The Elite: The Complete Series of Boomer and Player (With Bonus) (41 page)

Whatever the hell had gone down, I didn’t really care. I was done with the drama and ready to get on with my own plans. Plans that didn’t require Henry O’Keefe’s money
or
connections.

“Lana, what’s this blocked out section on the calendar?” I kept my finger on the screen as I twisted in my chair to look at Lana, who was seated on the couch in my office, taking notes as we went over the plans for the week ahead.

Lana stood and hovered over my shoulder to see what I was talking about. “Oh, I meant to talk to you about that…”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

I spun around in the office chair and Lana jumped back, narrowly avoiding contact with my legs as they swung around. “Mr. O’Keefe—”

I groaned and leaned forward, burying my face in my hands. She stopped short, the rest of her explanation dissolving into a nervous stammer.

All of Talia’s words came rushing back to me, practically shouting in my head, and I ran a hand over my face, willing it all to stop. “Cancel it, Lana. I’m not interested in his pitch.”

“But, Aaron, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime! If someone like him is interested in a meeting with you…”

“I’m not interested,” I grit out, my teeth bared.

Lana’s eyes went wide, but she nodded. “Okay. I’ll cancel it.”

She started for the door when a new layer of reality settled over me. “Wait.”

She skidded to a stop at the door.

“I’ll go.”

To her credit, Lana didn’t ask for a reason behind my abrupt change of heart. She gave a firm nod and left the room.

“Fuck!” I picked up a pen, just to slam it down onto the desk. The noise wasn’t as satisfying as I wanted it to be, so I slammed it again.

The problem with O’Keefe was that he wasn’t going to go away. Not until I stood my ground and
made
him back the fuck off.

So, that’s what I’d do.

I’d never backed away from a battle before, and this was going to be no different. Aaron Rosen wasn’t a fuckin’ pussy and stuffed shirts like Henry O’Keefe didn’t intimidate me.

And I was about to prove it.

* * * *

The afternoon of the meeting arrived and, as Talia had predicted, I found myself in a board room with half a dozen players in the big leagues. They were all dressed in priceless Italian suits and probably all had a set of keys to some dumb ass luxury car in their pocket.

It didn’t matter to me.

I wasn’t going to sell the museum. There was no dollar amount that O’Keefe or any of his cronies could put on it to make me change my mind. That place was a huge piece of my heart and soul, and there was no way they were going to take it away from me.

I’d dressed down, wearing my same old pair of torn jeans, my signature black t-shirt, and my worn black leather jacket. I was shielded by an unbreakable wall of confidence and was capable of matching every mother fuckin’ big shot in the room without the disguise of fancy ass clothes.

“We’re all so glad you could make it,” Henry said, after introducing his pack of cronies. He had his polished persona turned on, and in the back of my mind, I wondered how long it would take before his parking lot brawler side came out for some fun.

I nodded to everyone and took a seat. I was willing to play the game.

For now.

Henry took the place at the head of the table, and as soon as he got into position, the lights in the room dimmed thanks to an assistant positioned by the door, and then a screen of data appeared on the wall behind him, projected from a computer in the center of the table. “We’ll respect your time, Mr. Rosen,” he said, giving me his false smile. He clasped his hands together. “It’s not a big secret that my offshoot business, Vantage Real Estate, has plans to move into Holiday Cove and establish a luxury high rise community. As of right now, there are no firm dates for when construction is set to begin, but it will be before the year is out. So, right now, we’re working to partner with the established businesses in the community to get them on board and leverage that support to get the rest of the town to rally in support of this project.”

He paused, waiting for me to say something, like I was too stupid to keep up.

“So, what are we talking? You want the museum to hand out coupon vouchers for all your fancy new clients?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

If Henry was upset, he didn’t show it. He laughed at my joke and the rest of the table joined in. “Not exactly. What I—we—had in mind is a little grander than all that.” He gestured to the screen behind him. “This is a sample of data we’ve collected, a projection, for the museum profits once the high rise is fully occupied. You see, a lot of the people who buy the condos will be investors who rent the spaces out, most of which will be seasonal, vacation rentals. Which obviously would raise the amount of foot traffic you’d have through the doors.”

“Great. Appreciate the heads up, I’ll make sure to look out for the crowd,” I said, my patience wearing thin as I waited for him to get to the point.

Henry maintained his smile, but it was starting to fracture. “It’s not quite that simple, Mr. Rosen,” he interjected, his tone snagged as he said my name. “What I want to do is completely re-brand the museum. Give it a face lift to maximize the new business and launch it into a new stratosphere on the profit charts.”

He flicked to a new slide, and while I kept a neutral face, my eyes nearly bugged out at the dollar amounts displayed on the screen. I’d managed to bring the business my father started from a hobby, only found in local magazines, and a few travel website listings on obscure websites, to a full-fledged tourist attraction. Sure, things had grown and expanded, quickly, but the figures on the screen were ten times higher than anything I’d even dreamed up for the future.

“As we talked about, on my visit a few weeks back, I have a passion for aircraft and aviation. You’ve done a great job, and I’m ready to invest and take it to the next level.”

“All out of the goodness of your heart, am I to assume?” I tossed back, chuckling as a few members of the meeting concealed their own smirks.

Henry gave a sharp glance around the table, before locking his fierce gaze with mine. “I’m making you an offer, Mr. Rosen. I’m willing to buy your business, in exchange for a rather handsome lump sum, in addition to a percentage of future earnings for the life of the business.”

He clicked another button and yet a new slide popped onto the wall. This time, I did gag back a gasp at the figure. Henry grinned like the Big Bad Wolf. He’d huffed, puffed, and was ready to eat. “As you can see, it’s quite a generous offer, and with a percentage of the revenue, it would actually be more…lucrative”

My resolve to hold onto the business wavered for a mere second as the outlandish figure on the wall added onto the other numbers that had already been displayed.

I swallowed hard and reminded myself that the business wasn’t for sale. If I let Henry buy it, and “re-brand” I would lose out on a lot more than just a pile of money. I would be losing out on the legacy that my father left behind for me—and that was way more important than dollar signs with a bunch of zeros.

I met Henry’s gaze. “I’m flattered, Mr. O’Keefe,” as I said his name, it struck me as how twisted the path that had led to that moment had been. We’d gone from brawling in a parking lot over an old plane, to verbally sparring across a board room over the fate of my entire life. “However, the museum is not for sale, and I’m not interested in re-branding at this time. I apologize if I’ve wasted your time.”

Henry’s eyes darkened as he stared me down. His fixed smile twitched.

“Gentlemen, can we have the room?” Henry said, looking around the table, flashing what was left of his tightly wound expression.

Everyone jumped up and hurried away from the room.

When the door closed, Henry dropped his pretense. “I get that you don’t like me. I’m not a fan of yours either, but this is a smart business move for both of us.”

I shrugged. “Well, you already think I’m a bullheaded idiot. I’d hate to disappoint.”

Henry sank into the chair at the head of the table and steepled his fingers in front of his face, taking a moment to consider me. “What is it you want? If not money, and not women, then what?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Dude, are you even for real right now? Fuck…I’ve heard money can blind you, but I didn’t realize it could make you deaf too. I don’t
want
your money. I don’t
need
the leftover hookers you’re looking to retire from your rotation. I can get real women just fine. And money? Hey, I’m cool there too. I’ve never been afraid to get my hands dirty.”

I stood up from the table and leaned forward. “We’re done here. Don’t try to call me again.”

“Before you go…”

I turned back and watched as Henry pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. He opened it with a slow smile and lay out the contents on the table. I shook my head at the pictures of the side of Henry’s face after our altercation in the parking lot. “Your museum is mine, one way or the other, Rosen. Either, you sell it to me, make a mint, and move on. Or, I’ll take these to the police, have you arrested for assault, and then sue you for damages. You’ll have to liquidate just to pay the legal fees it will take to get you through the court process. My team can be…
relentless
.”

He leaned back in his seat, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “The choice is yours. The easy way or the hard way. Surely, even a—how did you put it? Ah, a bullheaded idiot, such as yourself, can see the choice is obvious here.”

Even as an expert poker player, I couldn’t get a read on him. I couldn’t get an answer from my gut to know if he was bluffing or not.

And if I called, and he wasn’t…

But, I wasn’t about to bend over and take it.

“Let me ask you this,” I started, folding my arms over my chest. “How do you think the public would perceive this if word got out that your company was trying to blackmail a decorated, Naval officer, into selling a significant portion of the business his deceased father created? A man who was not only one of the best fighter pilots in the world, but was also awarded the Medal of Honor for his service and bravery during the Viet Nam war.”

I suppressed a smirk as the haughty smile sagged from Henry’s face.

“You may think you have ammo, and hey, maybe you do. But I have something better. With a snap of my fingers, I can rally support that a slime ball mogul like you can only dream about. I’ve given my life to this country, and I can guaran-damn-tee that if I need their support, I’ll get it. So, you can drag me to court, and I’ll drag you through the media circus that nightmares are made of.”

I braced my hands on the table, and leaned in to give him my final piece of advice. “I told you from the moment we met…

Don’t.

Fuck.

With.

Me.”

I shoved off the table and stalked from the room, letting the door slam behind me as the period on the end of my statement.

Chapter Ten

My battle won, I drove back to Holiday Cove, and headed straight to Harvey’s Bar and Grill, my favorite little dive for those nights I needed a bottle of American beer, a pile of deep fried food, and a bevy of hot, semi-drunk women who would be all too happy to take my mind off my troubles.

Or in the case of tonight, celebrate well into the wee hours of the morning.

Walking through the front doors was like a homecoming, and half a dozen cheers landed on me, some from regular patrons in addition to the two bartenders holding down the happy hour crowd.

“Hey Stacy,” I drawled, dropping my ass into a seat at the long bar. Stacy and I had hooked up months back, but she was the type of girl who didn’t care when she didn’t get a call back the next day. She smiled as she set my favorite brew in front of me and I smiled gratefully at her.

“How’s it going, trouble?”

I shrugged as I took a long pull from the ice cold bottle. The foam slid over my tongue and loosened the last hints of stress from me. “Couldn’t be better,” I answered.

“Hungry?”

“Not yet,” I took a look over my shoulder to survey the room. “At least, not for food.”

Stacy scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes. “All right, Rosen. I’ll keep em coming till you find new entertainment.”

“Excellent.” I winked at her and spun all the way around, propping my elbow back on the bar to keep myself steady as I lounged atop the stool, drinking, and checking out the assortment of choices.

A good fuck was exactly what I needed to clear my mind of all the bullshit with Henry.

My attention landed on a top heavy blonde, who was shooting pool with some guy who was clearly several leagues below her.

Not that it stopped him from checking out her tits every time she leaned over to line up her shot.

I smiled and shook my head.

“You took my advice,” a familiar voice purred.

I turned and found myself eye to eye with Talia. She’d slithered into the seat beside me without so much as a sound. I groaned and threw back the rest of my beer. I sat the empty bottle on the bar and signaled to Stacy for a new one.

“What are you doing here?” I looked around the room. “A little out of your neighborhood, wouldn’t you say?”

“I followed you here. From the meeting.”

“I should have known.” I gave a hollow laugh. “Damn. You’re really something else, you know that?”

“Aaron, please—”

I held up a finger, silencing her. “Does Henry know you’re here?”

She shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. We haven’t spoken in…a while.”

“Tragic.”

She scoffed and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. She stared ahead for a moment. When she shot a sidelong glance at me I had to fight off a guilty feeling at the sad look in her eyes. “I’m done with him.”

“I still don’t even know what you were doing with him in the first place. You haven’t exactly been open about that.” I took another swig from the bottle in my hand. “Not that it matters now, I guess.”

She turned in her seat, her knees pressing into the side of my thigh. “I was his…beneficiary…”