Page 52 of Damaged Billionaire Daddy
“Off-limits,” I repeated.
His voice went up several decibels as he yelled some more. “Yeah, I know. Your commission. I’ll send the money. Check your account.”
There was some muttering on the other end of the line, then Delard’s gruff voice. “All right, Richie, but I don’t know if I can do business with you if this is the way you behave. That is one juicy fish you just let go.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “But you don’t know the half of it. Just . . . let it go, Delard. Not all the fish are keepers.”
After he hung up, I slumped in my chair. This had been an expensive month. First, the wedding, then the impromptu trip to the cabin, and now — the biggest blow of all — giving Delard a hefty commission on a deal we didn’t close.
“Fine way to do business, Richard,” I muttered to myself.
Delard had been my business advisor since I drew my first NFL paycheck. He was the reason my fortunes had grown steadily all the while I was an active player, and his advice about insurance and fluid assets was the reason I was now a billionaire.
But I didn’t keep all that much in my cash accounts. I usually reinvested most of the interest which is the biggest reason I hit the billionaire mark a year after my injury.
My dividends wouldn’t pay out until the end of the quarter. I could go back to my apartment in New York. After all, I’d only been in California to attempt to close a deal on the Quinn vineyard. Maybe I should drive up to the cabin and hide my sorry ass from the rest of humanity.
“Yeah, I could do that,” I said. “I could get a lot of thinking done. It will be hard . . .”
I let that thought trail off. It would be hard because Kandis wouldn’t be there and everything she had touched would remind me of her. Maybe it would be smarter just to go back to New York and rattle around in my apartment — where everything reminded me of Kayla because she’d helped me decorate it.
“You are one sorry motherfucker, Richard Lane,” I said aloud to the empty motel room. “What is it with you and women?”
Chapter twenty-two
Kandis
Mimi held me while I sobbed out my abject misery. Then I staggered away from her and was sick in the flower bed. It was probably good that they were just leaves and stalks at this season.
Then Mimi and Pops were there, one on either side of me, guiding me to where I could sit on the step and catch my breath. Mimi went inside and brought back a ginger ale.
She sat down beside me while Pops went off to do something — maybe to vent his anger, because I could tell that he was still hot on my behalf.
After a little while, Mimi said, “Kandy, he brought you some presents.”
I nodded. “I saw. It’s what he does. He throws money around and thinks it will make everything better.”
“Does it?” Mimi asked. “Did he seem to feel better after the wedding you went to?”
I began to laugh. “Well, no. After he delivered his ‘I got a girlfriend’ message by parading me around, he couldn’t waitto get out of there. But I think he was pleased with himself for the scene he nearly caused.”
“Did he try to stop the wedding?”
I thought about that. “No, not really. He made some mean remarks that might have even been true. He likes to be the bare-back rider, so to speak. Dumb me, I didn’t even try to make him use a condom.”
“Oh, Kandy,” Mimi said, “I should have talked with you more, should have realized your mom wouldn’t tell you anything useful.”
“And I probably wouldn’t have listened to her if she had,” I replied, scrubbing at my face with the heel of my hand. “Anyway, he can be very persuasive.”
“Oh, I’m sure he can,” Mimi said. “Let’s look at what he left for you anyway.”
“I’d really rather not,” I said listlessly. “I want to go lie down for a while, then call Uncle George to see how Mom is doing.”
With that, I walked into the house and go to my room. I flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My life was completely and totally fucked up. Mimi and Pops would give me a job, and we would all love the baby.
But the poor little thing wouldn’t have a father, just a grandpop. Then there was Mom. Would she have gotten sick if I’d gone back to her place instead of running away to California?
I took out my cell phone and dialed Uncle George’s number.
