CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JAX
THE ALGORITHMS DROVE me through the roof of my office, to the damn edge of my building, and nearly off to the crowded street below as I worked on them.
I was missing shit.
I knew it, and I couldn't reformulate it well enough to fix it.
I shoved away from my desk and grabbed my phone, frustrated enough to want to lash out at someone. That usually meant calling some woman I could rage fuck and leave, but after running circles around Aubrey for the past month, I could only picture her.
I dialed her number, wanting to hear her voice and grate on her nerves a little. She didn't answer though.
Jay popped his head into my office just as I was rolling my chair back to switch gears to look at my stocks. “Hey, you know where Jett is?”
I looked at my calendar. “He's in a meeting with marketing for another hour. And what the hell are you doing here?”
“Got a few days off and had to run some moves past Jett. Plus, I miss my girl.”
“You're dating someone here?” I was half listening to him as I read through some of the financial gains we'd made over the past month.
“Only girl I've ever had is Brey.”
When he said her name, my body jumped to attention a little too quickly. He knew he'd pushed the wrong button because he was smiling like a son of a bitch when I glared at him. “Fuck you, Jay.”
He laughed.
I shook off the way he was trying to rile me. “You flying to see her after you talk with Jett?”
“Nope.” The word popped out of him like he was excited to answer me. “She needs to get out more. My driver should be bringing her to the building in an hour or two to see Jett.”
“Your driver? What do you mean your fucking driver is …”
He backed out of the office, smiling, and slammed the door before I could finish.
“His driver?” I repeated, muddling through it all again and feeling something a lot like jealousy stirring in my gut.
Why the hell hadn't she answered and why the fuck was she getting picked up by his driver?
As if on cue, I received a vague text from her.
Peaches: In town to see Jay. Maybe we’ll run into each other.
Maybe? She barely acknowledged that she was in my town, and now she thought that maybe we would run into each other?
“Maybe,” I grunted and shoved back from my desk dramatically.
I undid my suit jacket and whipped it onto the chair. Unfastening my sleeves, I rolled them to my elbows as I made my way to the elevators.
The elevators had been an extreme addition of this tower a few years back. I'd been a year into investing with my father when we remodeled.
My father pushed for conservative, I pushed for innovation, domination, and perfection. He and Jett had given me control of the look and feel of the lobby and elevator, knowing investors wanted something sleek and young.
The waterfall that cascaded around the elevator created an illusion of moving through water. The clear view out of the elevators was only one way as the elevator appeared like a dark bullet flowing through the water faster than most did.
It represented our strategy.
I thought it represented my lifestyle too. I thought I flowed through each of my experiences efficiently, smoothly, fluidly and stealthy. I detected those around me from within those elevator doors. I had access to what I needed–always. My FOB gave me access to floors in this building that not even my father had access to.