The Billion Dollar Bachelor(2)
You have to try. You have to.
Pandora didn’t think, merely reached for the door handle. The chauffeur, too busy looking at his phone, didn’t turn as the door on the street side opened. As she slid over the soft leather and got out of the car.
Her heart in her mouth, skin crawling with the expectation of a hard hand on her arm at any moment, she crossed the road.
Her feet hurt and the tight dress prevented her from walking very fast, but she didn’t stop.
And she didn’t look back.
*
Jax Morrow leaned his elbow on the bar and raised a finger at the bartender. The guy didn’t ask questions, just grabbed the bottle of whiskey Jax had chosen an hour or two earlier and poured. Good man, Tony. Morrow Incorporated could use a guy who knew what he was doing and didn’t ask questions. Perhaps he should hire him.
You’re drunk.
Jax scowled at his whiskey tumbler. That was the problem. He wasn’t drunk enough.
All he wanted was a couple of hours of forgetfulness. Where he didn’t have to think about the fucking article that had splashed the Morrow family’s criminal past all through the media, causing the company’s stocks to fall and investors to make noises about pulling their money.
His first true test as CEO since taking up the reins after his father got too sick to manage. A test he was failing miserably since the resulting scandal was pretty much his fault to begin with.
He’d intended to quietly get rid of Morrow’s last tie to their past, a piece of abandoned docklands real estate that had housed the Morrow family’s old headquarters. But some damn journalist had found out about it, conducting an in-depth “investigation” into the land and its “notorious” history. The fallout being the Morrow family’s name and criminal past once more in the headlines. A past his father and grandfather had spent blood, sweat, tears, and shitloads of money trying to put behind them.
Jax took a sip of his whiskey, staring moodily at nothing, the warmth of the alcohol doing its best to loosen his tight muscles.
He’d done his best to limit the damage, getting Donovan onto it as soon as possible. But his younger brother, who handled all of Morrow Incorporated’s PR, hadn’t been in the job long and had a reputation for not being able to keep it in his pants—his latest escapade, involving a socialite and a certain risqué YouTube video, hadn’t made Jax’s task any easier, either. Or increased investor confidence.
Christ, it was all going to hell in a handcart and for some reason his usual cool, logical approach wasn’t working as well as it should. Which meant he definitely needed a couple of hours off.
Time off? Jesus, you ARE drunk.
And about damn time.
At that point his phone went off.
Jax dug it out of his jacket pocket and glanced down at the screen. Donovan. What the hell was he doing ringing him again? Couldn’t a guy even get a couple of hours off?
Of course you can’t. You’re CEO. You can’t fuck off whenever you feel like it.
Growling, Jax hit the Accept button. “What now? Someone else uploaded their sex tape on YouTube?”
“You sound pissed. Is this a bad time?”
“Anytime you have something to tell me is always a bad time.”
“I can hear a jukebox playing. Please tell me you’re in a bar picking up hot chicks because if anyone could use getting laid, it’s you.”
“None of your fucking business.”
Donovan gave a theatrical sigh. “No need to get feisty. I only want what’s best for you.”
Not in the mood for his brother’s teasing, Jax said tersely, “Get to the point.”
“I have news about Sean.” Donovan hesitated. “Not good news.”
Jax gritted his teeth. As part of his damage-control plan, he’d been trying to track down his missing youngest brother, last seen riding with a motorcycle gang. Not a good look for the Morrow name at this point in time, not with their historic links to organized crime splashed all over the city’s papers. “What is it? Is he dead? In jail?”
“No. He left the gang six months ago and no one’s seen him since.”
“Shit.” This wasn’t exactly helpful. “Do we have any leads?”
“A few. They’re vague but I can follow them up.”
“Do it. I want him found and I want him home.”
“Loving the family spirit. Walmart got any of that lying around?”
Typical Donovan. He never took anything seriously.
“Just find him,” Jax snapped before cuting the call, and stuffing his phone back into his jacket.
Just like he’d brought Donovan back into the fold after his brother had gone off to start up his own PR company, Jax would get Sean back, too. Then, once they were all together again, they’d put the past back firmly where it belonged.