All or nothing (Love in chaos #1) - Missy Johnson Page 0,2

build Tyler Enterprises to something better than Pop could ever dream of. What was once a small but respected consulting firm was now one of the biggest in the country.

No, there's no way I'm letting Jake take this away from me.

I look up to see Jax beginning to clean up the mess we left around the floor. He bends down to pick up my shirt and hands it to me. It reeks of beer and whiskey and is as crusty as the couch, but I take it and pull it on. There's lipstick on the collar and I grimace, remembering the twins giving me a series of sloppy kisses when I bought us all shots.

“Did we at least give you a good night?” I ask sullenly.

The four of us drinking usually ends up being an expensive night, which is great for Jax. The irony is for me, this one might cost me everything.

Jax grins at me. “Sure. You spent big, but that's standard,” he replies with a shrug. He hesitates for a second, like he wants to say more. “You could always try and fight it,” he finally adds. “You must have a decent lawyer on retainer with that big company of yours.”

“Conflict of interest,” I mutter, even though it’s more a case of me being too ashamed to call him. I know what he’ll say anyway. Do I want to fight this and risk it going public?

“Give me a second.” He holds up a finger and walks away again, this time out of sight, toward the back offices where even Jake, Mason and I aren't allowed to go. He returns a moment later and hands me a card.

“Give him a call,” he suggests. “Simon Esquire. He's my go-to guy. He’s helped me out of more bad situations than I can count.”

I take the card, and Jax gestures to the contract.

“If there's anyone who can give you the best advice on this kind of thing, it's him. Now get the hell out of my club so I can clean up your mess.”

“Okay. I’ll call you later.”

I head for the door, taking the bottle of water with me, wincing as I check my phone. Shit. It's almost noon, which means I've missed two important conference calls. I ignore the several missed calls from my assistant, Samara, because there's also a text from Jake. I open it with a scowl. The text is simple and short:

Seven days.

It’s like some kind of ominous message in a horror movie. Then again, this is like a horror movie, a very personal one where I get to be the star.

I rub my hand over my face and groan again as I step outside. It's October in New York and the air is refreshingly cool, which marginally helps my headache. The streets are bustling with people on their way back to work from lunch. I should be at work, too. Instead, I'm walking home from a club in yesterday's clothes, contemplating what my next move is going to be. I stare at the contract in my hands, and Simon's name and number tucked tight beneath my thumb.

I want to feel confident, but I feel far from it. I know Jake, and I know he’s going to go to try and win this. I’m on the back foot here and we both know it. I bet my company against his fucking car. I shake my head, because there are no words for that kind of stupidity. Maybe everyone was right; that taking on such a huge role so young wasn’t a good idea.

No. It’s what Pop wanted, and I’ve done a heck of a job—until now.

Please let there be a way out of this.

Chapter 2

BEN

Paul, the doorman, holds the door open for me when I reach my apartment complex on Park Avenue. He looks me up and down, the smallest shadow of a smile playing on his lips. I glance at my reflection in the mirrored wall along the side of the lobby and understand why.

I really do look like shit. My short, dark hair is all over the place, like I just rolled out of bed. My bloodshot eyes hint at just how much I drank last night. Thankfully for me, there’s no sign of a dick on my face.

“A big night I take it, Mr. Tyler?”

“You could say that,” I concur.

I trudge through the lobby and over to the elevators. The doors open immediately, as if it senses I'm there. I step inside and hit the