Shooting Stars Read online

  Shooting Stars

  Lissanne Jones

  Shooting Stars

  Copyright © 2021 by Lissanne Jones

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  www.lissannejones.com

  The right of Lissanne Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

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  E-book ISBN-13: 978-1-922333-13-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-922333-14-8

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  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed, or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google or similar organizations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Cover designed by Bailey Cover Boutique

  Edited by Karen Hrdlicka at Barren Acres Editing

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Lissanne Jones

  Dedication

  For anyone who has ever had to overcome the odds to achieve their dreams. You’re amazing, and don’t let anyone tell you different.

  1

  JASE

  I eyed my best friend carefully as we stood outside the meeting room located on the floor below our private offices. Emilia Quinn may have been about four inches shorter than me and looked as sweet as pie, but she was just as ruthless as I was when it came to negotiating deals.

  When we’d first formed Shooting Stars Enterprises over a decade ago, with very little money and lots of big plans, we were told over and over we’d amount to nothing.

  That New York City would chew us up and spit us out.

  But we were determined to prove the naysayers wrong, and with a lot of grit, charm, and sheer hard work, we were now considered among the elite. People flocked to hear our advice. Attended the occasional speech we gave at thousand dollar a head functions. Hung on to our every word as though it was gospel.

  After all, you didn’t get to build three incredibly successful businesses and a charitable foundation, and earn yourself millions of dollars in the process, without doing something right.

  Our company assets were worth far more, but both Emilia and I had a net worth of around forty million each. The exact figure was something only our lawyers and accountants knew besides us, and we never confirmed or denied any rumors to the contrary.

  It was nobody’s business but ours how much money we had. We’d worked our asses off for years to earn it.

  But I’d have given up every penny of it right now to see my best friend smile.

  She hadn’t done a lot of that since discovering her douchebag boyfriend of eighteen months had been cheating on her with some bimbo he’d picked up at a club.

  Our club, which made it even worse.

  Meteor was the hottest spot in Manhattan. On one side was the nightclub, open to the general public. The lines on Friday and Saturday nights were usually long enough to make potential patrons wait for hours, and wait they did.

  On the other side sat the strip club. It was only open to those willing to pay the ten thousand dollars necessary to become a member, and the monthly fee of five thousand dollars that gave them access to the club at any time of the day or night, all they could eat and drink, and the ability to bring a guest up to ten times a month.

  Private lap dances were an optional extra, but sex was strictly prohibited. The members could look all they wanted but were not permitted to touch our dancers. Their safety was not something we took lightly.

  Our security team was led by Connor Rayden, a former Marine, whom we both trusted with our lives. He was in his early forties and had been honorably discharged after being injured in action. He ran a tight ship and didn’t tolerate any tomfoolery from the men and women on his team.

  Their jobs were critical to ensuring our dancers—and Emilia and I—were safe.

  The club staff were all thoroughly vetted and we interviewed each and every one of them personally before they were offered a contract. All private rooms had security cameras and were monitored around the clock.

  Our employees knew they had safe, secure employment with us, and jobs at our club were highly coveted.

  But at that moment, the only person who mattered to me was my best friend, the one person who’d stuck by my side throughout everything.

  I cupped her chin and tipped her head back, just far enough to look her in the eyes. Hers were a beautiful, rich brown, framed with long, dark eyelashes. “Hey, sweetheart,” I crooned softly. “You ready to do this?”

  She straightened her spine and a look of determination appeared on her face as she nodded. “Yes. Let’s go crush this asshole.”

  The asshole to whom she was referring was Justin Lloyd. He was in his late thirties and owned a small online store that sold sex toys. It was nothing compared to our own store, Hidden Pleasures, which also sold sex toys and lingerie, but he sold one item we’d been trying unsuccessfully to procure for months.

  It was a travel-sized clitoral vibrator, which had been endorsed by a famous actress in an interview six months previously. It was no different than other models on the market apart from the color: a rose gold/blush pink combination that was quite pretty—and immensely popular.

  Emilia had purchased one so we could see it in person, and we were convinced this particular color combo would sell like hotcakes in our store. The trouble was that the company who’d designed it had refused our generous offers to become distributors, claiming exclusivity with Justin Lloyd.

  We’d considered designing and making our own vibrator, but in the end had decided it was a better use of our time and money to simply buy Lloyd’s company from him and acquire it that way. Whatever products he had in stock we’d either sell cheaply or bundle with other products to move, but we were confident the vibrator we had our eye on would be a best seller.

  So when we heard through the grapevine he was looking to sell the business for cash, we quietly let it be known we might be interested in buying it. It hadn’t taken long for word to get back to him, and he’d called our office to arrange a meeting within days.

  Lloyd was a cocky, smarmy prick who fancied himself quite the playboy. Our paths had crossed from time to time at various business events, including trade shows where manufacturers showed off the latest in the sex toy industry with the hope of picking up a distributor.

  “Kiss for good luck?” Emilia’s question pulled me out of my thoughts, and I pressed my lips against hers briefly. It had become somewhat of a ritual for us to kiss before we went into an important meeting.

&nbs
p; I opened the door and allowed her to step into the room ahead of me. We shook hands with Lloyd, whom we’d left sitting there for fifteen minutes.

  “Sorry we’re late.” Emilia didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. “We got held up in another meeting.”

  “Not a problem, not a problem. Glad to have the chance to sit down with you and discuss business.”

  We’d done our homework and had discovered his company was failing, even with the famous vibrator in stock. He’d basically run it into the ground, spending far above his means and indulging in a lavish lifestyle he couldn’t possibly sustain.

  He also had about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of stock alone, which had been incredibly stupid of him to buy up front, given his turnover for the last two years. He hadn’t even sold a third of that, although the endorsement for the vibrator had seen his income increase by three hundred percent for that one item alone since the article had run in the media.

  After looking over all the data and talking it through over the course of several early morning meetings in our home office, Emilia and I had agreed on a figure we were both comfortable with.

  Knowing he had approximately two thousand units of the vibrator in stock, which he sold online for a hundred bucks a piece, we were going to offer him seventy-five thousand for the company and all its stock. It was worth it for the vibrator alone.

  Our personal assistant, Marian O’Donnell, had set up a meeting. Lloyd hadn’t been able to say yes fast enough, and I could tell by his posture—and the slightly wild expression on his face— that he wasn’t quite as relaxed about this meeting as he wished to portray.

  He was nervous about being in our company, something we were used to. A lot of people found it intimidating to be in our presence, especially when the two of us were together. We used it to our advantage as much as possible.

  Lloyd and I chatted for a few minutes about various mutual acquaintances to break the ice, Emilia choosing to stay mostly silent.

  Finally, it was time to purchase our newest acquisition, and I began, “Speaking of business, let’s get down to it.”

  Emilia and I had this down to a fine art. One of us would lead the meeting, and the other would go in for the kill at the appropriate moment. It was my turn to lead this time.

  I looked Lloyd directly in the eye. “Emilia and I understand you’re looking to sell your business, and we’re interested. We’ve put together an offer we think is fair and equitable and would like to make the arrangements as soon as possible to get your stock into our distribution centers.”

  My business partner opened her red leather folder, which contained a notepad and pen, and reached for the contract sitting on the top.

  Lloyd held up his hands. “Whoa! Hold on a second here. Who told you I want to sell the entire business?”

  Her hand hovered over the contract as I spoke. “Are you saying it’s not true?”

  His eyes narrowed at us as he fidgeted in his seat. “I’m willing to discuss the possibility, but you should know it’s going to cost you a pretty penny.”

  “And why is that?”

  Emilia’s sharp question made him pause for a few moments. “My business is incredibly successful. Sales are flying out the door, thanks to Audrey Monroe’s endorsement. I won’t even consider an offer less than...”

  He trailed off, drawing it out, and my gaze bored into him. I didn’t have time for the theatrics. “Just spit it out, Lloyd.”

  Sitting back in his chair, he crossed one leg over his knee at the ankle and gave us a smarmy grin. “Two hundred thousand should do it.”

  Years of experience meant neither of us reacted to his ridiculous figure, but it did mean Emilia reached for the second contract hidden underneath the first. Our offer had just dropped to forty thousand.

  We always prepared two contracts for situations like this.

  She took a deep breath, which meant she was ready to send this guy’s hopes up in smoke.

  I sat back to watch the magic happen and fought to keep the smile off my face.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit, Mr. Lloyd.” Her tone was crisp. “Your business is failing. You have one hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of stock languishing in a derelict warehouse that you can’t sell. Before Audrey Monroe mentioned the vibrator in her interview six months ago, you were barely moving thirty units a month.”

  I watched Lloyd carefully and delighted in seeing the blood drain from his face as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

  Emilia continued on, “Unless a miracle occurs, you’ll have to close your online store within the next three months, even with the money the vibrator has brought in. You can’t afford to continue paying your creditors and the rent on the warehouse.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “We’ve done our research, Mr. Lloyd, and we don’t appreciate being hoodwinked. Here’s our offer.” She slid the contract across the table. “We’re prepared to give you forty thousand dollars for your entire stock, including all two thousand units of the vibrator in question. Please read the contract with your attorney carefully, but know our offer only stands for forty-eight hours.”

  He rubbed his jaw, glancing down at the paperwork, while Emilia and I exchanged brief grins. I loved seeing her take down men like Lloyd. She was a queen in the boardroom and I worshipped her.

  “I-I-” he stuttered, lost for words. Then, shaking his head, he pulled a pen out of his jacket and signed on the dotted line before pushing the contract back over to Emilia.

  “You’ll need a lawyer to sign the contract as well, just a legality to ensure you weren’t coerced into signing it. Call our assistant when it’s done and we’ll have a courier come pick it up. Once we have it back, we’ll arrange a wire transfer to your nominated account of the entire amount the same day.”

  She stood, and I followed suit. “We’ll arrange for the stock to be picked up from your warehouse at the end of the week. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Lloyd.”

  We headed for the door, the meeting over, and waited until he followed us, contract tucked into his black folder. We shook his hand and put him on the next elevator down to the lobby before taking the stairs up one floor to where our office was located.

  Marian stood when she saw us. Our personal assistant had been with us from the beginning, taking as big a chance on us as we had on her. In her late forties at the time, she’d just divorced the man she’d been married to for over twenty years after she’d caught him fucking his secretary, leaving her to raise her two teenage daughters alone.

  What the hell was wrong with some men? They had these beautiful women in their lives and couldn’t stop themselves sticking their dicks in someone else.

  Ten years on, she’d stuck with us as our businesses had grown and was as close to family as we had. Like a mother hen, she made sure we ate properly and took time out for ourselves so we wouldn’t burn out.

  “How did it go?”

  Emilia held up a fist and Marian bumped it with her own. “He signed the contract on the spot.”

  “He took the seventy-five thousand?”

  “We only offered him forty.” I gave her a grin. “He tried to extort us for two hundred grand, so that cost him thirty-five.”

  Marian laughed and shook her head. “You two are ruthless and I love it.” She picked up two separate piles of small pink notes and handed one to each of us. “Your messages from this morning.” We’d gone straight into this meeting with Lloyd from the one we’d had before it, so had been away for a couple of hours.

  Emilia followed me through the door which led to my office and parked herself in one of the chairs with a sigh. We shared this side of the floor, our offices separated only by a glass wall with a door we pretty much always kept open unless we needed some privacy.

  A private bathroom and dressing room ran along the wall facing north, and directly opposite our offices was a private meeting room, where we met our company heads and their assistant managers every Monday morni
ng, and the elevator. A reception area sat along the wall facing south, and Marian’s desk was in front of our offices.

  “That went easier than I thought.”

  I chuckled at her statement. “You’re not wrong. He looked like he was going to piss himself when you delivered the smackdown.”

  She gave me a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s a worm. He’ll probably blow the forty thousand in two months.”

  “Probably. And even if we sell the vibrators for eighty bucks a piece, that’s still a gross of a hundred and sixty thousand from that product alone.”

  Emilia studied me carefully across the large, polished wood desk. “You think we should undercut his pricing? He’s selling at one hundred just fine.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Right, but if we put it on sale for eighty, we’ll likely sell all two thousand units within a month and can buy ten thousand more as soon as we have the signed contract from Lloyd.”

  “Then we jack the price back up to a hundred.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her mouth twitched and the first genuine smile I’d seen in days made the corners curl up. “I like the way you think, Mr. Bennett.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, Miss Quinn.”

  We flicked through our messages and I couldn’t miss the shaky sigh my business partner let out. My head came up to look at her. “What’s wrong, Em?”