The Billionaire’s Surprise Baby by Lisa Kaatz
Nate
Icame here to close the deal of a lifetime.
Instead, all I can think about is her.
I knew she would be here. I knew I’d have to face her, especially if I’m going to do something as radical as propose a merger with my biggest business partner in the country.
But I didn’t realize how seeing her would feel.
Seeing her on stage like that, it took all of the restraint in my fucking body to tear my eyes away from her and pay attention to the speech. I even took notes just so that I could have an excuse to look down and do something with my hands, uselessly transcribing the words of Jax Adler’s speech with pen and paper just so I could have something else to think about.
Sydney Adler will be the fucking end of me.
I knew that last year when I broke things off. In fact that’s why I broke things off. I can’t have any distractions right now. It’s a critical point in time for the company and all eyes are watching me.
I can’t afford to make mistakes right now.
And Sydney was a mistake.
The best mistake I’ve ever made in my fucking life, but still a mistake.
She distracted me. She got me off of my game. When I was with her I couldn’t think straight. I forgot who I was. I forgot about my goals and desires. Nothing existed except for her.
She consumed me. Her smile. Her laugh. Her voice.
Her body.
I can’t afford a distraction like that now. Especially tonight.
Everything is riding on tonight. My assistant, Jack, thinks I’m insane for pulling this stunt. But I knew that I’d need to grab Jax’s attention when he wasn’t expecting it. He’s not prepared for a talk like this tonight. But I am.
So I have the upper hand.
Or at least I did. Until I saw Sydney.
Even over a year later, she scrambles my fucking brain with just one look.
And now I’ve seen her crying.
Crying.
I can’t handle her when she cries. She knows that. Hell, sometimes I swore she was using that against me. Women crying in general isn’t something I’m fond of witnessing. But seeing her cry is like…it’s like getting your fucking heart ripped out. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s Superman’s kryptonite.
I don’t know what it was that upset her tonight. She wouldn’t say.
Of course she wouldn’t tell me. She hates me. But I want to know.
Even as I enter the classroom and prepare to deal with the death glares from her older brothers, clearly unhappy to see me, all I can think about is Sydney and wonder what it was that made her cry. Or who it was. Maybe it was that jackass who knocked her up and abandoned her.
I’d really like to kick that guy’s ass.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
It’s Pierce. The young one with the loud mouth.
“I’m here to talk to the big boys, Pierce,” I reply coldly. “Run along. I think there’s a swing set outside if you want to go play while the grown ups talk.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he glares at me.
I try not to smile.
Good. Let your emotions get the best of you. That’s exactly what I want.
“Fine,” I say. “I need to talk to the three of you anyway, I guess. Aren’t you all partial owners in Adler Co?”
“Jax is the CEO,” Reid replies. “You already know that, though. What do you want?”
“I know Jax is the CEO,” I say, glancing at him. “But you’re all owners, correct? Shareholders?”
“What do you want, Madison?” Jax asks.
Between us, the photographer is frozen in place, her camera held aloft.
“Could we have a little privacy, please?” I say to her kindly.
“We’re still doing a photoshoot,” Jax says.
“Actually,” the photographer says quickly. “I think I’ve got all the shots I need. It sounds like you guys have a lot to talk about so I’ll just…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, instead scurrying out of the door and slamming it behind her.
Am I really that intimidating?
Sydney sure didn’t seem to think so. Then again, Sydney never found me very intimidating. Even from our very first encounter. Maybe that’s a result of her upbringing. My billions fail to impress her when she is born into a family that has a multi-billion dollar empire of their own.
Fuck. Here I go again thinking about her when I should be concentrating on closing this deal.
“I’m interested to know,” I continue. “About company ownership because I have a proposition for the owners of Adler Co. One that will need your approval before we can move forward.”
“Whatever you’re proposing, I’m not interested,” Jax says.
“You’re going to want to wait for me to finish what I have to say before deciding that,” I warn him.
He crosses his arms. Reid and Pierce glare at me.
“I came here tonight because I wanted to know more about your backstory,” I continue. “And I have to say, Jax, in spite of everything we’ve gone through as rivals in the last five years, I have a lot of respect for you. Always have. But I have even more for you now, knowing your story. I had no idea you had overcome so much.”
“Fuck you.”
It’s not Jax who says this, but Pierce.
I turn to him.
“I’m sorry, did the batteries in your GameBoy die?” I ask. “Don’t worry, the adults will finish this up soon.”
“I’m a partial owner of Adler Co,” Pierce growls. “So unless you want this deal thrown down the drain right now, you better shut your fucking mouth.”
I shrug.
“Like I was saying, when I go into business with someone, it’s important to me to know what the people are like. I like to know peoples’ stories. They can be revealing a lot of the time. They show how a person is wired. How they’re motivated.”
“Please get to the point, Madison,” Jax says. “I’ve got a long drive home and an early meeting tomorrow.”
“Would that be your meeting with Livingston & Sons?”
This gets his attention.
“I know about that meeting, because I have a meeting with them too. Right after yours, actually.”
Jax squares his jaw, grinding his teeth. Nobody gets under his skin like me, and I wonder how much I should press my luck with him. But he’s a smart man. He hates me, sure. But he wouldn’t let his emotions jeopardize the well-being of his business. So I continue as planned.
“Charles Livingston is going to choose me.”
“Is that so?” Jax says. “You seem pretty confident. Why? You have no idea what we’re planning to propose tomorrow and the early bird gets the worm as the saying goes. You’re riding on our coattails yet again. No better than an ambulance chaser or better yet, an actual vulture. You’re trailing behind us and picking over our leftovers because you’re too lazy to go find your own leads and make your own deals.”
That stings. But I don’t let it show. Do I snag clients out from underneath Adler Co? Yeah.
And I’m damn good at it.
“Maybe if you were offering something fresh and new to your clients instead of the same old shit, they wouldn’t be so easy to convince to walk away from you and into a contract with me,” I say.
“You play dirty and I want no part of whatever proposal you came here tonight to make,” Jax says.
“Agreed,” Reid chimes in.
“You’ve had a down quarter,” I say, addressing only Jax. “And you had a down quarter before that. Not by much. You’re not bleeding money by any means and you’re diversifying; that’s smart. But your real estate stream of revenue is dying a slow death, Jax, and it’s because you won’t modernize. I can show you the way into the future. Together, you and I could be unstoppable. I say we merge. We put our heads together. Together, who knows what we’ll manage to accomplish in the next year? Your real estate holdings will be right side up again and you can finally spend your time thinking about more important things. Like innovating in the technology sector. Leave the real estate to me, Jax. You’re not cut out for that world anyway. However, I am. Play to your strengths and delegate the rest.”
“It’s not delegation. You’re proposing that we merge companies. And specifically, that I give you a stake in mine,” he growls. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Madison, but you should know that I don’t back down from a challenge. We’ve had down quarters because we’re trying new things, things we haven’t tried before.”
“Yes and they’re not working,” I point out. “In fact, they’re failing spectacularly. How long can you deal with this pattern before you’re forced to lay off staff in that department? What do you think the Wall Street Journal is going to write about Adler Co when you’re experiencing your first foreclosure?”
“Foreclosure?” Pierce asks, his brow furrowed. “Is that really a possibility? There’s no way.”
“He’s just trying to scare us,” Reid snarls, glaring at me. “We’re nowhere near that point. At worst, our margins are thin, and we take a hit while we correct.”
“Not if I win over Livingston & Sons. You’re counting on closing them. I know you are. You lose them, and you won’t just have a down quarter, Adler. You’ll have years of struggling to get right side up again. And you know it.”
Silence.
They’re thinking about what I’m saying and the dots are finally connecting. It’s coming together. The picture I’ve painted for them, without even having to say it aloud.
They know.
This is checkmate.
This is the end of the road.
The moment that I’ve been waiting for. I want to savor it. Except, Sydney’s tear stained face keeps coming to mind and distracting me from my impending victory.
Fuck.
This is why I had to cut things off.
See? She would have been my ruin. And tonight she’s distracting me with just a few looks and a quick and hostile exchange of words. Distracting me from the deal of a lifetime.
It’s like she puts me under some kind of fucking spell. One that I can’t break unless I ignore her existence and put as much distance between myself and her as possible. If I get anywhere near her orbit, she sucks me in. And the worst part is that I don’t even mind it. She makes me forget it all.
“You’re an animal,” Jax says after a while.
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment,” Jax continues. “I don’t like the way that you do business, Madison. In fact, I don’t like you at all. Thank you for showing up to tonight’s speech. I hope that it was…inspiring, like you said. But the answer is no. And it always will be. Like you, I like to do background checks on the people I’m considering partnering with. And your track record of bullshit is about a mile long and goes back to nearly a decade ago. I know all about you and your family. And I don’t want your name connected to my family in any way. None at all. Do you understand me?”
His mention of my family makes me twitch. My business has nothing to do with them. I made my empire on my own. I walked away from my family years ago and started from scratch, with a shit reputation no less, thanks to my father’s misdeeds.
But that’s beside the point.
Jax is bringing this up to add insult to injury. It’s a cheap shot, one made by a man who is clearly shaken. His low blow is almost like an admission of defeat; he just doesn’t realize it.
“I close Livingston tomorrow,” I say with a thin smile. “Mark my words.”
“We’ll see,” Jax replies. “Until then….goodnight.”
It’s not a request. It’s an order. He’s not in any position to be ordering me around right now, and he should know better considering what is likely to go down tomorrow morning after his pointless meeting with the client.
But I let him have it. I’m tired. And I’ve said everything I needed to say. No matter what kind of front they’re putting on, I can tell that I’ve caught their attention.
And I’ve definitely scared them.
Tomorrow after I land Livingston, they’ll be singing a different tune. I’m sure of it. They’ll be calling me by the end of the week to negotiate. It’s the only way to salvage this wing of their business, and I know Jax Adler doesn’t like to fail.
I start to leave and then stop when I reach the door.
“Oh, another question,” I say. “Are you three the only owners in Adler Co?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Jax says quickly.
At the same time, Pierce speaks up and says: “No. Sydney is a partial owner too. And I know for a fact that hell will freeze over before she’s willing to associate with a man like you, Madison. So get the fuck out of here and never mention this to us again.”
I resist the urge to slam the door on my way out, knowing that it’s possible that Sydney and her sleeping baby would be on the other side and wouldn’t appreciate the loud noise.
But they’re gone. The hallway is empty and dark, with janitorial staff sweeping the floors and collecting trash from the cans.
On the drive home I replay my conversation with Jax again and again like a sports rerun, imagining the ways I can improve the way that I approach these discussions.
I was confrontational on purpose. Hostile, even. So that later when they come back around to discuss the deal, I’ll seem merciful and generous, saving their asses from defaulting on several of their buildings and ensuring that their employees from the real estate department get to keep their jobs.
It’s all part of the plan, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little to be painted as the villain time and time again in the Madison versus Adler saga. To be hated and to be seen as a “vulture” as Jax put it.
And lastly, he brought up my family.
My fucking family has nothing to do with my business. Not anymore. My fists ball at my sides. I’ve been trying to prove myself for years now, and everywhere I go, the mistakes of my family follow.
But when I get home my thoughts turn to Sydney. I pull the used tissue from my pocket. It’s crinkled and smeared with mascara and eyeliner all over. I should throw it away but for whatever reason, I set it on top of my night stand as I climb into bed.
I spend the blurry minutes before falling asleep thinking not about the business deal, but about Sydney and her red-rimmed eyes. I wonder about the man who knocked her up and left her all alone with the baby. I feel white hot rage whenever I think about him, imagining this nameless, faceless man in my mind and thinking about how satisfying it would feel to put my fist through his face.
To show him what happens when he hurts Sydney.
My girl Sydney.
Mine.
* * *
“As you can see,you only stand to gain from the way we distribute profits and risk. We’ll front the costs of the renovations, we’ll provide the contractors and the insurance. All of the risk is on us, and you only see a bill from us after we’ve already leased the new and improved building to a willing buyer. When we’re done with the Heron property, bidders will be lining up down the block to take a tour and sign a lease.”
“I’m still not sure about this,” John Livingston frowns at the draft of the renovated building laid out between us on the polished oak table. “Renovations? Others are saying that we need a complete tear down.”
“This is a historical building,” I say. “Preserving its integrity is important. It has character and history. A tear down wipes the slate clean and I can see how to some, that would be very appealing. You get to start from the ground up - quite literally - and shape the building to your exact vision. But sometimes it's best to leave things as is. We’ll still gut it from the inside except for the grand entrance and a few of the staircases. It’ll look like a new building from the inside.”
“But not from the outside,” Livingston points out.
“The architectural style of this building isn’t something that can be recreated,” I reply. “Preservation is essential, sir. Anybody can build a brand new high rise with modern architecture. But this building was erected in 1898, and its structure hasn’t been altered since the mid 1940s. It’s a time capsule and an ode to the late nineteenth century, the industrial revolution, while still having traditional elements such as the columns out front, the arcs over the windows, the grand entrance…”
“Yes, you mentioned the grand entrance several times already.”
I take a breath.
“You hired me for a consultancy because you wanted my unique take on this,” I say, leaning over the drafting papers. “This is my unique take. Preserve the value in this property - the real value. You have a historic building that is in near pristine condition for its age. Do a few cosmetic repairs to the outside, gut the inside, and add a rooftop deck to take advantage of the best damn view of the Central River that money can buy. This building is unique. It’s advantages are unique too. I can deliver a solution custom tailored to your property.”
Livingston frowns.
“Or,” I continue. “You can go with a company like Adler Co, who only know how to do things one way. That’s why they want to tear down this building, sir. That’s why they want a complete reconstruction. They’re a one trick pony. They can do modern architecture very well, I’ll give them that. The Priscilla Music Hall is a work of art, for instance. Gorgeous modern architecture. Sleek and elegant and perfect for that part of town. But that’s all they know how to do. And it’s not the right fit for this property, sir. This property is already a work of art. It just needs some…TLC.”
“TLC?”
“Tender loving care,” I grin. “Heron property is your baby, is it not?”
I already know the answer to this question. Livingston has referred to the old Heron building as “his baby” multiple times in media papers and in my various consultations with him and his staff.
“Of course,” Livingston says.
“Then join me in appreciating it for what it is,” I say. “For what it’s meant to be. Steel high rises and floor to ceiling glass windows are wonderful, when the situation fits. This is not that situation. Preserve the Heron building and let me take it into the 21st century for you, sir. You won’t regret it.”
The old man scratches his chin, considering my words.
“You know,” he says. “I met with Adler this morning. Smart man. Knows his stuff. He says he can make me rich.”
“I’m sure he can,” I reply.
“I left that meeting feeling positive that I would choose him. But these drawings…”
He gestures to the paper between us.
“Can you really get this done in under a year?”
“Sir, I’ve been doing this for nearly a decade,” I say. “Most people couldn’t get this done. But I have contacts in this industry that most don’t. I know the best contractors, painters, sculptors - ”
“Sculptors?” he asks.
“The exterior molding needs reconstruction,” I explain. “You can’t print that kind of detail with a machine, sir. It needs to be handcrafted.”
“I see.”
“I know the people who can get the job done,” I say. “And I have the business knowledge to get them to do it on your timeline. That’s what I’m saying. You’re not going to find that anywhere else.”
“Adler Co does his work in house,” he says. “I don’t like your talk of contractors…they’re fickle. They deliver things late.”
“Not mine, sir,” I say. “And the reason I contract them rather than hire full time is because they’re the most highly sought after talent in the country. They follow the money. They go where the work is. If I retained these people full-time, I’d be broke. And I don’t have enough work for them full time. Unlike Adler Co, I don’t do my work in bulk. I take on one or two clients per year and I give them my undivided attention. And I hire the right man for the job, when the job needs doing. No downtime. No fleet of general contractors on standby to get the job done quick and dirty. I hire craftsmen sir. Artists. Isn’t that what your baby deserves?”
We’ve hit that critical moment where it’s sink or swim. I know it. I can either hook him now and get him to say yes, or he can wave me off and tell me he needs to think about it. I don’t want that. I want him to say yes today. Now. Because as soon as he does, I take my victory to Jax Adler and force his hand with the merger.
“Sir,” I say. “Do you want Heron to look like every other new construction in this city? Or do you want to stand out?”
“To stand out, obviously,” he huffs.
“Then hire me,” I say.
I slide a contract between us on the table.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold pen.
“Don’t make me regret this, kid,” he says as he signs at the bottom.
“I won’t, sir.”
