GREED(7)

Besides, he’ll get rich off this merger...Nevermind that he didn’t want the merger in the first place because he thinks your father is a dishonest prick.



And yet, despite the fact that I knew it was wrong, I was going to keep the money because the idea of letting it go was more painful to me than the sin I’d committed against Peter Knight. I was deathly afraid to admit it out loud but I was exactly like my father. And it felt like I could do nothing about it.

The greed was more powerful than the will to do right.

I’ve got to get out of here.





I took my dad’s private jet without asking. I did this often whenever I would do his bidding. He never questioned it. The pilot would return to L.A., and I’d call him back when I needed him.

A limo sat at the bottom of the airstairs. I immediately climbed in just as my cell began to ring. I stared down at the name displayed across its face. My mother. I hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether I should answer it.

Get it over with.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Spence, honey, where in the world have you gone?”

“I’m in Vegas, Mom, what’s up?”

There was a long pause.

She sighed. “I know your daddy can be a little much sometimes, but that’s just his way. He loves you, darlin’.”

I stifled a bitter laugh. “Yeah, okay. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I need a day or two to catch my breath. I’ll be home soon. You won’t even know I was gone,” I charmed.

She sighed yet again. A guilt tactic that usually worked, but my desperation to be away from my father trumped it. “Bridge is very disappointed,” she plied.

I sighed. “Shit. The dinner. Tell her I’ll be home Friday morning. I promise.”

“Fine,” she conceded. Her voice was weak, reminding me of all the times she spoke to my dad the same way.

“I love you,” I added, narrowing my eyes. “I’ve got to go. There’s something troubling in the car with me.”

“Okay, honey, love you too and be careful?”

“I will,” I lied and hung up the phone, laying it in the seat next to me.

I ran my hands over my hair and smoothed my pants before resting my palms on my thighs. I cut and lit the Gurkha HMR cigar, courtesy of the hotel, in the tray next to my seat. I took a long, silent drag, letting the smoke out slowly and filling the car with an intoxicating scent. At fifteen thousand dollars a box, it better taste and smell like fucking heaven.

I settled a little deeper in the leather. “Who are you?” I asked the silent girl on the bench across from me.

She cleared her throat but spoke smoothly. “I’m Piper.”

“Is that your real name?” I asked her, rolling the window down an inch to watch the lights and let a little of the smoke out.

I turned back to her. She was beautiful, without a doubt. Shiny burgundy hair curled to meet her waist, her eyes were brown and bright and her skin was flawless.

“Yes,” she told me, and I believed her.

“Piper, why are you in my car?”

“I was sent.”

“By whom?” I asked, staring straight at her.

“I’m not at liberty,” she explained.

“Ah,” I said, letting it lie. “What are you here for?” I asked, knowing full well what she was there for.

“I’m here to do whatever you want for however long you want.”

“That’s vague,” I replied.

“Consider me your own private attendant.”

“That clears it up, thank you,” I teased with a smile.

She smiled back and it wasn’t all too unpleasant a look. I decided she could stay, but I wasn’t sure what all I was going to do with her. I’d decided to play the night by ear.

“We’ll eat,” I told her.

“Naturally,” she flirted.

I shook my head and smiled at her then rolled down the divider. “Joël Robuchon, please,” I told the driver.





Oh my God, my head. The pounding was intolerable. My eyes felt heavy, too heavy. I began to move my arm, but it felt pinned by something, making me crack open an eye. I glanced to my left. Shit. Shit. Shit. The back of Piper’s head rested on my wrist. I slid my arm out from underneath her but she only groaned, dead to the world, it seemed.

I practically jumped from the bed, staggering back a bit from the pain in my head. Oh, God. Oh, God. What have I done? I asked myself, bringing my hands to my head. Remember. What happened? You went to dinner...

Dinner. It was standard. Steaks, liquor, lots of liquor. More liquor than I thought two people could possibly drink. Random memories of Piper moving to my side of the booth, her hands sliding up my thighs, her tongue in my ear. My stomach lurched and I turned, only to stumble over a random guy sleeping at the bottom of the villa’s master stairs. I felt ill, and not from the liquor. I made my way to the kitchen, meandering around the leeches asleep at my feet. I needed water. I staggered a little, still a bit drunk. I threw open the freezer door and stuck my head inside.