Ambition 2: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Driven) (6 page)

F
or the rest
of the month, things fell into a good regularity. I would have said comfortable, but the training program that I’ve been on was anything but comfortable. I didn't even have the benefit of using the clearly awesome bathtub that Sophie, Mark and Tabby could use, restricted to only using the shower after my workouts when they invited me to eat with them. I measured time not so much by the calendar, but by the size of Sophie's belly, which went from flat to definitely starting to bulge slightly. I wondered just how big she would get before finally having her baby.

The month was basic training, plain and simple, and I loved it. Sounds weird, but I did. Four days a week, Sophie put me through workouts that left me aching and nearly staggering back out to my car every time. At least once a week, but often twice, either she or Mark would lead me through martial arts practice. I thought I knew a good amount after my years of boxing and the things I'd picked up in the streets. That notion was quickly put to rest after having a woman nearly five months pregnant hand me my ass. Admittedly we weren't going full strength, but still.

Working with Mark was a lot rougher, a lot more full contact, but also more fun. I didn't have to hold back with him at all, and in fact I couldn't. If I did, I was more than likely to end up twisted into a very uncomfortable position with my toe trying to be jammed into my ear. I think Mark enjoyed it too, since I was big enough he could go harder than he did with Sophie.

Best of all was that all this training with Mark and Sophie was that I was able to spend time with Tabby. There was a brimming sexual tension between us, but for both of us, it was an undercurrent. Part of it was that I was so damn physically exhausted that I doubt I could have had sex even if Tabby had danced naked through the gym after a workout. Instead, we found more and more in common, which was unexpected considering the difference in our backgrounds.

I think the reason we connected was that we both were orphans in our own way. Towards the end of the month Tabby told me about the way her parents had reacted to her sexuality, basically making her emotionally an orphan from her teen years. Afterwards I had excused myself to go vent my frustration, Sophie finding me twenty minutes later in the gym, beating the hell out of a punching bag. "At least you're doing better than Mark last time he got this pissed off," she noted. "He didn't wear any gloves."

I ignored her, pounding away until the tide of my anger subsided. "Why?"

"Why what?" Sophie replied. "Are you asking why he didn't wear gloves? Why I'm here? Why the Spartans are only two and two despite having one of the better defenses in the league this year?"

"You know what I mean," I replied, peeling the gloves off and throwing them across the gym in a final spurt of defiance. "That someone like Tabby is left feeling as alone and abandoned as I did? Fuck, I can at least understand if not like my feelings, my mother was a drug addicted fuckup. But to do that to your own flesh and blood while they live with you? How could someone do something so shitty to someone so adorable?”

"Welcome to the question I've asked myself for most of the time I've known her," Sophie replied, still leaning against the wall with a bemused expression on her face. She did that a lot when she was in her teaching mode, like the answer was clear, but she was still taking the time to explain it anyway since I wasn't connecting the dots. "I still don't have an answer, but I don't think one exists. It doesn't stop me from trying to answer it though. You know what I do instead?"

"What?" I asked, wiping my face with a small towel that had been hanging on the wall. I realized it was one of Sophie's and folded it up. "Sorry. I'll wash it."

She waved it off. "Forget it. But what I do is, I love Tabby for who she is. If you want my advice, do the same. Not that you aren’t already. But her own family was stupid, and she can’t take more heart break.”

I nodded firmly, which said all that needed to be said.

Sophie left, and I followed back into the main house after putting Sophie's now dirty towel into the laundry. Tabby met me near her room, taking my hand. "I didn't mean to upset you," she said, giggling when I pulled her into a hug. "Although I guess you weren't that upset."

"Never could I be upset with you," I answered, inhaling her clean, subtle scent. She didn't wear perfume, she didn't need it. "I just don't want to see you in pain. Ever."

Tabby let go of me and stood back. "You know you can't prevent that. Nobody can."

"Doesn't mean I don't want to try," I said. "I just want to see you happy, no matter what."

Tabby stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed me. I was surprised at first, then kissed back, her lips and tongue soft and wonderful. I wanted her so badly, but I was already exhausted even before my burst on the bag. Despite her body being pressed against me, despite the soft swell of her breasts against my chest and her hips pressed against me, my body wouldn't respond. I was so damn exhausted. We parted, and she chuckled when she saw my hangdog expression. "Don't worry about it," she said, rubbing her hands over my chest. "First of all, you're drained from today. You've been going through so much stress physically and mentally I'm surprised you even think of sex with me."

"I dream of you more often than you'd believe," I said honestly. I shook my head, realizing how I sounded. "Wow, that was creepy. Not over obsessed stalker type at all."

Tabby laughed and kissed my chest through my shirt. "That's okay, I know that what's here is clean enough. Listen, let me talk to Sophie and Mark. You don't have anything late night tomorrow, do you?"

"No, why?" I asked, a thread of hopeful anticipation making my pulse quicken. Or maybe it was just feeling Tabby so close to me in the privacy of the hallway, knowing her bedroom was so close I could imagine it.

"Because tomorrow is date night, just you and me Councilman McCaffery. And not here at Mount Zion, either. We've had enough chaperoned dinners with the rest of my real family. We're going to go to a perfectly normal restaurant down in your district, and have a perfectly normal, public date night. If it gets out that you've got a girlfriend, I'm more than happy to be known as that too."

It was the first time Tabby had ever brought up the public potential of our relationship, and it touched me. "I'd enjoy that very much. Although the cynical part of me, or perhaps the side that's just gotten used to being a politician, is thinking about the potential press situation with that."

"Oh, it can be spun the right way, very romantic like," Tabby chuckled, kissing my neck again. She knew just where to kiss, and I felt a surge between my legs that I didn't think I'd have the energy for. It was good to have this side of her back. “We just need to keep a good public relations person on speed dial."

I could barely muster a reply as Tabby's tongue traced my neck and jaw, sending arrows of arousal through my body and straight to my cock, which surged to full hardness in my pants. She giggled when she felt it pressing against her hip, and reached down with her right hand to cup me, rubbing slowly. "My, you just might be Superman," she cooed, looking up at me. "Because your recovery is amazing, and I'm definitely feeling a man of steel."

"That's your doing," I said, biting my lip as she squeezed and massaged. "You're so sexy you could probably bring someone back from the dead with a kiss." My god, I sounded so corny with that one, but Tabby didn’t seem to bat an eye at it.

"Well then, tomorrow maybe you can show me how far back from the dead you are," she said, letting go of my cock and kissing me again. I was glad, because if she hadn't, I most likely would have come in my pants, she was that arousing.

I think my hardon finally relaxed somewhere near downtown, but I wasn't sure.

T
he next morning
, I was in my office when Gwen came in. "You're going to love this."

"What?" I asked, looking up from the document I'd been reading, a statement on recent street repairs in Filmore Heights. I had to grin as some of the damage caused was the side effect of my earlier activities. Despite the price tag, after a month of training with Sophie and Mark I was feeling the itch to get back out there.

"You've been sued," Gwen replied, handing me the file. "I just had to sign with the process server."

"You're fucking kidding me," I replied, taking the folder. I opened it up, feeling my blood pressure rise. "You've got to be goddamn kidding me."

"Nope," Gwen said. "They're saying that you and MJT used illegal means when you divvied out the contract on the HVAC for the first center."

I could feel my rage building, and nodded. "Thanks. Let me give MJT a call, see if they have a legal team working on this already."

"You want me to handle it, Boss?" Gwen asked. "Vanessa and I know some law groups we could get ahold of if we need."

I shook my head. Law offices were the last thing I needed involved with all of this. There were just too many potential problems with that, considering what MJT really was. "I'll talk with Miss Williams directly, but thanks. Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day?"

"Up until three. You've got your meeting with the Mayor then."

I'd have to take it. "Thanks."

I dialed up Tabby, indigestion growing in my stomach. She picked up, and I could hear it in her voice. It was the shakiness, the insecurity that I hated to hear. "I take it you got the paperwork too?" I started, sighing.

"Yeah," she replied, still shaky, but handling it. "Pressman Contractors is suing MJT with you as a co-defendant. Fucking Pressman."

"I know," I said. "Tabby, I know this is a hard thing to ask, but does MJT have a law firm it works with that can handle this?"

"I'll have to talk with Marcus, although most likely Sophie will know more," she replied. I noticed she did that whenever she was referring to Mark in terms of business. Any other time, he was Mark to her. "But I think so. They might not be in the city, but I'll have to check. Patrick, you know this has nothing to do with the contract."

"I know. We can talk about it tonight, if you want. Although I guess this ruins our date, doesn't it?" I said, shaking my head.

Tabby's answer spoke to me about her strength and how hard she was trying to get past her traumas. "Fuck no. You and I are going out, you're going to take me to some decent little eatery in the your neighborhood, and I promise you we're going to have a good time. We'll see what happens after that."

"I can dig it," I replied. "Listen, we'll get this taken care of. I know that."

"Okay," Tabby said, her mood brightening. "So, any plans for tonight?"

"Well, my neighborhood isn't exactly known for the high quality of its restaurants, so don't expect five star steakhouses," I laughed, "but yeah. What do you think of Cuban food?"

"I can do that. I assume jeans and a sweatshirt are better than a suit and skirt?"

"For sure. Okay, let me make a few calls, see what I can accomplish work wise before tonight."

"Okay. And Patrick?"

"Yes, Tabby?"

"I'm so looking forward to this,” she said after a moment, and I knew she was struggling to say something different. Fucking Pressman and his fucking games.

"Me too."

Tabby hung up, and I sighed, not looking forward to the next call I had to make. I dialed up Mark's cell phone, the one he'd given me for emergency matters. True to the nature of the number, he picked up after only one ring. "What's up, rook?"

"I really wish you'd stop calling me that," I said, a smile still coming to my face. "Although I guess it's better than amateur. Listen Mark, I need to talk with you. Tabby's going to be on the phone with you in about two minutes, and there's information that you and I need to discuss about it that she doesn't know."

"Are you telling me this because you don't want Tabby to know, or because she isn't in a need to know position?" Mark asked.

I chose my words carefully. "A bit of both. It has to do with my old life, and a connection to the Knave. Think you can get some time away from the house for a lunch?"

"Not at City Hall, I hope," Mark replied. "This scar isn't that much of a disguise."

"No, I was thinking the Park," I replied. "It's a public enough place, we could both blend in."

"Deal. One hour?"

"Deal. And Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Uhm, I'm going to need your advice on this one, I've let it go a while without bringing it up, and I don't know how to do it right," I said, feeling my face burn. "Jesus, I didn't plan this at all. Just, there's shit in my past."

"Shit that is hard to bring up to special people," Mark completed. "Yeah, that's a challenge. Okay. One hour."

I hung up my phone and sat back, just thinking. Fucking Scott Pressman.

I made it to the Park with a few minutes to spare, and went over to the bandstand that Mark had texted me to meet him at. In my hands was a bag from Burger King, a guilty pleasure that I hadn't indulged in all month. I saw Mark coming and waved, having ditched my work sport coat for a Spartans hoodie. We looked like two normal working class guys having lunch, with him wearing a jean jacket along with black denim. He was carrying a plastic bag that when he got closer I saw was from a sub shop nearby. "Sophie's going to want to kick your ass for that," he greeted me with as we slapped hands. "But I won't say anything."

"Thanks. Honest though, I haven't done this in weeks," I replied. I took out my burger and began. "So Tabby talked with you?"

"Don't worry about that," Mark replied, "I've got a Boston law firm that I've used for a lot of my contract stuff before. They're good enough to keep anybody that Pressman can hire off our tails, and just shady enough that they know how to protect our ass. But I doubt that's the reason you called."

I shook my head after taking a huge bite of my burger. Cheese, mustard, pickles, mayo..... pure heaven. "I know Pressman," I said bluntly, "or at least I did."

Mark nodded slowly and started on his lunch. "I figured as much. Some of the things you've said, you have more knowledge on the Knave than what a simple former bartender would. How do you know him?"