But the empire-building continued. She started a magazine, and then a website, doing live cam work, and judging from the number of subscribers, was making quite the pretty penny. One million subscribers paying fifty bucks a month … that’s fifty million per month. Can you believe it? Fifty million per month. My little girl hit the big time, albeit in an x-rated industry, but success is success, don’t let people talk you down.
So yeah, Cleo is a big-time player in this field now and Hustler is right up her alley. She’d know how to turn it around, how to find new advertisers, how to beef up the content to appeal to new subscribers. She’d be at the auction for sure … and I’d be waiting.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cleo
The bankruptcy auction was packed. I strode into the conference room, accompanied by my lawyer and my banker. All eyes were on me because most of the people in the room were old white guys and I was the only young, appetizing female in the bunch.
Not to mention I’d done myself up to look like a porn star that day. Sure I could have gone in wearing a boring business suit but might as well let these guys see what they’d come to see. I wore a long red dress, clingy with a deep vee, with sparkly red heels, my hair swept into an updo. Totally inappropriate for a business meeting, but competition beware … I was dead serious about getting Hustler.
As we took our place at the conference table, Ben leaned over solicitously to pour me some water.
“Thanks hon,” I purred, trailing a long red nail up his sleeve. Both Stuart and Ben were so silly. They were professionals, a lawyer and a banker, both married with small children, and yet whenever I saw them they leered at me despite the fact that I was paying their salaries.
I used it to create an image though. I wanted the men in this room to know that I had two admirers, two dudes with stiffies who were willing to throw their wedding bands into the Hudson River at the crook of a finger. With a sly smile, I let a hand trail up each of their thighs, skimming their bulges, much to the shocked gasps of the men around us. Hmm, just like being in the Donkey Club again.
“Thanks boys,” I purred again. “I’m ready to get started, is everyone else?”
There was a hushed silence before a deep voice rang out across the conference table.
“Ms. Jones,” the voice rang out. “I believe we know each other.”
I gasped, whipping my head around to pinpoint the source of the voice. Holy shit, it was Daddy! Drake had never looked so good before. He was dressed in a navy blue suit, sharply intelligent and commanding even among this group of sharks.
“Daddy?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
The hubbub started with my use of the word “Daddy.”
“What’s going on? You guys know each other?”
“You’re related? Hey, is there going to be collusive bidding? That’s not fair.”
I got up slowly from my seat and walked over to where Drake sat. He was like a king overseeing an empire. On his side of the room were loads of boxes, paralegals scurrying to and fro, junior bankers and lawyers ready to do his bidding. I felt downright unprepared with my team of three.
“Daddy,” I said slowly. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
Drake stood up, unwilling to put on a show in front of these white-collar douches. “Let’s grab a conference room,” he rumbled, guiding me to a nearby break-out area.
As soon as the door shut behind him, he spun around to look at me. And I mean, really look. His eyes swept up and down my figure, taking in the sinuous curves, the clingy fabric, the way my breasts pushed out against the deep décolletage. I saw a gleam in his eye as his gaze lingered on my nipples, taking in the way they pushed out like pebbles, hardening beneath his gaze.
“Daddy,” I breathed. “Why are you here?” I asked again.
“Cleo,” he drawled lazily. “You know that I’m the head of a news conglomerate, that we purchase assets all the time. The better question to ask is why you’re here?”
I was about to blabber some nonsensical response, throw myself into his arms, but stopped myself just in time. After all, I wasn’t a naïve eighteen year-old anymore. I was a career girl, someone who made her own money, charted her own path. Nothing I did was illegal, so might as well own it.
“I’m a businesswoman now,” I said slowly, looking up at him. “I’m not who you think I am.”
And the man just chuckled low in his chest. God, he was so masculine, so tempting, so alpha, that I wanted to jump him right then and there, our past be damned.
But right, our past. A shaft of pain lanced through my heart again. We’d been together for two sweet weeks, sampling each other’s bodies, him taking my virginity. And he’d been seeing someone else on the side the whole time and gotten her pregnant, no less. God, the baby was probably three or four already, walking and talking and ready for pre-school. My heart crumpled at the thought.