Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Aiden fights dirty.”
“Like father, like son.” Billy enters the room with two coffee cups in his hand.
I shake my head. “It’s reckless. This deal is high profile. The leech would have to be really desperate to risk exposure.” Humans cannot discover our existence. On that both vampires and shifters agree. “Did you contact Lucius?”
“Sully did,” Nickel says.
“Let the King of the leeches take care of the Adalwulf’s leech.” Billy crumples his coffee cups and tosses them into the trash can all the way across the room. It’s a display of precision he wouldn’t dare show to a human.
Thinking of humans makes my thoughts return to Madi. What would she do in this situation? “Contact Alastair, too,” I say. “See if there’s anything we can do for Junior.”
Nickel’s brows rise. “And if we can? How will we explain things to his father?”
“I’ll do it myself. I’ll tell him we have a private doctor on hand, one who’s personally helped members of my family. One I trust.”
“The personal touch. An appeal to a father’s heart,” Billy almost sneers. “Not a bad way to sway his opinion towards us.”
“It may or may not win us the deal, but it’s the right thing to do.” In my mind’s eye, Madi is nodding her approval.
“I’ll call him at sundown,” Nickel says. “In the meantime, we have a meeting with a few of the top executives. On the golf course.” He gives me a grin that’s more of a grimace. He knows how much I hate glad handing. “More of the soft touch.”
“Of course.” I hide my sigh. “I’ll change into shorts. Billy, you too.”
Billy groans. “Why me?”
“Because you can bullshit with the best of them.” I stand and glare out at the golfing green. I have a long, interminable afternoon ahead of me, and no Madi here to make things bearable.
Do not think of her, I order myself. The whole reason I’m here in the first place–to stay away from Madi.
When I meet Billy at the golf course, he’s grinning at something on his phone. I’d accuse him of flirting with a fuck buddy on company time, but he only gets that glint in his eye when he’s about to fire someone.
Before I can ask him about it, a group of golfers, a hundred percent of them paunchy, balding human males in their fifties and sixties, see us and raise their hands. These are the Benson executives.
“Here we go,” Billy mutters under his breath. I can hear the derision in his voice, his resentment about having to deal with humans. Then he pastes a congenial expression to his face and strolls towards them.
After a second, I do the same.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Madi
For the rest of the week, I take my place in the empty, echoing C suite and do my work until Jerry comes by to clean. Despite my protests, Tony continues to pick me up from work and take me home. “Mr. Blackthroat’s orders,” he tells me. “Please, Ms. Evans. I need a paycheck, same as you. Let me do my job.”
I don’t want him to be fired on my account, so I ride the limo twice a day. I take my lunches late and use that time to get out of the office and take a stroll around the block.
On Tuesday, I have him give me a ride to La Résistance instead of home, but I ask him to drop me off two blocks away. If Aubrey and the other nonconformist hippies saw me pull up to the cafe in a limo, they’d barf. I’m about to walk in when my personal cell phone rings.
“Ms. Evans? This is Kristi Johnson with the financial aid office at NYU. We’ve spoken before.”
“Yes. Is something wrong?” I try to focus on the here and now. “Did you get the tuition payment?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I saw the payment clear and wanted to let you know that it’s unnecessary. The Brayden Evans account is paid in full.”
“What? There must be some mistake. When did this happen?”
“Last Monday. I initiated a refund to you for the extra payment.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see it. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“It looks like he received a full scholarship. Full tuition for four years. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes,” I answer weakly. “Amazing. I thought he didn’t get any scholarships.”
“This is a new one set up by a generous, anonymous donor. I hope I didn’t spoil an announcement. I thought you knew.”
I give her the gushing gratitude she’s seeking and hang up the phone. My brother and mother haven’t said anything, but why would they?
This scholarship is out of the blue. Could it have come from the same anonymous donor who paid for my prep school tuition and college degree? But that person hasn’t paid anything for Brayden, which is why I always suspected it could be my mystery dad who was too embarrassed to claim me but trying to throw me a bone from afar.