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She ran her hand down my chest and because I stood still, she must have thought it was an invitation for a kiss. She leaned in, and it was then I put my hands on her shoulders to shove her back gently.
“You should be careful to not hurt me,” she pouted rubbing her belly.
“Why?” I asked.
She looked down at her stomach, “you’ll be a father soon.”
Orson poked his head inside the doorway, “the chopper is ready, sir.”
“Uh, okay Orson. Just a sec.”
“You’re pregnant and it’s mine,” I laughed. “Marissa, you sure are a piece of work.”
“Oh, it’s not a lie. Would you like me to pee on a stick for you? I can do a DNA test if you prefer.”
“Okay Marissa. Whatever you say,” I shook my head as I walked out of the office to find answers to more important matters than some fake baby.
“What should I tell Rylie, Sir?” Orson shouted over the sound of the helicopter.
“It’s Gia. I don’t know, tell her I had an unexpected meeting.”
“Will do, Sir.”
***
We soon landed in Boston, at Green House Technological Research Institute. I had tried to call Dylan multiple times, but it went to voicemail every time, or his assistant said he was in a meeting. I was going to get some answers one way or another.
I walked straight into his office with his flustered assistant trailing me. His haggard appearance caused me to initially lose some of my steam. The robust man I was used to seeing was now disheveled with plenty of new wrinkles on his face. I took a deep breath and reminded myself why I was there.
“Tell me that you didn’t use my money to fund The Wonder Project. Tell me Marissa was confused,” I demanded as I could feel my childhood demon growing again inside of me.
I hated this feeling. This was why I did not want to help take down the camp with Jon. I worked hard to keep the monster inside at bay because when it grew too big, I wreaked havoc. I could not control it. I was already on edge from Marissa’s parting statement, and I could feel the volcano about to burst.
I saw the light in Dylan’s eyes die and my body relaxed a little. He gestured for me to sit on the couch with him.
“Start talking Dylan.”
“We haven’t spoken in five years and this is how you treat your friend?”
“My friend?” I scoffed. “That is the reason why I am keeping my composure, and we are not at the other side of the room with your face splattered all over the wall. So, answer me when I ask nicely. Tell me all there is to know about The Wonder Project.”
He stood and walked over to his bar cart, poured two glasses of scotch, then came back to the couch and handed one glass to me as he sat. He exhaled deeply, took a sip, then turned towards me.
“You’re a businessman. You know how these things work.” He sighed. “You know how big fish can sometimes swallow the smaller fish. You know how hard it is for me to survive without important backing.”
“What are you talking about?”
He ran a hand through his hair and stood again.
“Julian, I know you are big on being positive, but there are some lines you shouldn’t cross. I am just saying.”
“Then you have not been paying attention.”
“Just listen to me!” He snapped. “I started a new project and soon found myself in over my head. They offered me a sweet deal, like the one Mr. Fletcher offered you. We both got our golden ticket.”
“No. Uh eh. That is not a comparison. I worked hard for that opportunity. You…you…you took the easy way out you asshole. You came to me with…with…fuck!”
I stood to face him with my hands clenched in fists ready to strike.
