My Biggest Mistake Read online

  My Biggest Mistake

  Lisa Lace

  Contents

  1. Rory

  2. Elise

  3. Elise

  4. Rory

  5. Elise

  6. Rory

  7. Elise

  8. Rory

  9. Rory

  10. Elise

  11. Rory

  12. Elise

  13. Rory

  14. Elise

  15. Rory

  16. Elise

  17. Rory

  18. Elise

  19. Elise

  20. Rory

  21. Elise

  22. Rory

  23. Elise

  24. Rory

  25. Elise

  26. Elise

  27. Rory

  28. Elise

  29. Rory

  30. Elise

  31. Rory

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  Also by Lisa Lace

  Rory

  “Miss Sawyer is here to see you, sir.”

  “Am I supposed to know who that is?” I look up from my computer, trying not to look irritated as I glance across to my PA, Charlotte, who is standing in the doorway to my office. “I’m trying to fix a bug in our code. Apparently, fifty-two thousand dollars a year doesn’t buy you a programmer who can write a simple command. We’ve got a release date around the corner, and the main character’s pants are disappearing every time he goes through a doorway.”

  Charlotte represses a giggle. “I understand, Mr. Everest. You’ve already turned this particular journalist away before. This is the third time she’s scheduled an appointment.”

  I wonder if I can disappear behind the desk. “I hate journalists.”

  “And the world knows it,” Charlotte reminds me. “But you made a promise to the public relations team, remember? You’re supposed to be making a good impression with the media from now on, Rory.” She drops the formalities when she’s getting serious. “Do you remember the video of you screaming at that reporter outside your house? It’s had over forty thousand views.”

  “He was trying to photograph my daughter.”

  “I understand. Still, you don’t have a good image in the press right now. The company needs you to make time for these interviews.” She smiles, softening the fact that she’s strong-arming me into something that’s good for me. “Besides, Miss Sawyer isn’t from a big paper or magazine. I double-checked already. She’s from a little gossip website nobody’s ever heard of. She’ll only have simple, easy questions. Come on, Rory. How hard can it be to tell someone whether you like cats or dogs more?”

  I lean back, putting my hands on the desktop. The office is my sanctuary. I’ve made sure it’s on the top floor so I can get away from the mayhem and office gossip downstairs.

  It also the best view in all of Manhattan. I glance out at the panoramic bird’s-eye view of the city. The buildings are sun-drenched, glittering against the bright blue of the sky.

  I know I’m losing the battle, but I have to try. “I have important work to do here.”

  “She’s only asking for fifteen minutes,” Charlotte insists gently. She’s not going to let this drop. Charlotte is good at her job, and she sticks to her guns.

  I clench my jaw. I might as well bite the bullet. “Fine. Send her in.”

  Charlotte nods and turns on her heel. She walks briskly out toward her desk, which sits in the lobby outside my office. Moments later, Miss Sawyer walks in.

  She’s attractive, in a downtown girl sort of way. She’s wearing a plain black dress made of a heavy cotton and wool blend. It’s lost its shape from one too many times through the washer, and there’s a loose thread on the hem. She has light brown hair that reaches down to her shoulders, and it’s been straightened until it shines. There are thin blond highlights running through it, almost like some of the executive women downstairs. I’m guessing she did it herself in the shower rather than at a swanky hairdresser in central New York. She’s slim and petite. Her legs are toned and look phenomenal in her little black court shoes. It makes me wonder what the rest of her would look like without the shapeless dress.

  “Mr. Everest, it’s a pleasure.” She reaches out a hand to shake mine. I ignore it and gesture to the chair across from me. She sits down. “My name is Elise Sawyer. I’m a columnist for Eye on Manhattan. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

  “I can’t say that I have.” I glance up at the clock on the wall. “If you wouldn’t mind, Miss Sawyer, I have rather a lot to get through today, so I’d appreciate if you could make this quick.”

  She meets my eye. Her hazel eyes bore into me. “Of course.”

  Elise bows her head to look through the notes in the little notepad she’s bought with her. It’s one of the cheap ones children buy to write down homework assignments. She places a list of questions on the notepad cover, then holds a pen over the first line of the next page.

  “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

  “By all means.” I fold my hands in my lap as I wait. She takes another minute to fish out a voice recorder from her purse and set it on the table. I raise an eyebrow. “Any time you like, Miss Sawyer.”

  She purses her lips. “I’m ready.” She lifts her chin and fixes her eyes on mine. “The article I’m writing is about the most eligible bachelors in New York City. As an unmarried man who’s one of the wealthiest in New York, you must get a lot of female attention.”

  I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from telling her to get the hell out of my office. I’m in the middle of making a game worth millions of dollars, and she’s taking up my time with inane chit-chat.

  “I suppose some people might say that. Yes.”

  “Let me get a little background on you, Rory.”

  “Mr. Everest.”

  She rephrases. “Mr. Everest. You’re the CEO and founder of Everest Games, Incorporated. Your company has produced games we know and love, such as All Our Soldiers, Legends I and II, and Mysteria. Your net worth is in the billions. Tell us, how does your success affect your love life?”

  “I don’t have one.” I drum my fingers on the desktop. “I’m successful because I put my work first.”

  Elise smiles. “So any woman in your life would have to be happy with taking a backseat to Everest Games?”

  “If I were to ever date a woman, then yes. I suppose she would.”

  “You’re a self-starter. How did you begin Everest Games?”

  I stand up and walk over to the table at the back of my office where the coffee machine sits. I place in a new pod and set it running. I’d offer Elise one, but I’m not planning on letting her stay long enough to drink it.

  “With all due respect, Miss Sawyer, my time is valuable, and your questions are hardly an exclusive look behind the scenes of Rory Everest. You could get this information from Wikipedia or our company website.”

  “I was hoping to hear it in your own words.”

  “I taught myself to code by watching online tutorials, reading in libraries, and sneaking into lectures at a state college. It’s common knowledge.”

  “You’re a single father. Is that right?”

  “I don’t talk about my daughter in interviews. Ever. Next question.”

  She bristles in her seat, twisting to keep her eyes on me while I pour cream into my Colombian black. When she turns, her skirt hitches up another inch. She’s got legs that stretch for miles.

  “Fine. But your website won’t tell me what kind of a woman you’re interested in.”

  “I’m not interested in making that information available to the public.” I fix her with a withering stare.

  Undeterred, Elise holds my gaze. “Mr. Everest, I write for a gossip site. A man as intelligent as yourself should
have expected questions just like these.”

  “Tabloid sites are poison.”

  “It’s a living.”

  “All journalists are parasites, but gossip media is the worst.”

  Elise stares at me, cool as anything. Her expression is unshaken, her voice low and calm. “With all due respect, you agreed to this interview. I’d appreciate the courtesy of your cooperation for five minutes. Then you can get back to your toys.”

  She knows damn well I make computer games, not toys, but she says the word to rile me.

  I take the coffee back to my desk and sit down. “You have a big ego for a gossip columnist.”

  “I’m surprised there’s room for a second ego in a room with Rory Everest,” she shoots back coolly.

  I chuckle. She’s feisty, I’ll give her that. “My type of woman is sharp, established in her own right, and polished. She has her act together.”

  “She can stand on her own two feet,” she supplies.

  “Exactly.”

  Elise nods and scribbles her notes. “Does your status as one of the wealthiest men in America affect your ability to find that kind of woman?”

  “Are you asking if I’m a target for gold-diggers? Absolutely. It’s very hard to find a woman who can keep up with me.”

  “What is the most memorable date you’ve ever been on?”

  “I don’t really date.”

  “What would be your ideal date if you went on one?” She smiles. “An evening behind the computer screen? Do you like gamer girls?”

  I shake my head. “God, no.”

  Elise stares at me for a beat, then closes her notepad. “I have to ask, Mr. Everest, how did you ever get into the gaming industry? You seem so—”

  “—Serious and dull?”

  “Not the words I would have chosen.” Elise laughs lightly. “But you don’t seem like a gamer.”

  “I wouldn’t call myself one. I enjoy coding. It’s logical and consistent. I like solving puzzles. I put pieces together, like writing in a foreign language. It’s making something out of nothing. That’s what it’s all about.”

  “So you don’t play the games you create?”

  “Not so much.”

  She returns to her page of notes. “Back to the main questions.”

  I glance at my watch. “You have three more minutes. It’s your last chance to ask something interesting.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Elise places her notepad defiantly down on my desk and leans forward, across the surface. “I have a question for you. Should any potential investors be worried about your conviction for drug possession?”

  My ears start to ring with anger as I glare at her. I can’t count the number of journalists who’ve seen my temper flare because they’ve broached this subject. Elise is about to become my next victim.

  Elise

  The second I bring up the drug charge, Rory’s dour demeanor turns into pure spite. He’s staring me down now like a rabid wolf, his eyes cold and intense. A moment ago, he had been the most handsome man I’d ever seen—dark hair, sharp blue eyes, and a chiseled jaw. Now, like Jekyll turning into Hyde, he’s become someone else. I shrink back in my chair.

  “How many people do you think my company employs?” he snaps.

  I’m taken aback by his question. “I don’t know.”

  “You should have done your homework, Miss Sawyer. Over four hundred. How much money do you think I’ve made?”

  “I—”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll answer. Billions. Do you know how much I donate to charity?”

  “Mr. Everest, I—”

  “More each week than you probably earn from your crappy little job in a month.” He leans forward to dress me down. “I am more successful than anybody you have met or will ever meet. I don’t need to justify my past to you or anybody else. Kindly leave my office now. Don’t think about coming back.”

  My mouth has fallen open in shock. Rory’s speech was so menacing, I think I can feel a chill in the air from the ice in his words. A heart that was pounding not so long ago from the excitement of meeting the Rory Everest is now thumping in panic.

  I can’t blow this.

  “I apologize, Mr. Everest,” I stammer out. “I thought you wanted me to ask more personal questions.”

  “You knew exactly what I meant. You were being purposefully antagonistic.”

  “I promise I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I thought I told you to leave.”

  “I haven’t finished my questions.”

  “I’ve finished answering them, Miss Sawyer.”

  “With all due respect, your criminal history is public record. It’s hardly a secret, Mr. Everest. You might as well give your side of the story.”

  “I am not a criminal.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying—”

  “You’re digging yourself into a deeper hole. I think you should quit while you’re ahead.”

  “Obviously, I’ve hit a nerve. I’m sorry.”

  “You should be. Leave now.”

  My eyes fill with tears, but I look at the ground and blink them back before he can see them. When I raise my head, my eyes are like steel. “I have to write this article. Unlike you, I have someone to answer to.”

  “Then you should have chosen your words more carefully, shouldn’t you?” His expression is stony. There is no empathy in his expression.

  “Give me five more minutes.”

  “I’m finished talking to you.” Rory presses a button at the phone on his desk. “Charlotte. Miss Sawyer is ready to leave. Please come see her out.”

  Defeated, I rise slowly from my chair. When I stand, my legs are shaking from being shouted at by one of the most powerful men in the city—and from worry about what the editor will say when I come back with nothing more than a few dozen words.

  I’ve been writing a whole series on New York’s most eligible bachelors. Rory is the fourth person I’ve interviewed. I haven’t got half of what I need to write anything worthwhile.

  I turn back to look at Rory one last time. How can someone so handsome on the outside be so cold on the inside?

  “I’m sorry I offended you.” I say it one last time before I force a smile for Rory’s sweet assistant who’s been nothing but kind. “The article will be available to view online next week. I can also send it to you ahead of time to review before I publish if you’re interested.”

  He waves a hand dismissively in my direction. “Eye on Manhattan is hardly The New York Times, Miss Sawyer. I’m sure I’ll cope with whatever groundbreaking revelations you weave into your article about my love life. The interview has already taken up enough of my time.”

  “It will go straight to publication.”

  I glance at Rory a while longer. I’m hoping that if I stand and stare at the back of his head long enough, he’ll realize what a jerk he’s been and apologize. Maybe I’ll even forgive him if he explains he has had a bad day or a lot on his mind.

  But I get nothing. I hoist my purse further up my shoulder and turn around, leaving the office and a horrid man behind.

  In the hall, Charlotte offers me a kind smile. “Let me take a wild guess. He chewed you up and spat you out.”

  “What’s his problem?”

  She laughs. “Arrogance, mostly.”

  A smile breaks on my face. “You’ve noticed, then. Honestly, how can you work with that man? He’s so far up his own ass, I’m surprised he even realizes anyone else works here.”

  “He’s not that bad.” Charlotte walks with me to the elevator. “There’s actually a nice guy beneath all that ego, believe it or not. He lets the stress of the company get to him.”

  “Hmm.” There’s nothing else I can say without ripping into him again, and I’ve learned if I have nothing nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all.

  “Did you get what you needed for your article?” Charlotte asks me.

  I shake my head. “He didn’t really want to answer the question
s I came prepared with but didn’t want to answer anything else, either.”

  “He’s selective, that’s for sure.” We arrive on the ground floor and Charlotte gestures for me to step out first. “Let me give you my card. I can’t promise I’ll be able to quote Rory directly, but if you need any more background information or anything like that, I can send you our PR dossier and some other things.”

  “That’s nice of you. Why would you help me?” I ask. She smiles, raising her eyebrows.

  “Someone has to do some damage control around here. I don’t think Rory realizes the effect he has on people. He’s not easily shaken, and he expects others to be the same. You either have to bow to him or refuse to back down. Any half measures will get you eaten alive.”

  “Well, thank you for your help,” I say as she hands me her card.

  “Of course. Enjoy your day, Miss Sawyer,” she replies as she heads off into the building.

  I leave the huge skyscraper through the front doors. As I turn the corner, I give the building the middle finger. If I could be sure nobody could hear me, I’d scream. I don’t know what I did to make Rory Everest hate me, but I felt his disdain the second I walked into the room. He thought I was beneath him.

  I’ll show him.

  My notebook laptop is in my bag. I head straight down the block to the coffee shop on the next street. Before I’ve even taken a sip of my caramel frappé, I’ve booted up my computer and am flexing my fingers, ready to tear into Rory.

  We’ve all heard of Rory Everest, I type furiously. The man who made himself a billionaire within two years. Handsome and rich beyond any normal person’s wildest dreams, he seems like the perfect catch—the most eligible of bachelors.