“The security system you all know me for now was my side project, something I spent years developing. When I sold it, it made me a billionaire, a poster child for success.”
A smattering of applause and several catcalls from the audience made me pause, a smirk dragging the corners of my lips up once again. “Yeah, I know. Lucky me, huh?”
I raised a hand and felt like a fucking superstar or a president when they settled down again almost instantly. It gave my ego that insane boost I got in every high-powered meeting these days, my heart soaring like I’d injected a shot of adrenaline right into it.
This was why I was an entitled douchebag now. I’d earned the fucking right to be because I was entitled to some goddamned respect after all the work I’d done and how shitty I’d been treated before everything had changed.
“An investment by a single man who believed in my vision set me on the course I’m on today. His investment allowed me to finish a product I could take to market and to build the prototypes I needed to be able to demonstrate it.”
Darius had been a millionaire when he’d met me, but he’d died a billionaire a few years ago. All thanks to that belief he’d had in me.
“They say everyone has a million-dollar idea at least a couple of times in their lifetime, but very few people actually put it into action. I’m not interested in those. I’m interested in the billion-dollar ideas, the ones that only come around once in a lifetime for most. After I sold my system, I started investing in businesses I believed in. They’re few and far between, but if you have a new business idea that you think I should know about, one that will take whichever industry you’re in to the next level like mine did, get in touch with me.”
I gave a curt nod and set the mic down on the podium, about to walk offstage when the host appeared again. He hurried to grab the microphone, then turned his sights on me.
“You still have some time left in your slot, Mr. Coning. Maybe you’d like to stay to talk to some people in the crowd, see if they have any ideas you might be interested in investing in.”
“No, thanks.” I dragged a hand through my hair and flicked the other toward the crowd as I shook my head. “It’s a waste of time I don’t have. If they’re real entrepreneurs, they shouldn’t have time to come to a retreat. There’s a reason why I said they should contact me if they have new ideas because there’s nothing here I’m interested in.”
I knew I was being a dick. The host tried to cover for me by shouting my name into the mic he was still holding and asking them to put their hands together for me again, but he shouldn’t have bothered.
Although I hadn’t been holding the microphone, I knew it had caught enough of what I’d said that a decent chunk of the audience would have heard me. Those who hadn’t would hear about it later, I was sure.
It might have been a dick move on my part to say it out loud, but that didn’t mean those people hadn’t needed to hear it. Maybe some of them would find investors for what they were peddling now, but it sure as shit wasn’t going to be me.
Peter was already waiting for me when I got back to the city. The retreat had been held at a lodge only a couple of hours away, so I managed to make it back in time for dinner.
“How’d it go?” he asked when I sat down at the table he’d grabbed in our favorite bar. The food there was cheap, good, and unhealthy, and the beer was cold. In short, it’s perfect.
“It was a quick buck,” I said, signaling to the bartender to bring me a round.
Peter and I had been coming there for years. Charlie knew what we wanted and never failed to deliver.
This was the one place I could cut loose, the only place where they didn’t give a shit about the size of my bank account. I wasn’t even sure they knew how much things had changed in the last few years.
Peter was the only person I’d ever looked up to and, as such, was the only person I generally wasn’t a dick to. His green eyes were several shades lighter than my own, and his hair was a deeper shade of brown, but we had the same height and build.
Some of the tabloid vultures who kept an eye on everyone they deemed rich enough for the society pages had mistaken him for me a few times. I thought it was hilarious. I thought he was going to murder me one day for thinking it was hilarious.
“A quick buck?” He sat back in his seat and lifted a brow at me. “Like you need a quick buck. Find anyone worth investing in there? I know you, bro. Which means I know why you really went. I bet you probably fucked up your speech, too.”
“I didn’t fuck it up. I just chose a different method to inspire than some of the other speakers might have.” I pretended to buff my nails against the breast pocket of my black shirt. “I’m known to be a game-changing, trend-setting badass. Why would I go there to tell them how clever they all are for wasting a thousand bucks on a retreat in the middle of fucking nowhere? They’re idiots and they should know it. If they worked harder, maybe I would have found someone to invest in. I gave them all a kick in the ass. They needed it.”
His deep sigh didn’t hide the twitching at the corners of his mouth. “A game-changing, trend-setting bad ass? Did you come up with that yourself?”
“I was paraphrasing.” I dipped my head in thanks when Charlie dropped off my beer, then took a long swig of the dark liquid. After swallowing the creamy Irish froth I loved, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Anyway, what did we need to talk about so urgently? You nearly gave me a heart attack when you said you needed to see me at my earliest convenience. Since when do you say shit like that?”
“I was with Jenny’s aunt and uncle.” He sighed and rested his hand on top of his glass, turning it slowly between his fingers. “I was trying to make a good impression, if you must know. They still think I’m an uncultured blue-collar worker from the wrong side of town.”
“Dude. You’re a plumber from the other side of the tracks. Therefore, you are a blue-collar worker from the wrong side of town. She grew up a couple of blocks away from us, so she’s from the same wrong side of those damn tracks. Since when do you give a fuck about what anyone thinks about you anyway?”
“Since we picked a wedding date and she’d like her uncle to walk her down the aisle.” He kept his eyes on mine, and when I opened my mouth to protest, he shut me down. “I don’t want to hear it, Cyrus. I asked Jenny to marry me and I’m marrying her.”
My cheeks cooled as blood drained from them. “Please don’t, bro. Don’t marry her. I know you love her, but that’s no reason to rush into anything. You’ve just gotten promoted. Now isn’t the time to—”
“Save it, Cyrus.” His tone had an edge to it that brooked no argument, but I argued anyway.
“I can’t just sit here and shut up. You know how I feel about weddings and marriage and you know why. Why would you willingly open yourself up to that?”
“I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Jenny isn’t after my money, Cy. She’s not going to leave me because I don’t have any and she’s not interested in what I do have.”
“That’s what I thought once, too.” Bitterness crept into my voice, lacing itself into every word I said. “I’m not saying Jenny is after your money, or after mine for that matter, but marriage only leads to pain. There’s no reason for you to subject yourself to it.”