Page 3 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #1)

Chapter Two

W es

"I find that to be one of the biggest obstacles I've had to encounter since I've been in the city.

" Jeremiah Astor sits back, his voice tight as he takes a sip of his cognac.

His gray- white hair is cut neatly and gives him a distinguished look.

His cold blue eyes are keen as he eyes me casually, trying to see if he's irritating me.

"There are still those who belong to the old guard.

They still value old money over new." He sips the liquor with an air of contentment. This is his happy place, and while I hate being here, I agreed to join him because I very much want to do business with him. Or rather, take over one of his businesses. And if it means being in a stuffy room on the Upper East Side, surrounded by old-school snobs, then that is what I’ll do.

My parents, though they have extreme wealth, have never been the sort of people who joined private social clubs such as these, but maybe that is because they wouldn't have been welcomed with open arms. My mother, on her mother's side, had her descendants come over on the Mayflower, but when my grandma married my grandfather, a recent Italian immigrant, she lost her respectability.

Not that she cared. And my mother cared even less when she married my father, a mutt of a man with a penchant for gambling, cussing, and brawling in the streets.

Until he joined the Army and realized that my mother may not wait around for him.

It was a stroke of luck as well as business savviness when his import business took off, and coupled with my investments in the stock market, my family was very rich.

But the members of this club would not care that my family's net worth is likely five times the sum of theirs combined.

"Many seem to think that class differences don't matter here.

" Jeremiah looks around the room, and I follow his gaze.

We are surrounded by about a dozen men, dressed smartly in expensive suits, smoking cigars and pipes, and drinking overpriced liquor.

"But, of course..." His voice trails off, and he smiles at me weakly.

None of those people are in this room. This room is old New York.

The New York that lives for the society pages and whispered gossip behind dark velvet curtains and solid mahogany and oak wood doors.

"Though we are not English, we still value breeding here in New York City," I finish his sentence for him.

I try not to roll my eyes, jump up, and leave the room.

I hate snobbery in all its forms. Especially those stuck in antiquated times.

"I have watched The Gilded Age and did study history at Harvard, so I am aware of the subtle and complicated dynamics that exist..

." I lean forward, take a sip of the whiskey drink, and then place it down on the dark wood table between us.

"I think you'll find that my offer of 500 million for the paper is more than generous.

" I smile and lean back. I am here for a business deal, and the time for niceties is done.

"It's my best offer, and I will not go any higher.

" To most people, my comment would sound friendly, but there is a thin veil of warning in my tone.

I know that Jeremiah, for all his pomp, is close to bankruptcy. He would be a fool to dismiss my offer.

"Now now, Wes, must we discuss business at this very moment?" He chuckles and waves someone over. Before I can blink, a pretty brunette with big blue eyes and even larger breasts appears before us. "Sheryl, my guest is hungry. What does the chef have prepared for today?"

I am not, in fact, hungry, but I decide to keep my mouth shut.

I have heard many things about Jeremiah, and one is that he likes to be in charge.

He is a small old man with a God complex.

I will play along for now. I sigh as I look down at my Rolex.

I'd had plans to meet my brother, Miles, for drinks later this evening, but I have a feeling that is not going to happen.

"Tonight, we have a tender cut of prime rib," Sheryl responds promptly and then eyes me eagerly. "And we also have a sea bass dish that the chef has won awards for."

"We'll have the prime rib," Jeremiah states without even deigning to ask my opinion. "And a bottle of the Chateau Lafite-Rothschild 2018 Pauillac, please." He looks over at me. "You drink red, yes?"

"Of course." I stand up and reach for my phone.

"Excuse me, I have a call I need to make.

" I don't wait for him to answer as I head to the side of the room.

I don't care if he thinks I'm being rude.

I'm annoyed, and as an alpha male who likes to be in control, I do not appreciate his style of doing business.

I walk through the doors and call my brother.

"How'd it go?" he answers almost immediately. "Are we the new owners of the New York Guardian newspaper conglomerate?"

"We are not." I sigh, trying not to lose my cool. I am not used to having to pretend I am having a good time and enjoying myself. Nor am I used tohaving to explain myself. ”Miles, I swear, if I hear one more comment about old money, I am going to shove a wad of hundreds down his throat."

"Now, now, Wes, that would not be becoming of the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. And certainly not of?—"

"Shut it," I growl. "He just ordered a twelve-hundred-dollar bottle of wine." I scoff. "He is taking advantage of my generosity and kindness. I do not like to be used or taken for a fool."

"You have to play his game, Wes." Miles is serious for a few moments. "We both know that owning a paper is the next step in the Carrington Empire. Wait until Erica finds out; she'll want to write a gossip column."

"Lord, have mercy on us all." I laugh as he brings up our sister. "Don't let Jeremiah Astor hear that. He's already made it very clear how he feels about those with new money."

"We're new money?" Miles asks in surprise. "Dad was a millionaire in his own right."

"Dad's parents are not blue-blooded." I chuckle.

"And we cannot trace our heritage back to King Henry VIII or any landed gentry.

" I laugh out loud, thinking about how ridiculous it is for class lines to still exist. I'm about to make a joke when the door opens and Sheryl walks out, her head down.

She looks up, sees me, and smiles widely.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?" She walks directly over to me but trips over something and comes crashing into me, her breasts pushing into my arm for a few moments. "Oops, clumsy me. Sorry." She giggles and presses her hand against my bicep. "Sorry about that."

"No worries."

"I haven't seen you here before."

"I'm not a member," I say, by way of explanation. "They say never join a club that would have you as a member, but I don't want to join this club either, and I know that they wouldn't want me as a member, either."

"The annual membership fee is a hundred grand, I heard." She lowers her voice and looks around. "Crazy, right?"

"Indeed, it is."

"You trying to get a job with Mr. Astor?" She looks me up and down, trying to assess who I am and why I'm there. "You in sales?"

"I'm in many things," I say smoothly, not wanting her to know who I am or how much money I have. She's pretty, but I am not here to meet a woman for the night. No matter how sexy she is.

"You can be in me," she says boldly and then laughs. "I'm just joking." She tilts her head to the side to observe my face. "Unless you're interested." She continues. "Joke," she says quickly as she bites down on her lower lip.

"Have you worked here a while?" I am not sure why I asked her that, but I don't want to be rude.

"No, just a few months. My roommate, Anastasia, got me a job here. Said the tips were good. She lied. Who knew rich people could be so cheap?" She makes a face. "I may go back to retail." She leans forward. "There's a room at the back here that no one ever goes in, if you want to check it out."

"Check it out?" I raise an eyebrow as she giggles and flutters her eyelashes. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Oh, okay." She pouts slightly. "You married?"

"No." I hold up my phone as I remember Miles is still on the line and likely laughing at whatever parts of the conversation he's privy to. "But I'm also not in the space for any complications in my life."

"Huh?" She frowns and takes a step back. "What complications? I was just looking for a quick fuck." She runs her fingers through her hair, and I can tell she's pissed. "I wasn't looking for anything else."

"Unfortunately for you, I've been in this situation before and inevitably the fun quick fuck becomes a hot, complicated mess.

" I shrug. "What can I say? Maybe I'm just too good?

" I pull my wallet out and grab a couple of hundreds.

"But please do not take it personally. This is for you.

Buy yourself something pretty." I half expect her to throw the money back into my face, but instead, she grabs it and stuffs it into her bra.

Before I know what's happening, she grabs my hand, places it on her right breast, and squeezes it, before letting it drop.

"You coulda had a piece of this." She sniffs and then turns around abruptly, muttering something under her breath. I wait for her to round the corner before putting the phone to my ear again.

"Do not say a word," I whisper to Miles, who is already laughing. "I do not want to hear a word."

"But you coulda had a piece of that," he says in a high-pitched voice. "You didn't want a piece of that."

"I'm not you. I can think with something other than my dick."

"Low blow, Wes." I can tell he's not mad, though, because he's still laughing. "Let me guess, drinks are off tonight."

"You guessed one thing right." I lean back against the wall. "Sorry about that. I didn't think my first night back in town would be stuck in this club."

"No worries. I may go and meet up with Erica and Sabrina and take them to dinner. Erica is dying to pitch that podcast to us."

"She's still going on about that? Hmmm." I pause for a few moments and then casually continue. "Sabrina will be there, as well?"

"You know those two have been joined at the hip for years." Miles’s voice is soft. "And I think this is their after-graduation plan."

"So Erica didn't speak to Mom and Dad about the offer from Winston?"

"You know she wants to follow her own path, Wes."

"With our money!" I check the time again. "I mean, I could join y'all after I get done here, if you want. We can all have drinks."

"You want to drink with the hellions?"

"They aren't hellions. They have nearly graduated from college now." I press my lips together and think of one of the last conversations Sabrina and I had over a year ago. I wonder if she remembers it. I rub my forehead and try to get my sister's best friend out of my head. Sabrina Fillmore, with her honey-blonde hair, green eyes, curvy figure, and bubbly personality is the bane of my existence. And yet, because she is my sister’s best friend, I’ve never been able to rid her from my life. She’s nine years younger than me and should be completely off-limits, but I haven’t forgotten the moment we had a year ago.

A moment I should have never let happen.

A moment I couldn't forget. It doesn't help that I haven't seen her since then.

Which infuriates me even more, even though I am glad for the distance.

"They are still hellions. And I'm sure they are going to cause a whole heap of trouble for us."

"Oh, why?"

"They've joined some dating app." He chuckles. "Erica was telling me about it last night...some group dating thing. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but you know the two of them. Trouble finds them, like raccoons find trash cans."

"Just great." I sigh, annoyed at the information. I see Sheryl headed back down the corridor and realize I've been out of the room for longer than is polite at this point. "I have to go now, but I'll text you later to see if you're still out."

"Good luck, big bro. If anyone can close the deal, you can."

"We shall see." I hang up the phone and head back toward the door and open it for Sheryl.

She nods as she walks through, and I step in behind her.

My mind goes to Sabrina and her smart mouth, the dreams I've had about doing unspeakable things to that mouth, the fact that I know that I can't. She's Erica's best friend, too young, too innocent, and too na?ve. I press my lips together.

"Hey, Sheryl," I call after the lady, and she stops and turns around to look at me. She looks hesitant, as if she thinks I'm about to insult her again. "What time do you get off tonight?" I ask before I can stop myself. I watch the smile spread across her face.

"So you were playing games, huh?" She licks her lips and walks over to me. "Why are you men all the same?"

"All the same?" I ask and step to the side as a middle-aged man walks into the room, his head high in the air.

He walks past us, his eyes glued to Sheryl for a few moments, then he stops, looks at me, sniffs his fingers, and winks.

I watch as he goes to take his seat and then look back at Sheryl.

Her eyes are hard for a few seconds, and then I feel her fingers against my abdomen, about to slide down.

I grab her hand and stop her. "I think that perhaps I should stop you right there.

" I shake my head with a sigh. Fucking Sheryl is not going to take my mind off Sabrina.

"Have a nice night." I drop her hand and head back to Jeremiah.

"Jackass," she mutters as I walk away, and I can't help but laugh. That is not the first, nor will it be the last time a woman utters those words to me. I sit back down opposite Jeremiah and lay my hands flat on the table.

"You have an hour to accept my offer,” I say in a light tone.

“And if you don’t accept it, I will walk out of here.

And you, Mr. Astor, will have to figure out a new way to pay for membership to this classist, sexist, racist, piece-of-shit club.

" I lean back, grab my drink, and take a sip.

"Balls in your court," I say with a smile.

"I bet they have nice tennis courts here, huh?

" I ask, as if that were the most natural follow-up to my last comment.

Jeremiah's blue eyes are wide and full of venom.

He wants to throw me out. And he could, easily.

But he knows as well as I do that he's not going to get another offer like mine.

I wonder if his pride or greed will win out in the end.

I don't frankly care. There are other papers for sale.

I have no doubt there will be a Carrington media empire.

..I just don't know if it will start with the New York Guardian paper, circulation of five million.