The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town (92 page)

              “Claire, come and escort Ms. Gillie out please. I've got a lot of work to get on with, so make it snappy.”

              “No?” repeated Jade, still shocked.

              “No,” answered Huxley. “That will be all, Ms. Gillie. Goodbye.”

              The door opened behind her, and she heard Claire's high heels clicking on the floor as she entered.

              “Come with me please, Ms. Gillie,” said the blonde.

              As if through a nightmare, Jade turned around and started walking out of the office. Behind her, muffled and distant, she heard the thuds and thumps of Brenton Huxley hitting his boxing bag again. She turned around to steal one last glance at him. His muscles were rippling as he struck the bag, and sweat flew off of his hard body as he moved with power and pace. His medium-length blonde hair flew about his head as he ducked, bobbed and weaved.

              He was a natural fighter, it seemed. Powerful, swift, agile and merciless.

              Oh yes. Merciless.

              Fighting back tears, and trying to force the raw physical attraction she felt for the man out of her mind, Jade Gillie left his office and heard the door close behind her.

CHAPTER 2

Brenton raised his fist to strike the bag again, but paused before delivering a right cross.

              This was annoying.

              He grabbed a silk handkerchief, Louis Vuitton of course, from his desk and mopped the sweat off of his brow, chest and shoulders, and then walked over to the window to stare out over the New York skyline. It was always a breathtaking sight, especially at night with the lights of the city spread out like a million stars before him.

              Since his meeting with Jade Gillie earlier, he had hardly been able to get her off of his mind. He didn't know why, or how this had happened. Her proposal had been good, he had to admit. He was a shrewd thinker, and it was rare for a good idea to escape his attention. Her plan to bring in the new Chinese solar technology was, in his mind, a sure winner. In fact, there was no question about it; whoever invested in that tech and brought it into the USA was sure to be the next Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.

              Of course, Brenton didn't care about the money; he had more than enough of that to last him until the planet itself got burned up by the sun in a few million years, if he somehow found out a way to cheat age and death, of course. Fame; well, he had some of that as well. He'd been on the cover of Forbes, and the company he owned and the story of his meteoric rise to billionaire level had been featured in The Economist. He'd been interviewed on television shows, had made friends with Hollywood movie stars and the top pop stars in the world. Hell, he'd popped a bottle of champagne at ten thousand feet in a helicopter ride with two former US presidents.

              No, it wasn't her ideas, or the promise of fame and riches that came with them that had been occupying his thoughts this whole evening – it was
her
, herself. Ms. Jade Gillie.

              There was something
about
her that he hadn't been able to get off of his mind. She was attractive enough, it was true. And he did have a preference for darker women – he always had, since he had been a boy – and he had to admit that when he had first seen her walk through his office doors that afternoon, his eyes had roamed quite freely over the sensuous curves of her body, revealed so tantalizingly through her sleek business suit.

              She had a nice ass.

              No, scratch that – a
great
ass. It was true; he couldn't deny it. And he found his thoughts wandering, and wondering – wondering how that ass would look clad only in a G-string. And then his thoughts began wandering even further, trying to picture the curve of her hip, firm and round, and the soft, flat belly, up which his hands would roam, stroking that milk chocolate skin with gentle fingertips, heading up towards those round, pert breasts that he could cup in his big, powerful hands as he-

              “Sir?”

              Brenton was snapped out of his daydream by Claire, his secretary.

              “Am I disturbing you, sir?”

              “No, no, come on it.”

              “Sorry sir, it just looked like your mind was on something.”

              “It was, but it wasn't anything important.”

              “I've finished compiling all the files for the Fuller case.”

              “Great! I'll get to work on those, thank you.”

              “Right now?”

              “Right now.”

              Claire looked a bit worried, and it seemed that she was about to say something, but she stopped herself, and turned around to walk out of the office.

              “Is there something else you wanted to say, Claire?”

              She turned around.

              “Sir, it's almost midnight, and you're going to keep working? I know you're something of a workaholic, but these last few nights you've really been burning the midnight oil, and starting again so early in the morning, and, to be honest, I think it's unhealthy. You're hardly getting any sleep, and you're putting in these eighteen hour days-”

              Brenton smiled, but held up a finger to silence her.

              “I appreciate your concern, Claire, I really do, but you don't need to worry about me. I enjoy this work, I really do. I wouldn't be taking on this case if I didn't want to. And listen hon, you don't get to the top – and stay at the top – by working like an average Joe, starting at nine and signing off at five. That's not how I work, and you know it. You go on home and get yourself some shuteye. Don't worry about me.”

              “I can't help it sir. You're such a wonderful man, and I know you've got huge reserves of strength and energy, but I feel like you're pushing yourself too hard.”

              Brenton smiled.

              “You're a lovely person Claire, and as I said, I really do appreciate your concern for me. I'm tough as old nails though – just like my old man was – and I'm determined to get this Fuller case sorted by tomorrow morning. Even if that means staying up for the next six hours to do it.”             

              “Just promise me you'll get some rest tomorrow, okay? After the case is done.”

              Brenton nodded and shot her a warm grin.

              “I promise. Now go on, you go and get yourself some beauty sleep. Not that you need it!”

              Claire blushed and grinned.

              “Thank you sir.”

              “Good night Claire.”

              “Good night.”

              He watched her turn around and close the door behind her, leaving him alone in his vast office. He walked over to the suit of armor that stood next to his cherry wood cabinet, which contained priceless Chinese antiques from the Ming Dynasty. As he often did, he flipped open the visor of the steel helmet – the suit of armor was a genuine sixteenth century artifact, worn by one of the conquistadors who had conquered the Aztec empire – and he imagined himself inside the armor, armed with a sword, lance and crossbow, riding out on his horse into unknown lands.

              “That's where I should have been,” he murmured to himself. “I should have been born then. I could have conquered half of the world.”

              He closed the helmet's visor and walked over to his desk, where Claire had left the files on the Fuller case. There was a lot of work to be done tonight, and he needed some energy.

             
Jade... Jade Gillie.

             
There she was again, in his thoughts, coming in uninvited like a burglar in the night. Was it her eyes that he couldn't forget? Those deep, dark liquid pools of chestnut that had sparkled so radiantly under his subtly-placed, designer light array?

              He shook his head, trying to get the thoughts of her out of his head. Love at first sight was a myth, a lie made up by fools, he thought. Love itself was a lie. At least, that's what he knew now. Once he had believed in it. Once he had almost sacrificed everything for love.

             
Everything. I almost gave up everything I had, everything I wanted, everything I owned – just for her.

              For her.

              And then... She betrayed me.

              She proved that love was a lie. Now I know it, and I've never fallen for that lie again.

             
Brenton forced the thoughts of Jade out of his mind. He had work to do, lots of important, high profile work, and he couldn't afford to be wasting his time thinking about a woman he'd only met once, for a few minutes.

              “Alright, time to get started on this Fuller case,” he said to himself. “First though, some energy for the hours ahead.”

              He pressed a button on the touch screen on his desk

              “Speed dial, Vinzani's Cold-Pressed Organic Veggie Juices. Proceed?”

              “Proceed,” he said to the computer.

              He paced back and forth as he listened to the dial tone as it rang. Eventually a man picked up the phone, speaking with a rough Brooklyn accent.

              “Vinzani's Juices, how can I help ya?”

              “This is Brenton Huxley. I need three of your green energy blends delivered to the Goldman building, sixty-seventh floor, right away.”

              “I can make the juice, Mr. Huxley, but I can't deliver now. It's after midnight, and I'm the only one manning the place for the late night shift. If you can send someone to get it...”

              “I'll come myself. Have it ready in twenty minutes.”

              “Sure thing, pal.”

              Brenton pressed the button to end the call. He was a bit annoyed that he couldn't get the juice delivered at this hour, when he was in such a rush to get started on the Fuller case, but at the same time he supposed it was good to be able to get out of the office for a few minutes, to get a quick breather in and get some fresh air.

              He grabbed the keys to his Maserati GranCabrio Sport – one of the many vehicles he kept here, in the parking garage of this building – and headed out the door.

CHAPTER 3

Jade wondered whether she should really have another drink. It was past midnight, and she theoretically had another long day of work tomorrow – although the prospect of facing that day seemed like something she really wasn't too keen on dealing with. After today's crushing defeat, it didn't seem like it was worth even carrying on.

              Brenton Huxley and his company had been her last hope at bringing the Chinese solar tech from SolarTwo into the United States, but now that he had refused her – so flatly, and without any consideration or sympathy, it had seemed – her options had run out. She would be forced to shelf this solar tech project, perhaps permanently. She had had so many hopes and dreams running on this, and now they had all been dashed.

              She had come here, to this small hole-in-the-wall Irish pub, a place which she often frequented, to drown her sorrows after the failure that had been this afternoon. She sipped on the last of her drink and took out her phone. A message from her friend Jenny was waiting to opened on the screen. Jade took another sip and opened the message.

              “How'd that proposal go earlier girl? Did you get the result you were after? My date with Ferrari dude was a disaster. The dude had like NO personality at all. But tomorrow another guy is taking me out to a sushi bar. This dude drives a Maserati. Winning! -J.”

              Jenny shook her head, as she usually did after reading messages from Jenny. She typed out a hasty reply, not being in much of a mood to converse with her friend at the moment, considering how down she was feeling.

              “Hey girl, it's been a long day. Will tell ya about the proposal another time. Sorry to hear about Ferrari dude, but good luck with Maserati guy. -J.”

              She stuffed her phone back into her purse and finished off the last of her drink.

              “Another Long Island for ya, Jade?” asked the bartender, a grey and grizzled old New Yorker with a heavy accent and thickly-lidded eyes.

              “No thanks Joe,” she said sadly. “I think I've had about as many Long Islands as I can handle tonight.”

              “Fair enough,” he replied. “I just hate to see such a pretty lady lookin' so unhappy.”

              Jade couldn't help but laugh.

              “You're such a sweetie Joe,” she said warmly.

              “Well you're one of my favorite customers,” he said with a grin and a sparkle in his green eyes. “Are you sure I can't tempt you with one last Long Island? It's on the house.”

              “No thanks Joe. I have to get going.”

              “Listen kid, chin up, okay? I know you had a big disappointment earlier with that Brenton Huxley thing, but look, don't let it get you down. You can take a hit like a champ, and I'm sure you're gonna get right back on your feet and keep fightin' the good fight. That's right, ain't it?”

              “Thanks Joe, and yes, I'm going to get right back up and keep fighting. It takes a lot more than that to get me down.”

              “I know it is. You're a real fighter, you are. Alright then, you go be on your way. Take it easy, huh?”

              “Goodbye Joe,” she said with a smile.

              With that she stood up from the bar and walked out onto the street. She looked at her watch and considered calling a cab, but then figured that since her apartment was only seven blocks away, she may as well walk. It was a clear night, and the spring air was crisp and refreshing without being uncomfortably cold. A good, quiet walk at night was always good for clearing one's head.

              She started walking along the sidewalk, keeping a fairly slow pace as she allowed her thoughts to wander.

              Again and again though, despite what he had done to her, her thoughts kept on returning to Brenton Huxley. She had felt a powerful attraction to him, a magnetism that she really had not felt for a long, long time. Not since Vince.

              “Hey, watch where you're going, lady!” shouted a sudden voice, waking her from her thoughts.

              “Sorry!” she said to the old man she had almost walked into. He shook his head and carried on walking.

              “New Yorkers,” she thought with a sigh. “I really do miss the friendly people of home. Florida, I miss you a lot sometimes.”

              She had been in New York City ever since Vince had passed on. After that tragedy, and all the sadness and sorrow that had come with it, she had had to pack up her life and leave everything behind. No more warmth and sunshine and laid-back living; no, life had become about business, numbers, clients and profits. Something into which she could plunge all of her focus and energies, in an effort to forget about the terrible tragedy that had befallen her.

              And so it was, lost in her thoughts again, that Jade didn't notice the two shady figures, who had been quietly following her since she left the pub, speeding up their pace and catching up to her as she passed a narrow alley.

              One of them grabbed her wrist with one hand and clamped his other clammy, sweaty hand over his mouth, while the other man pulled out a flick-knife and flashed the blade in front of her face.

              “Don't say nothin',” he growled. “Get in the alley.”

              His companion pulled Jade roughly off the street, into the dark shadows of the alley.

              Panic flooded her system, and fear screamed silently in her ears. All of a sudden her pulse was racing terribly, and an awful heat was boosting its fire across every inch of her skin.

              “Look, look, just take my purse,” she heard herself saying, feeling as if she was in some kind of terrible nightmare. “There's a few hundred dollars in it, please, please just take it and don't hurt me.”

              The men, both of whom looked to be just out of their teens, and who were dressed in ragged street gear and who had wild, dark eyes, grabbed her handbag and ripped it off of her shoulder. One of them started rifling through it while the other, the one with the knife, kept the blade of his weapon pressed against her throat.

              “Don't move,” he hissed. “Don't say nothing, don't make a single sound. I'll cut you if you do, I swear to God.”

              “Hey!”

              All three of them turned to face the loud, brazen voice that had interrupted them.

              “Let her go right now and you won't get hurt.”

              A tall, powerful figure was standing at the entrance of the alley, silhouetted against the light.

              “Get the hell outta here man, or you're gonna get killed!” snarled the man with the knife. 

              “I'm not the one who's going to get hurt here.
You
might, though, if you don't start running right now.”

              Without saying another word, the tall man charged into the alley. The man with the knife shoved Jade against the wall and spun around to attack the man. He lunged forward in a stab with his flick-knife, but his opponent was way too fast. The tall man easily sidestepped the clumsy stab, and grabbed the man's arm with his left hand, immobilizing it. Then he planted a heavy right hook with precise power onto the man's jaw. The sound of the impact echoed through the alley; it was a deep, crunching thud. The knife-wielder's knees crumpled beneath him, and he fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

              “Your friend's just hit the ground, and you're next,” growled the voice – which was somehow familiar.

              The other mugger took one look at his friend groaning and bleeding on the floor, and he dropped Jade's bag and sprinted away.

              Jade, meanwhile, was breathing hard with terror, her big eyes even wider than usual with fear. In the darkness of the alley, she couldn't see the face of her rescuer, but she had somehow recognized his voice.

              “Th-, th-, thank you,” she managed to stammer.

              “It's alright, Jade. No sweat.”

              “Wh- what? You know who I am?”

              The man stepped into a pool of light, and Jade's heart began to race as she saw who the hero was.

              “I met you earlier this afternoon,” replied Brenton Huxley with a sly grin.