Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks Page 0,49

idea to take an insult for an offer to come back? We’re here for more money last I checked,” Julia argued back.

“Greg told us we were stupid for pulling out,” Brad said.

Julia rose in a fluster while I covered my mouth, trying to keep my shit together. Nothing had ever happened in this room that had given me more pleasure than this entire exchange.

“I’m so done with you, both of you!” She seemed to have hit a level of outrage that was reserved for fifty-year-old men who were stuck in traffic. “My brother told you that?”

“After he spoke with Mr. Mitchell and decided not to pull your family from investing in this company. He said to stop listening to you. You’re costing us money, Julia.”

“What the hell?” she said, and I watched the woman almost melt where she stood. “You know my brother stole my family’s company from me. Why would you speak to him behind my back?”

“Again,” I said, “personal matters aside. Do you agree to our terms?”

“Yes,” both gamers said at the same time.

“Alex, have Alicia draw up the new contracts. I’ll sign them this evening.” I stood. “Thank you, gentlemen. Good day.”

I walked out of the office while Alex dialed Alicia to print up the new agreements.

“James,” I heard Julia snarl from behind me.

I kept walking. There was no way in hell this nut was going off on me on this floor and in front of half of my employees that I’d never met.

“What?” I said, jerking my elbow from her as I quickly stepped into the elevator with her on my heels.

“What the hell was that?”

“What are you doing?” I hit the button to take us to the lobby level. “And why are you following me after trying to fuck my business over? Should’ve thought that shit through, Julia.”

“This is crazy,” she said.

“This is crazy?” I questioned. “You have gone off the fucking edge. Was this because I wanted nothing to do with you as a married woman?”

“No—I…I have no idea. You disappeared on me all week in London.”

The elevators opened, and I stepped out, Julia following me. “You may wait here for your husband. I believe you’re finished?”

“I’m not even close to finished with you,” she said.

“I believe you played your best hand, but, please, be my damn guest in trying to finish me, Julia. Will that still be Mrs. Julia Jones, or the former Mrs. Julia Jones. Best to go beg for your husband back.”

“Why, because he wouldn’t listen to me? You gave him a bullshit offer, and you know it. You offered him less than half of what your team offered the first time? Really? And now a shitty advance for him to sign with you? What the hell?”

“The new terms are with your team of lawyers if you’d like to go read what your husband is signing for your future.” I glared at her.

“You’re a bastard, Jim,” she lashed out.

“And here I believed myself to be a fine ex of yours who escorted you off my upper floors and directed you to the exits personally.”

“This is the end of us. You know that, right?”

Jesus, she’s all over the place. “I understand completely.”

I stepped back into the elevator, leaving her staring, mouth agape, as I hit the button to bring me to my office on the top floor. I was elated to be rid of her and was now even more motivated to find the one woman I couldn’t shake. If only there were second chances. If only life were that kind.

Chapter Fourteen

Avery

I came to pick up Addison from her preschool, and I smiled when she held up her artwork while waiting impatiently in her class line for parents to greet the teacher and check out their children. I gave her two thumbs up, watching her small group of friends laughing and giggling at my daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Thank you, Jeanine,” I said when Addy jumped up into my arms. “Was she on good behavior today?”

“Always,” the young teacher said. “See you on Monday, Addison.”

“Bye, Ms. Jeanine,” Addy said, hugging me tightly. “Momma, I made it for you.”

I took the finger-painted project and smiled at my daughter’s multi-colored, scribbled artwork on the coarse paper. “Wow, Addy. What is it?”

“Guess,” she said in her sweet voice, trying to pique my curiosity by sounding mysterious. “You have to always guess, Momma.”

I let Addy down and held her hand after shouldering her pony backpack. “Well,” I said, walking swiftly toward our car to beat the parent pickup traffic,

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