The Billionaire's Triplets(4)

     



 

Tyler stopped talking. Lissa heard the hum of the monitors.

"I appreciate your concern," she said at last.

Tyler spoke, his voice almost sad and accusing. "You know how I feel about you, Lissa."

"The presents you've sent, the flowers, the kids' toys …  I get the message, Tyler." Lissa was suddenly very tired.

"I'm here for you," Tyler said. It was almost an accusation.

Lissa sighed. "Right now I'm stuck here for my babies. Then I need to rebuild my business."

"Is it falling down?" Tyler meant to be funny, but Lissa could her the concern in his voice. She suddenly didn't want to keep things to herself anymore. She didn't love Tyler, but she trusted him. "I don't know, Tyler. Maybe not falling down, but there's a crack in the foundation. I feel like there's something Tina isn't telling me. Something stinks."

Tyler laughed. "You're in the hospital. Everything stinks. Do you want me to poke my nose into things that are none of my business? Would you like me to pay attention to the industry gossip and see what lies and prevarications are floating about that might concern you?"

"Would you?"

"I'd be delighted to. I have a meeting with Tom next week myself. He loves to talk about his deals, who is using whom, and so on, and usually which ones he's screwing. Just let me know how much salacious details appeal to you. I have other friends in low places I can count on to pass along any manner of unreliable rumors and innuendo."

"That's perfect, Tyler. I'll owe you."

"You owe me nothing at all, Lissa. Not one damn thing."

The serious sound of his voice, its flatness, reminded her of the one uncomfortable part of dealing with Tyler Walker. The man was lovely, charming, and successful. He was also madly in love with her, and yet he didn't stir anything even vaguely romantic in her. She'd told him. It wouldn't have been fair to lead him on, and he had decided that it was all right for him to love her unilaterally. "I can live with unrequited love," he told her. "Please just allow me to express it once in a while as a form of self-pity, and we can keep our glorious friendship."

So far they had. Every so often, however, such as now, it made her feel guilty. She took advantage of him. He wanted her to, and would be hurt if she didn't, but the one-sidedness of it bothered her.





CHAPTER THREE


Tina Peters met Tom Acker for lunch at a new French restaurant downtown. It was a perfect spot for her purposes. The place itself was elegant, and well regarded. Best of all, it was high profile. She would be seen having a meal with Acker. That would raise her stock. With a little luck, the society blogs might take note, but that would be icing on the cake.

The timing was perfect. "This Milan deal is in its early stages and it is huge," he told her. "There is money to be made. If you are ready and willing."

Tina was more than ready and willing. She'd worked under Lissa's yoke far too long. Until she went in the hospital, Tina had never gotten the chance to show what she could do. Lissa came up as an analyst. She knew econometrics and detailed analysis-data collection and crunching and interpretation. That was all well and good, but Tina knew how to deal with the players, how to run a company and make it glamorous. A consultancy was supposed to hear what the client said and help them do whatever they wanted. If they wanted analysis, well, economists came cheap. She could hire all she needed to provide those detailed reports clients loved so much.

Lissa never saw the upside potential of getting into more of a partnership with her clients. She liked her independence and working on a variety of jobs. Tina wanted to become integral to a development team and rake in the bucks. Lissa was happy to consult, do her analysis, show the clients better solutions and move on. Sure, she'd be panting to get in on the Milan deal, but then what? For Tina, that wasn't the way to become high profile and make big money, the kind of money someone like Tom Acker had. He was a billionaire on his own with access to even more money.

She'd arrived late and found him waiting for her, dressed in an elegant suit. He was a dashing sixty years old, incredibly fit, with silver hair. When she came to the table he stood to greet her, kissing her cheek and complimenting her on her dress. It was a sexy dress. The nice thing about business meetings in a fancy place like this was that overdressing was acceptable, even encouraged. It was business, but …

She accepted a drink and let him waft their conversation through a few conversational niceties, before getting to the subject at hand. "I doubt you've had a chance to read the prospectus closely," he said, "but I thought some initial talks might be helpful."         

     



 

"Other than the amount of money involved, I don't understand what is special about this project," she said. "It's a business center. You've done several of those."

"I've talked to a couple of the directors, and besides spending their money wisely to get an infrastructure that will serve them for a number of years, there are political issues. The EU is stumbling and they see this center as a way to attract EU businesses and companies who want a presence in the EU. Architecturally and operationally, they want to combine the efficiency of an American high-tech campus with a very European aesthetic. So Lissa's analysis techniques will be important in putting together a coherent bid."

"I can get you any analysis you want, Tom."

"Will Lissa be coming back to work in time?"

"If not, we can get … "

"I really need Lissa. If nothing else, I want to make certain she isn't working for anyone else."

Suddenly the opportunity was there for the taking. She smiled. Willa would like this. "Tom, Lissa has been having a tough time. I wouldn't tell you this if you weren't looking for a fast answer from me, but I don't know if she'll be up to it."

"What happened? I know she suddenly had to take some time off, but that's all."

"She has a problem. Drugs. She's been fighting it, and is out of rehab, but she's in the hospital now."

"I heard she was pregnant."

"That's why she put herself in rehab."

"Oh my God. I didn't know."

"She doesn't want anyone to know. I'm sure you can understand that."

"Yes, of course."

"I'm running our show and I have some fine analysts working under my supervision. If she is up to it, of course she'd run the show."

Tom rubbed his chin. "You know, I'm surprised the press didn't get wind of this. They check the admission records constantly, just hoping some well-known person will check themselves in. It feeds their fires."

Tina shrugged. "Lissa is smart. She used her sister's name-Joan Edwards. That didn't set off any alarms. She's in the hospital under her own name."

"I should send her some flowers."

Tina smiled and reached over to put her hand on his. "I'm sure she'd love that, Tom. Just don't let her know you know about the rehab. She's a fighter, and we need to rally around her to make sure she feels our love right now. She wouldn't want you to know."

"I understand."

As they ate and talked, Tina felt a glow of satisfaction. She'd accomplished what she set out to do. Once the major clients all heard of Lissa's downfall, that would clear the field for her. She was nowhere near close to getting Tom to propose that she work with him directly on this project, but she would nudge it in that direction. She would endear herself to him. He was a good-looking man, and at thirty-five, her relative youth would be enough to appeal to his male vanity. She could see herself associated with him. The man had big coattails, and that was worth a lot. She'd monitor things, see how he played it.

She already knew that if he came on to her, she'd take him up on it. He might be good in bed, and if not, well, he was rich enough for an affair to be quite the adventure of its own. Half the joy of sex was the negotiations-the flirting and courting, deciding when to be cautious and when to spread your legs for the man. Maybe that was even more than half. And the rest was reaping the rewards.



"You aren't looking very cheerful," Joan said.

Lissa opened her eyes and stared at her sister. "Is there something to cheer about? I'll gladly join a cheer if you can provide the reason."

"Well, how about the fact that I'm six months clean and sober? At the meeting this morning they gave me this token and everyone clapped."

Lissa stared at the cheap plastic chip, and the way Joan was looking at it, as if it were made of gold. Lissa's heart swelled with hope at the sight of her sister's pride in her sobriety. Maybe this time it would stick; maybe the dark days would be a thing of the past. "Oh, Joan, that's fantastic. I wish I could hug you."

"All four of you at once?"

"That's right. All four of us want to hug you tight and tell you how wonderful that is and how proud we are." She poked her belly. "Especially whoever is over here. I can feel the applause."

"Seeing as I have you trapped here, tell your sister who the father is. You don't need to keep it a secret, do you?"         

     



 

"It isn't a secret, Joan. It isn't anyone you know, though. I met him at a conference in Switzerland."