Trillionaire Boys' Club: The Internet Giant Page 15

  “Mia …”

  “Stay, Onyx,” she says, her shaking more pronounced. “Stay, and tell me you love me all over again. Take me to Jamie’s house when he comes over and stick your dick in me while the two of you smoke cigars. I won’t say a word. I’ll just lay there and take it like your little whore.”

  “I never said—”

  “You can get off,” Mia says, “while you’re getting a leg up on the competition.”

  “Look —” But I only get the one word before she picks up a potted plant and throws it at my head. “Mia!”

  “I believed you!” she shouts, her careful control now finally gone. “I told myself you were the same fucking liar you’ve always been, but then I started to believe, and now you’re making me look like a goddamn ditzy idiot all over again! I know what you told Simon, about the freeze on staffing. Your contract addendum. You told him about the ghosts. But that was all part of the game, wasn’t it?”

  “No! When I talked to Simon, nobody was supposed to—”

  “I trusted you! I let you in after I’d finally gotten past what you did to me! I defended you! Jamie told me you were using me. My mom told me you were using me! But what did I do? I told them you’d changed! I told them you weren’t the same old asshole, even with all the …” She fights for a word, then seems to find it: “The bullshit little dramas you laid out for me! Buying Urban Design! Telling Simon exactly what you knew he’d turn around and tell me, to make you look like a … a goddamn saint!”

  “I didn’t know you’d talk to Simon! How could I? I honestly wanted to make sure that nobody lost their job because of—”

  “BULLSHIT! Stop lying to me! Stop lying to me, just for once!”

  “I’m not lying to you!”

  She stares me down. We face off across the patio, her eyes like lasers. I don’t know where to take this, but this time I have some truth on my side. Aiden bought Urban Design, but I made that staffing addendum in earnest. I lied some, but left so many inventions behind.

  “You’re a son of a bitch.” She turns to leave, the final word said.

  I feel an intense — almost irresistible — desire to run after her and drag her back. But what would that accomplish? Do I plan to drug her into submission?

  It’s over. I should have the decency, for once, to accept my consequences and let it go.

  Instead, feeling something well up inside me, I shout after Mia that I’m sorry.

  It’s the most I’ve ever meant something, but the very last thing she wants — or deserves — to hear.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  MIA

  Five days later, I’m feeling slightly less like shit. I tell myself I don’t miss Onyx, and it’s easy to believe because I’m so busy being furious.

  Still, shame trumps the anger. I feel duped and stupid. Used. Like I should’ve known better. I’m Charlie Brown after Lucy’s yanked the football for the thousandth time; I’m sending my bank details to a Nigerian prince. It’s embarrassing.

  And even after five days, it’s only slightly better.

  Mom, bless her heart, was kind enough not to say she told me so. She just looked at me when I went to her house, and without a word we embraced. I cried and she made me tea. Later we ate ice cream right from the carton. No words about Onyx or my stupidity.

  Jamie’s kept her tongue as well, but as my means of silent penance for ignoring her warnings we’ve gone jogging daily. Each time, I feel like I’m going to die, but at least in near-death it’s hard to dwell on my idiocy.

  Today she invites me over and tells me to dress nice; we’re going out for dinner somewhere fancy. I don’t put two and two together until we get there, and then I feel stupid all over: I knew from the start that Anthony Ross was coming to town and am only just now remembering, and seeing him reminds me of why Onyx used me.

  But I shake the thought from my head as best I can, and allow myself to be led, behind Jamie, into Anthony’s limo. It’s not a normal limo; it’s a big black Rolls. The interior is like a tiny apartment. It makes Anthony look like a giant. He’s incredibly handsome — dark features with bright blue eyes, hair with a brush of grey at the temples. I think he’s in his lower forties but with the strong, broad build of a man in his prime. He’s thick through the chest and arms, but still tall. A large man, in both body and personality.

  It’s easy to be spellbound. Jamie, who grew up as if she were his daughter, is immune. To me, Anthony seems like a god. He’s intense when he speaks, staring right in your eyes. You feel like you instantly know him, like he’s your very best friend — or, in a lot of female cases, a lover. I try to match those eyes but find myself blushing, looking away. Inappropriately, I wonder what this powerful man is like in bed. But it’s just his charisma working on me — the dominant presence he’s always had, that’s earned him his many millions of devotees and followers.

  We arrive at the restaurant and sit. There’s way too much silverware, and the plates make me afraid I’ll damage them with my careless eating. Waiters wear tuxedos and white gloves. I hear someone mention a bottle of wine while I’m messing in my purse, looking for lipstick, and I’d swear they said the word “thousand” when quoting the price. Who pays four figures for wine? And who can tell the difference between that and Two Buck Chuck?

  I’m still trying to find my lipstick, realizing how uncultured I must seem in this crowd but grateful for the invite, when a familiar voice surprises me.

  “Anthony? It’s so good to see you again.”

  I look up to see Onyx, in an immaculate suit, smiling, pulling an empty chair from between two diners at the next table. Ours is a four-top and there are only three of us, but even with the fourth setting removed, there’s an obvious spot for Onyx to slot the chair in with us and sit. So he does.

  I don’t know what to say. I’m sure my jaw is hanging open, but I’m too distracted by Anthony’s open mouth to think of it for long. I’ve never seen Anthony Ross surprised, even on TV; he always seems so in-charge and under control. Not now. A fourth diner has inexplicably pulled up a chair and joined us without invitation. Anthony looks as shocked about it as the next-table diners from whom he stole the empty chair. This despite the fact that the two men obviously know each other.

  “Onyx?”

  He acts like he can’t hear the surprise or question in Anthony’s voice. Onyx is looking down at his blazer, straightening it. Then he looks up at us and smiles as if this is all perfectly normal.

  “I … I didn’t know you were even in Inferno Falls,” Anthony says.

  “I wasn’t. I mean … I was last week, but then I went back to Seattle.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a son of a bitch.”

  I’m pretty sure he didn’t just say that. I look at Jamie to see if I’m hearing things, but Jamie doesn’t notice. She’s too busy staring daggers at Onyx. If looks could kill, he’d have been dead a long time ago, rotting in a shallow grave and drawing flies — that’s how hard Jamie is staring.

  “Oh,” says Anthony. No help there. Maybe he thinks he heard wrong, too.

  Onyx straightens his collar, adding nothing.

  Anthony seems to realize he’s being rude in not introducing the awful man who’s crashed our table. Still looking flummoxed, he gestures between Jamie and Onyx. “Jamie, this is my business associate, Onyx Scott. He’s one of the founders of the Forage search engine company.”

  Jamie doesn’t break her killing gaze. Like ice, she says, “I know who he is.”

  “And Onyx, this is Jamie Kyle. She’s sort of a protégée — although really, we’re closer to family. Her father was a friend. She’s been like my adopted daughter since his passing.”

  Onyx nods pleasantly toward Jamie. “We’ve met.”

  “And this is Jamie’s friend Mia.”

  Jamie not-so-subtly elbows Anthony and mutters. I hear something like, That’s the bastard I told you about. Anthony looks up. I don’t know what they’ve discussed about me and Onyx, but I gat
her it’s distinct from her nosing around about what the Forage guys might be up to. Apparently it’s a surprise to Anthony that I have a social history with one of the world’s best-known tech giants.

  “Oh,” says Anthony to no one in particular.

  I say nothing, and don’t know where to stare: at Onyx for daring to show up like this, at Jamie in camaraderie, or at Anthony in apology, as if this interloper is all my fault.

  And Onyx just says, “We’ve met, too.”

  There’s an awkward moment poignant enough that diners at the tables around us have started stealing glances. The malcontent must be radiating from our foursome like heat.

  “Look, Anthony,” Onyx finally says, “I’m sorry for crashing your party. But there are some things we need to discuss. Important business.”

  Anthony looks at me and Jamie, then at Onyx. “Maybe another time would be better? My assistant would be glad to —”

  Onyx holds up his hands. “This is the right time.”

  “But I’m having dinner with my guests.”

  “That’s why I’m here. It’s business with them, too.” Onyx seems to consider and corrects himself. “Nope, nope, that’s not quite right. It’s not business that involves them, but it’s business they’ll want to know about. Do you know what I mean, Jamie?”

  And Jamie says, “Go fuck yourself, Onyx.”

  Anthony’s head ticks toward her. While he’s looking away I say, “Leave us alone,” and Anthony’s head ticks back.

  “Maybe another time,” Anthony repeats.

  Onyx straightens up, and starts talking faster. “Look. I’ll be brief. I know you have a proposal on the table at a certain organization we both belong to. A certain club, you might say.”

  “This isn’t really a proper discussion for—”

  Onyx cuts him off, dismissing the idea of confidentiality.

  “I’ll be blunt. Forage is making modifications to its code and infrastructure to attempt to work with the substance of your proposal. What you’re suggesting, along with Alexa and the others? Forage’s new initiative is designed to work with that, exactly. My partner Aiden also would want me to point out that Forage’s capacity as a search engine makes it an ideal index for the … changes your proposal suggests.”

  Now Anthony looks uncomfortable. He seems to want Onyx to stop talking, but short of putting his hand over the man’s mouth, that seems unlikely.

  “Aiden will also get in touch with you, adding possible considerations involving Forage Education. He’ll make jokes about indoctrination. Possibly the George Orwell novel 1984, and its Ministry of Truth.” Onyx sees something change on Anthony’s face and says, “Oh, I see. He already has. So you know what I’m talking about. You know what Forage’s angle is on this, to try and work with you.”

  “It’s under consideration,” Anthony mumbles.

  “Well, don’t,” Onyx says. “Don’t put it under consideration.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t,” Onyx repeats. “I know how you work. People pitch you things all day long. They know you make things happen, and everyone thinks you’re their best friend even if you’re not.” He holds up a hand. “No offense intended. I get it. Part of being a guru.” He lowers the hand. “But because you’re pitched all the time, only proposals that come with a personal endorsement really merit your consideration. Am I right? You can make gold out of anything, so you’re not wanting for ideas. What you want most is to work with people you like. People you trust. People that those closest to you vet as good guys or gals.”

  Onyx gestures toward Jamie. “So, for instance,” he says to her, “what would you tell Anthony about me, and whether or not he should work with me?”

  “You’re a liar. A cheater. A total and complete asshole. I wish you were dead.”

  Onyx doesn’t flinch. “My sentiments exactly. I am a liar. I am a cheater. I am a complete asshole. There are times, for sure, that even I wish I was dead. And the same is true for my partner. Aiden has a great reputation as a philanthropist, but he’s even worse than me. I tried to change my ways and can’t, but Aiden doesn’t even try. Don’t turn your back if you do business with him. He’ll rob you blind.”

  Anthony looks at me, then Jamie, then finally at Onyx. “Are you drunk?”

  “I’m a bastard,” Onyx answers. “I use people. I’m only out for myself. And I came here tonight to tell you that if you even consider partnering with us, you’ll definitely regret it.”

  Anthony doesn’t seem to know what to say. Finally he nods and says, “Okay.”

  Onyx stands. He looks at me. Softly — just for my ears — he says, “You don’t deserve an apology. My apologies are worthless. You deserve so much more than my bullshit.”

  I don’t understand. Every time in the past when Onyx has screwed me over, he’s come back on his hands and knees, apologizing, promising to change. Today, he’s done none of that. He’s walked into a fancy restaurant, sat across from the man he schemed for months to impress through me and then Jamie, and shot himself and his company very publicly in the foot. There’s no chance Anthony would work with Forage now. Onyx has ruined his chances, and he hasn’t even tried to apologize.

  I have to wonder: Is he drunk?”

  He looks down at me, buttons his blazer, and says something too low for me to hear.

  “I’m sorry?” I say, urging him to repeat himself.

  “For once, I’m not,” he says. “But at least this time, I’ve created the right ghost.”

  He nods pleasantly to all three of us.

  And then he walks away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  MIA

  Apparently Onyx didn’t hire a limo, because I catch him out front, trying to hail a cab. It’s a stupid idea. That might work in the other cities he visits, but Inferno only has a handful of cabs and they all take longer, cost more, and are less readily available than an Uber. The one he’s managed to spot, down the block from us in New Town, is already pulling away with a fare. He stays where he is as if another might come along at any moment.

  I come up beside him. He looks at me and nods. So I’m the one who has to say, “What the hell was that all about?”

  “Sabotage.”

  “You doomed your chances with him. Just blew yourself right out of the water.”

  “Okay: self-sabotage.”

  “Why would you do that? Are you trying to impress me?”

  “If I am, I kind of suck. You have no idea what that deal was worth. My grandkids will still be earning from it directly when they’re eighty.”

  “You didn’t need it. You didn’t want to do it.”

  Onyx shakes his head, frowning a little. “I wanted to do it very much. This stopped being about the money for me a long time ago. What Anthony has brewing? It’s big enough to change the world. To make an impact far more than any of Aiden’s pet charities could ever possibly achieve. It would have been a fitting cap to my career, and I’d have managed it before thirty.”

  “So … why?”

  “Maybe I like a challenge. Maybe I don’t want to peak too early.”

  “Tell me the truth, Onyx.” I don’t add: for once.

  He turns to face me square. “If I tell you, will you forgive me?”

  “No.”

  He nods as if I replied in the affirmative. “Okay, good. Then I’ll tell you. And this is the truth, Mia, though I’m sure you’ll think I’m playing an angle. I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m not, but it really doesn’t matter. I don’t need to convince you. There’s no reason, since I’m not looking for grace.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to this, so I just say, “O … kay.”

  “Truth is, I did come here to play you. I didn’t love you, so why not? I knew how to push your buttons, so Aiden and I got together, when we were working on the problem of Anthony Ross, and decided I might as well start pushing them. I knew you knew Jamie, and of course we both knew how she was connected to Ross … and how her simply liking
me could make all the difference in the world. So that was how this started. Are you with me?”

  I nod. I’m boiling hearing all of this, but he’s saying it so plainly, it’s hard to fight back.

  “I started to wonder if it was a good idea almost right away. By the time I moved here, I knew it wasn’t. But I did it anyway, because that was the plan. It got off to a rocky start, but then things changed. We started to connect.”

  “It was working,” I say, cynical.

  “Actually, it wasn’t working for me at all. Because the whole idea was for me to play right through you. I’m good at that — or at least, I used to be. I knew how to rev you up, then how to settle in long enough that even your mom would think I’d changed. I could’ve done it, Mia. I was right on target. But it didn’t work … because it did work.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Onyx sighs. “Things felt different this time. I didn’t want to lie. I kept thinking of stupid shit you’d forced into my head, like the idea of karma and ghosts. Even after Aiden arranged that one-sided buyout of Urban Design, I couldn’t let it go without getting in there and protecting the staff. And at the same time, I was trying to distance myself from you. But what happened? My attempt to square the UD deal brought you closer. I couldn’t win.”

  “So you left.”

  “I had to leave, Mia,” he says, softening. “The alternative was to stoke the lie.”

  “You could have told me the truth.”

  “You’d have assumed I was lying. It’s nested with us. Always has been. You kept saying you were tired of my apologies. I didn’t want to tell you I was sorry, even though I was. And that had to be okay. I didn’t say I was sorry and leave kindly because that would have been something I was doing for me, to make myself feel better. ‘Oh good; she accepted my apology; now I don’t have to hate myself.’ But this wasn’t about me, and the apology didn’t matter. You even told me what you needed from me was the opposite of an apology.”