loss to the whole world.”

His sincerity was unmistakable. “Thanks. Marcus was only
five when our dad died, but he adored him. I could see so much of our dad in
him though. That’s why the fight today doesn’t make any sense. Marcus is a
thinker, not a fighter.” I started walking again.

“He might just be undergoing changes he doesn’t know how to
deal with. God knows Troy and I were holy terrors as teens.”

“I hope it’s just a phase.” But my gut told me something
triggered this and I didn’t know how to get the truth out of Marcus.

“What did your mom do?” Jake asked.

“She was an art teacher. She loved everything to do with the
arts. Marcus and I used to hang out in her ceramics studio when we were kids.
One time we were playing tag and broke a sculpture she had been working on for
months. My brother and I were terrified because that was how my mom earned
extra money, but she just laughed it off and said she never liked it to begin
with. She said the piece didn’t ‘speak to her.’” I smiled at the memory. I
didn’t mean to share so much about my mom, but the words came tumbling out.

“She sounded wonderful.”

“She was, but to her disappointment, neither Marcus nor I
inherited her artistic abilities. I’m lucky if I can draw a straight line,” I
admitted ruefully.

“She would be proud of both of you.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him and stopped in front of a three-story
brick building.

Jake’s eyes were assessing and faint lines of tension formed
around his mouth.

I supposed from a billionaire’s perspective, this must look
like a slum, but the building was safe. I had looked at a lot of other
apartments before finding this place. There were twelve units and many of the neighbors
had young families. They seemed to look out for each other. It was the best I
could do on my small paycheck and I refused to let Jake’s snobbery make me feel
bad about our home.

My chin lifted and I marched up the steps. Marcus had left
the front door wide open. I climbed up the creaky staircase, with Jake
following closely behind.

When we entered the apartment, I was suddenly aware of how cramped
it must appear to Jake. He probably lived in a humongous penthouse with views
of Lake Michigan. Our apartment had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen I could
barely turn around in without bumping into something, and a small living room.
We had no dining area and normally ate dinner at the counter or sat on the
sofa. The walls could use a fresh coat of paint and the appliances were old. At
least the furnishings were decent. We salvaged what we could when we moved out
of our house in Edison Park.

“Um…why don’t you have a seat? Do you want anything to
drink? I have soda, juice and water. I’m sorry I don’t have beer or wine, but
I’m not a drinker and of course, Marcus is too young.” I knew I was rambling,
but now that he was in my private space, I had an attack of nerves.

“Water is fine.”

Before I could turn away, he grabbed my hand and peered down
at me. “Is everything okay with Marcus?”

My fingers tingled from his touch and I fought to not blush
under his regard.

“He won’t say anything. The school has suspended him for
three days. I’m scared to send him back there if this will happen again. It’s a
black eye today, but it could be worse next time.”

Jake narrowed his eyes in thought. “How about moving him to
a private school? There’s an academy that’s devoted to math and science in the
city.”

I couldn’t contain my exasperation. “Jake, it’s not like I
haven’t thought of that, but
it’s
mid-school year.
Nobody accepts applications right now. Besides, private school costs a lot of
money.” Afraid he would misinterpret my statement, I rushed to explain, “Not
that you don’t give me a generous salary, but I need a bit more time to save up
the funds.”

Before we could continue our discussion, Marcus bounded out
of his room, his arms laden with gadgets and robotic parts. “These were the
only ones I could find.”

Realizing Jake still held my hand, I pulled out of his grasp
and hurried to the kitchen. As I reached into the cupboard for a glass, I
realized my hands were shaking. I tightened my fingers into fists to stop their
trembling. It felt surreal that Jake Weston III was in my living room, talking
to my brother. And
that minutes
ago, I was discussing
my concerns about my brother with him. It felt wonderful and strange to be able
to talk to another adult about my problems.

Don’t get used to
this, Cora! He’s your boss.

I closed my eyes to center myself. The noises behind me drew
my attention. My heart melted at the sight of two heads bent together in
concentration. Marcus looked happy to finally have someone who spoke his
language and Jake looked like a little boy. He had taken off his suit jacket
and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. He seemed just as excited as my brother to
play with the toys.

Never in a million years would I have imagined seeing the
CEO of a multi-billion dollar company like this.

I walked over and handed the water to Jake and a pack of
frozen peas to Marcus.

“Put this on your eye,” I ordered and sat on the sofa to
watch them.

Surprisingly he took it without too much fuss, even though
he soon put it down to free his hands to use the remote control to move one of his
robots. The little gadget glided over the floor and stopped at the foot of the sofa.
It backed up and moved sideways until it had room to maneuver again.

“I programmed this one to go around obstacles. It can climb
things and jump off surfaces. I built in springs in its joints so that it could
move better.”

“That’s really impressive, Marcus. How did you learn how to
do this?”

“One of my teachers at my old school showed me how to build a
basic model and I added the other features on my own. This robot won first
place at the International Junior Robotics Expo.” Marcus was matter-of-fact
about his amazing ability.

Both of Jake’s thick brows rose in astonishment. A burst of
pride filled me that my brother could impress this man.

Jake lifted his head and gazed at me, his eyes speculative.
Without breaking eye contact, he said, “You know Marcus, I could really use
someone like you to help me test out some products for
Robotrex
.
Of course, you’re too young for me to employ officially, but maybe you could
visit our testing center for a couple of hours when we are working on a new
product. It’s only a few times a year, but I’d love your input. That is, if
your sister is okay with it.”

I frowned, not sure I liked the idea of my brother getting entangled
with the company, however minor the involvement.

Marcus practically sprang to his feet, putting his hands
together in a prayer pose. “Please, Cora! May I? I promise I won’t ask for
anything else ever again!”

Then Jake made a humming sound, as if he were reconsidering.
“The only problem is…”

My brother spun around to look down at Jake in alarm, his
skinny body tense. “What problem?”

Jake looked regretful. “Well, I am concerned about today’s
incident. Robotics is a very team oriented industry and I need to make sure
everyone works well with others, even those who aren’t officially employed. And
you being in a fight…” He paused and added softly, “Unless there are
extenuating circumstances.”

I stared, wide-eyed, at the master tactician sitting in my
living room. I didn’t know if I should be appalled at his manipulation or if I
should applaud him.

Marcus dropped his eyes and shifted his weight. His hand rose
to touch his purpling flesh and I winced at how swollen it looked.

I could see his logical brain weighing the options.

Finally, he blurted, “Evan Jones was making fun of me. I
ignored him when he called me an orphan and when he made fun of my clothes, but
then he said something bad about my mom and I punched him in the mouth.”

He snuck a peek at me and I tried to keep my face blank even
though I wanted to howl and weep in sorrow. It hurt me deeply that my brother
was being bullied. It was my fault that I hadn’t bought him better-fitting
clothes earlier. It didn’t surprise me that the teasing about his wardrobe hadn’t
pushed him to violence, but a negative comment about our mother did. Marcus
worshiped our mom and on the heels of losing her just this year, he would have
fought to the death to defend her memory.

Jake’s tone was measured, but his face darkened. “I see.
That certainly puts a different perspective on things. I could understand the
impulse because if someone said something unflattering about my mother, I’d want
to punch his lights out too.”

Marcus’s posture visibly changed. He stood straighter and
raised his head. “Really?”

“Really, but I would have kept my control and found a better
way to exact revenge.”

Alarmed at the direction of the conversation, I piped up,
“What Jake meant is that it’s better to maintain your dignity and walk away.”

I swore I felt both males roll their eyes at my Pollyanna
statement, even though only Marcus did.

“No, what I meant was, there are better ways to get back at
your enemies than to physically hurt them.”

“Like what?” Marcus plopped down on the floor and looked at
Jake with rapt attention.

“Well, when someone in my life does something reprehensible,
I crush them where it really hurts. Generally that’s their wallet.”

Marcus pondered this ruthless advice and I stood up
abruptly. “Nobody is crushing anybody! Now what do you want to eat tonight?”

My brother looked up at me. “Can we have stir-fry?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled and bent down to pick up the bag of thawing
peas.

Marcus turned to Jake. “Can you stay for dinner? Cora makes
the best stir-fry!”

Shock held me immobile, my back bowed and my eyes level with
my boss’s startled face. My mouth opened and closed wordlessly and I made a
vague sound of distress in the back of my throat.

My dismay seemed to amuse Jake and his eyes were practically
twinkling when he said, “If it’s not too much of an intrusion,
I’d
love to stay for your sister’s famous stir-fry.”