Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks Page 0,109

I chimed in. “You think Jim will get kicked out when they find out he’s with some chick who drives a beat-up 1980 VW Rabbit?”

Jake smirked. “Last I recall, she’s a single mom also. I even heard he already bought her and her kid a pretty badass car, so that’s something.”

He looked at the dick who’d managed to stick around this entire time for some unknown reason. If the asshole left now, it was apparent he’d have to hold his head in shame, and from what I could discern, this guy wasn’t here for that, and he was most definitely too prideful to walk at this point.

“This is a joke.” The man stared darkly at Jake.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Jake became more serious. “What the hell are you doing here, Mason?”

“It’s Mr. Forrest to you, doc,” he countered, and all the lame-ass bantering ended. “And I’m here because I’m sick of your brother’s company sliding in and taking every business under the sun.”

“Perhaps that’s because Jim is a goddamn genius, and you’re too slow and unable to keep up with his talent.” Jake stepped back and eyed the man. “And now here you are hitting on his girl? Big fucking mistake to piss off this particular CEO.”

“Yeah?” The man rose from the barstool, trying to meet Jake’s height. “What the hell is your big brother going to do to me?”

“You’re in a bidding war for that.” Jake waved his hand in the air. “What was it? Who the fuck knows.” He sighed. “All I know is winning that account over Mitchell and Associates would take the Forrest Group and bring them the business they need so as not to close-up shop. You need that deal. Even I know that, and I’m not running my family’s business.”

“Jim is nowhere near securing that deal,” he countered. “No fucking way.”

“Then why is your sorry ass here in this room?” I asked, more interested in this dick bag who was here, spying on his competition. “Then you decide to come at me because I’m here with Jim? Give me a break. Is this how you wealthy assholes work? Spy on the competition when you get intimidated? Jim’s speech was pretty badass, so I know that must’ve stung a little.” I smiled at his reddening face. “Now, here we are. You’re trying to make him look like a sleaze to the girl he walked in with. God, I wasn’t wrong when I referred to you as trash in a suit.”

“You’re a little mouthy cunt,” he said.

“Now, now,” Jake said. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, is it, Mason Forrest? Fuck, man, did your parents hate you or something? Mason Forrest…Shit.” He looked over at Ash. “Make sure we pair up first and last names with the little one so he doesn’t end up sounding like a goddamn idiot when he grows up like this guy.”

“Fuck you, doc,” he snapped.

“Mr. Forrest?” Jim’s voice cut through the bullshit, and I could tell this was going to end and end quickly now that we had a CEO-tone slicing through the air. “Is there a reason you’re in attendance tonight?”

“You need to back off our deals, James,” he spat.

Jim’s hand took mine while Jake walked over to Ash, and stood behind us. “I asked why you’re here?” Jim insisted. “I’m unsure as to why the vice president of Forrest Group is at my convention. You’ll explain here and now why you chose to walk in on something that is none of your company’s business.”

“Mitchell and Associates better back the fuck off our medical groups,” he demanded.

“We’re not on them, Forrest,” Jim said. “They chose to show up tonight, and while you were over here acting like some kind of viper with my lady, I was closing and securing handwritten signatures of all the executives and investors that are insisting on funding and joining Saint John’s new medical center. Gotta learn how to do the job, man.” Jim’s voice lightened some. “The days of playing games with a man’s woman to piss off the competition are over. You see, I play chess with my business tactics. You’re playing checkers.”

“Did you merge with Brooks?”

“You’re fucking joking, right?” I heard Jake say from behind me.

“I’m not. I want to know. Did Collin turn that company over to his best friend’s brother?”

“If you follow the stock market,” Jim said sternly, “which I’m suddenly questioning if you even know how to watch the damn thing, you’d have your answer to