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All That She Wants

By´╝ÜOlivia Thorne


It had been the worst goddamn year of my life.

Betrayed by the woman I was supposed to marry, and to the worst enemies I had: my own family.

Obstructed and frustrated at every turn in the biggest business deal I had ever embarked on.

Miserable, lonely, bitter, angry, with failure seemingly waiting for me around every corner.

And the constant reminder of how I had failed – failed to see my fiancée for what she really was, even up to the point when she plunged the knife in my back. Me, the guy who can look at a $5 billion business and see all the angles, all the flaws, all the opportunities – I got played. And had my heart ripped out for good measure.

And then, just like that, it all turned around…

…and became the best year of my life.

Don’t get me wrong; there was still hell to go through.

But for the first time in ages, I caught my first glimpse of heaven.


I was in the back of the Bentley, watching the lights of downtown Los Angeles go by, and trying to ignore my right-hand man Sebastian as he droned on about pointless details.

“I need you back on the plane by midnight if you’re going to make the 9AM meeting tomorrow in New York,” he said over the limo’s backseat speaker.

“Remind me why you scheduled a meeting for 9AM on a Saturday?” I asked grumpily, though I knew exactly why.

And, of course, Sebastian told me. In detail. As he always does.

“Because you need the go-ahead from the regulatory commission, and the supervisory meeting is Monday morning, and if you don’t have DeWeiss in your pocket by then – ”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, fine.”

Words, words, words.

Wait, that was Hamlet. What was that Macbeth line…?

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day…

“Connor,” Sebastian yelled.

“What?” I snapped, yanked out of my daydream.

“Do I have your word you’re going to be in and out of there and back on the Gulfstream by midnight?”

“YES. It’s not going to take that long. All I need to do is look over some accounts.”

“I never can tell with you.”

“What do you think’s going to happen?” I smirked. “That I’m going to meet a woman?”

Sebastian paused – and then launched in, full force.

“I wish you would.”

“What, in a consulting firm at 6PM on a Friday? Not likely.”

“I don’t care WHERE you meet her. No, scratch that, just don’t make it a whorehouse or a strip club. Or a Republican Party fundraiser.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” I said, sorry I’d even brought it up.

“On second thought, libertarian Republicans are fine. In fact, regular Republicans are fine, just make sure she’s not anti-ME.”

Full disclosure: Sebastian is gay. Very gay.

I snorted. “Anybody who talks to you longer than 15 seconds is ‘anti-you.’”

“Love you, too, Connor,” he said sarcastically. “You know what, I don’t even care, go find a nice Mormon girl – you just REALLY need to get over that bitch.”

“Got the message; you can quit anytime you like.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’ve been telling you FOREVER – ”

“Aaaaanytime now.”

“Seriously, you need to stop marching your pity parade through town and get back in the saddle.”

“I think you’re mixing your metaphors.”

“You need to do a little mixing of your own. Just make sure you do it AFTER your meeting with DeWeiss tomorrow morning, and NOT before.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

Sebastian snorted. “Based on the last eight months, a reasonable person might agree – but I’m ALWAYS worried when YOU’RE in the equation.”

“That’s why you make the big bucks.”

“That’s one of the MANY reasons I make the big bucks.”

“Go home, I can handle it from here.”

“Fine – but I’m staying up and waiting for a call until you’re on that plane.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I will.”



“GOODBYE,” I snapped, and hit the hang-up button.

I love the guy and, honestly, it would take a fleet of assistants to replace what he does for me – but Jesus he can be a pain in the ass.


The Bentley pulled up outside the Exerton building just a few minutes before 6PM.

Before I could reach for the door, my bodyguard and chauffeur already had it open for me.

John Inaba. Former Special Forces, U.S. Army. Fourth degree black belt in ninjutsu. On first glance, he looks more like a Hollywood actor than a bodyguard. Which would be a deadly mistake on your part if you tried to fuck with him.