The Alpha King Call Boy: Chap 47-128

Fiona

Alexander responded to my text just a few minutes later. To my relief, his tone was light and understanding.

He wrote: That’s too bad. Good luck with everything

there and let me know when you’ll be home.

I replied: Of course. I’ll keep you posted.

Three moving dots told me Alexander was typing. I sat watching, waiting for this next reply for several seconds before I noticed what I was doing.

I had business to attend to. Very pressing business. I didn’t have time to waste. I put my phone down and started collecting all the materials I’d need for my strategy meeting.

But then when the phone buzzed again, I couldn’t help but pick it back up.

Alexander: Tell me something I can do for you tonight.

You’ll eat dinner at the office… I could have dessert waiting for you at home. Does that interest you?

I replied: Yes. That sounds wonderful.

Alexander: What are you craving?

I laughed under my breath, pressing my lips together against a guilty smile. He knew full well what he was asking. I toyed with the idea of sending a suggestive reply… but I only had a few minutes before meeting my colleagues. I needed to get back into a professional headspace.

Finally I answered: Chocolate cake.

But then, unbidden by my conscious mind, my fingers also typed and sent: And you.

I cursed at myself under my breath.

He replied: Both will be ready and waiting when you get home.

My mouth started watering, thinking about that. I huffed out an exhale.

Just as I locked my phone, determining to put it away, it buzzed again.

Alexander: Send me something to hold me over until then.

Me: Like what?

Alexander: I have no pics of you. Send me a couple.

I blushed. I am not a girl who loves taking selfies, or has any special talent for doing so with flattering results. I glanced up at my office door, which was ajar. And again at the clock. I was running out of time.

I replied: Can’t now. Maybe later.

Alexander: I’ll hold you to that.

I shook my head, locked the phone and put it in my purse, then put my purse away in the drawer where I kept it. That was enough distraction for now.

My stomach growled again. It was time to get some food in my system – my energy was totally shot after I’d lost my breakfast – and then get down to work.

Alexander

Onlookers cowered, stared, and whispered to each other as I passed through the crowded lobby and security checkpoint of the old courthouse.

It was something I was used to.

This was how people reacted to my presence

everywhere. Ever since I returned from war.

Sometimes the people recognized me. I’d hear my name in their whispers. “That’s Alpha Alexander!”

Other times, they had no idea who I was. But either way, they always took notice. My stature alone does plenty to command attention in any room. And I suppose my time at war did something to change the way I move through the world. That part is more difficult to explain.

I ignored the stolen glances and wide-eyed stares alike. I did have to smirk at a few funny remarks I overheard, but I never trifled to make eye contact with anyone.

I stepped up to the elevator bay just as one elevator rolled its doors open and released a diverse bunch of suit-clad passengers. They startled slightly, each in

turn, when they noticed me.

There were dozens of people waiting around for an upwards-heading elevator. But once this one emptied and I stepped inside, only a few others dared to join me.

Zero men. Just one unfazed elderly lady and two younger women who were accompanying her, and a tall, blonde, expensively-dressed attorney whose heart I heard beating fast as she came to stand very close beside me.

“You’ve been summoned.” My lawyer passed a manila envelope to me from across the table. “The trial starts next week. I can’t tell you right now when you’ll be called to give your testimony, but I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

“Great,” I muttered, opening the envelope and

scanning the document.

Testifying against Scarlet in her embezzlement trial was not a problem in itself. But court appearances could be very time-consuming, and time wasn’t something I had in endless supply right now.

I was pleased, though, to see some confirmation that my father was actually going through with it. That Scarlet hadn’t somehow convinced him to drop the charges against her. Yet.

There was still a long way to go. The criminal hearing was just the first step. Sentencing would follow a guilty verdict in the first trial. There was no doubt—in my mind, or just about anyone’s—that Scarlet was guilty. But I couldn’t take it for granted that she was going to wind up actually being held accountable for this crime.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about, as well,” I told Brandon.

My attorney was a tall, sturdy man in his early forties with youthful facial features that contrasted sharply against his prematurely pale gray hair. He had stern gray eyes that were slightly magnified by black-rimmed glasses, and always wore expensive gray suits with silk ties and pocket squares in shades of red and purple.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“It’s about Crescent Ventures. I’m considering going after some publicity, both for myself and for the company. Starting with letting my ownership become public knowledge.”

Brandon leaned back in his chair, nodding along as I continued. He was well aware, of course, of my role in

the venture capital firm, and the reasons I had for keeping it private all these years.

“My fiancée suggested I do an interview. Tell me your thoughts on that.”

“Well, be careful with interviews, that’s the first thing I’ll tell you. Reporters are liable to be a lot more interested in your involvement with your stepmother’s trial, right now, than they are in what you want to talk about. That’s what they’ll be after, if they book an interview with you. They’ll push you for it. Could become a very delicate situation.”

“Fair point.” I held my face neutral, though I felt like frowning.

“The trial will last a couple months,” Brandon continued. “Or longer. As your attorney, I strongly recommend that you wait until it is over before you

start your press tour. However long it takes. It’s in your best interest.”

I indulged a guilty pleasure on the way to my next meeting.

Our accountants worked in a separate, smaller building half a mile uptown from Crescent Ventures headquarters. It was easier to park a couple blocks south and cross diagonally through a city park to get there, than it was to try to find a spot right in front of the building itself.

The only problem was the hot dog vendor who sold some absolutely delectable treats from a cart in the center of the park. The small, portly man smiled when he saw me from a distance, topping a fresh footlong hot dog with mustard and relish before I even reached him. I traded him a crisp twenty dollar bill for it; we made our exchange quickly and I hardly slowed my

stride across the park. He knew to keep the change.

I was always telling myself to stop eating street food.

It was the definition of unhealthy. But just about every time I walked up to this building, I gave in. I needed recovery calories after my morning activities, anyway.

The hot dog was gone by the time I reached the other end of the park.

I chewed a handful of breath mints in the elevator, combed my hair back with my fingers, straightened my tie and buttoned my jacket to make myself presentable.

“I apologize for my uncle’s absence,” I told our accountants as we settled in for our weekly check-in meeting. “He’s away on some unrelated business this week.”

The two of them exchanged a glance. They muttered

some overlapping niceties: “No problem at all,” “totally fine.”

They did not mind Conrad’s absence. I appreciated that they were professional enough not to smile outright about it though.

My uncle is a well-respected man, but he is also a shark. He always gets his way. That’s not often a pleasant person to be in a room with. It also happens to be why I trust him so unilaterally with the company.

On top of that, my boisterous uncle’s egregious speaking volume, and the way he can never stop moving his body… these things, I think, people find annoying. And maybe a little scary, too. Unnerving.

I finished my business with the accountants quickly. I reviewed a batch of reports, signed about a dozen checks, and was on my way out once I had warm

photocopies of everything to take home with me.

I made another stop on my way back through the park, this time at a newsstand. I grabbed up copies of all the business magazines they had in stock. Plus a couple more rolls of breath mints.

I checked my phone when I was back in the car.

No response from Fiona since our earlier exchange.

I chuckled to myself. She wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t going to send me any pictures.

Well. Maybe if I pestered her about it enough, she might.