House of Cards (Tech Billionaires) Read online

  House of Cards

  Tech Billionaires book 1

  A Novel

  by:

  Ainsley St Claire

  Copyright 2020 Ainsley St Claire

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a production of the author’s imagination. Locations and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locations is completely coincidental.

  Tech Billionaires: House of Cards/Ainsley St Claire—1st edition

  Contents

  Dedication & Thank you’s

  Chapter 1

  Jonathan

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Jonathan

  Chapter 4

  Jonathan

  Chapter 5

  Maggie

  Chapter 6

  Jonathan

  Chapter 7

  Jonathan

  Chapter 8

  Maggie

  Chapter 9

  Jonathan

  Chapter 10

  Maggie

  Chapter 11

  Jonathan

  Chapter 12

  Maggie

  Chapter 13

  Jonathan

  Chapter 14

  Jonathan

  Chapter 15

  Maggie

  Chapter 16

  Maggie

  Chapter 17

  Maggie

  Chapter 18

  Maggie

  Chapter 19

  Jonathan

  Chapter 20

  Jonathan

  Chapter 21

  Maggie

  Chapter 22

  Maggie

  Chapter 23

  Jonathan

  Chapter 24

  Maggie

  Chapter 25

  Maggie

  Chapter 26

  Jonathan

  Chapter 27

  Maggie

  Chapter 28

  Jonathan

  Chapter 29

  Maggie

  Chapter 30

  Maggie

  Chapter 31

  Jonathan

  Chapter 32

  Maggie

  Chapter 33

  Maggie

  Chapter 34

  Jonathan

  Chapter 35

  Maggie

  Chapter 36

  Jonathan

  Chapter 37

  Maggie

  Chapter 38

  Jonathan

  Chapter 39

  Maggie

  Chapter 40

  Jonathan

  Epilogue

  Jonathan

  Note from Ainsley

  Sneak Peak

  Royally Flushed

  Chapter 1

  Corrine

  Also by Ainsley St Claire

  Coming Soon

  Follow Ainsley

  Forbidden Love

  CHAPTER ONE

  Emerson

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dillon

  Dedication & Thank you’s

  For my amazing husband who supports me and loves me. Our love is my inspiration.

  Thank you to my editor, Jessica Royer Ocken who tore this book apart and helped me put it back together again.

  Thank you to my typo hunter team, each of you are so important to making this as close to perfect as we can get: Anne, Courtnay, Linda, Lynda, and Nancy.

  Chapter 1

  Jonathan

  I’m nervous. As I move through my casino, I stop to breathe into my hand and take a quick smell.

  It doesn’t smell like anything other than my clean hand. Does this really work to tell if your breath is bad? I don’t know. But I need to figure it out before Maggie gets here.

  I’ve been in love with Maggie Reinhardt since we were teenagers, and she called out of the blue to tell me she’s flying in and wants to see me.

  She was here a few months ago during the pre-opening for the Shangri-la, my casino resort on the Las Vegas strip, when her brother’s venture capital firm held a corporate meeting here, and he and his fiancée eloped. We reconnected, fell into bed, and it was amazing. It was everything I’ve ever dreamed of. We’ve traded emails and texts and phone calls since then, and I’ve been asking her to come back. But she’s busy with work, and then her dad passed away last month. I went home to Minneapolis for the funeral, but the family was surrounded, and I was buried in the Shangri-la’s official opening back here, so I didn’t stay long, and Maggie and I didn’t really connect.

  Her father was an icon. He inherited a high-end department store called Reinhardt Hudson when Maggie and her brother were young, and over time he added what became the second-largest discount retailer, Bullseye, and a mid-level department store called Murphy’s to the company fold. He was a real pioneer in the retail world. But as I understand it, neither of his sons wants to take over as chairman of the board now that he’s gone.

  One of those sons, Maggie’s brother Christopher, is my best friend. He’s held that title since we were in diapers. He told me a while back that when their father was gone, they’d find someone to run the day-to-day operations at the company, so he or Stevie would probably just chair the board in name only. Maggie manages the Reinhardt Foundation, but I’m hoping she won’t be tied to living in Minneapolis forever.

  When she gets here, I’m going to make my move. I’m going to ask her to move to Vegas, and we’ll start making plans to get married. That’s all there is to it.

  I’ve loved her for most of my life, and I created the Shangri-la for her.

  This is a good plan, I tell myself as I move through the casino. I love the musical sound the slot machines make. I even have a section of my hotel with old-time slots that actually use coins. They say they aren’t as profitable as today’s machines, but everyone loves the musical beat of coins hitting the tray as the machine spits out winnings.

  My hotel is not yet a year old, and already we’re working in the black. I love this town.

  Anyway, I never take time off, but while Maggie is here, it will be essential. Shortly after I arrive at the staff meeting this morning, which is held over breakfast, I drop the bomb.

  “Listen,” I tell them. “I’m thinking of taking a few days off this week.”

  My team consists of my head of marketing, head of sales, the head of the casino, the head of guest relations, the head of guest rooms, the head of security, the head of housekeeping, and the head of maintenance. These people are essential to my operation and have been with me since I started with my concept. They all stop mid-bite and look at me. I’m expecting some push back.

  “It’s your hotel,” says Gillian Reece, my head of guest relations and right-hand woman. “You don’t have to run anything by us.”

  I nod, a bit surprised. “Good. I have a friend coming into town, and I want to spend some time with her.”

  “Uh-oh…” my head of casino teases. “It’s a her? May your dry spell be broken.”

  I smile. I’m not going to dignify that with a response.

  Maggie and I haven’t said we’re exclusive, and when you own a large resort that’s the newest shiny object for tourists to visit, you don’t have a lot of time to date. If I have an occasion that requires someone on my arm, it’s only a friend
.

  Our staff discussion quickly dissolves into lots of ribbing and teasing. I don’t mind. I like that we’re close.

  When our meeting breaks up, Gillian approaches me. “We’ll make sure her stay is perfect.”

  I know what she’s after. She will spoil Maggie to death, but that’s my job. “I’m not telling you her name so you don’t pester her in any way.”

  “Moi? Pester her?” Her smile stretches like the Hoover Dam. “I would never think of doing that.”

  I shake my head to make sure she knows. “Really, it’s not a big deal. This is a friend I grew up with, and she’s my best friend’s baby sister. It’s been three years since I’ve had a day off. Just a couple days,” I stress. “I want to hang out with someone who remembers what I looked like as a pimple-faced, awkward teenager.”

  She harrumphs. “Somehow I doubt you were ever an awkward teenager.”

  I was, but I’m not going to debate that with her. To ensure the Shangri-la’s success, I expel a lot of energy and stress at the gym, so I’m in pretty decent shape.

  As I head off down the hall, I begin to remember how perfect Maggie was beneath me, on top of me, and in front of me, and how delicious she tasted. No, I have every intention of enjoying every second and ordering room service for however long her stay might be.

  I’m meeting her in less than an hour. She didn’t give me much notice, but I was able to sneak in a quick trip to my favorite esthetician for a facial, and I don’t want to be too vain, but I also did some primping with a fresh haircut and a manzilian wax. It hurt like a motherfucker, but it’s clean and tidy and makes me super sensitive. I’m ready for a lot of up-close-and-personal time. I want Maggie to know I’m going to spend the rest of my life making her happy.

  I’m used to walking the property multiple times a day, so I decide to do a quick pass through as I return to my apartment to meet Maggie. I live onsite and made sure the home I set up faced the mountains—away from the strip—and my offices were in a tower across the property, so I’d have to wander through to get to work. I try not to be too predictable and walk through at the same time or take the same path, so I see everything going on at my resort.

  As I stroll along today, the employees I encounter have looks of pure terror on their faces. If they had cartoon bubbles above their heads, they’d read, Don’t talk to me. I don’t know why they’re nervous. I never call anyone out specifically. I make a mental note to bring it up with my team and have them address it, if it’s worth it.

  “Hello, Mr. Best.”

  Ah! Here’s one willing to speak to me. I discreetly glance at her name tag. “Hello, Janice. How are the tables running?”

  “Very well, sir. We’ve had a table of frat boys that’s run hot and cold all night. It may break up now that it’s daylight.”

  I chuckle. “That’s very good news.” I staff beautiful cocktail waitresses, and my pit boss probably put one of our most stunning dealers—who happens to be married to him—on the table to keep the boys in place and spending money.

  My casino manager approaches me. “Hey, boss.”

  “Hi. Sounds like it was a good night last night?”

  “Yes, it was. Spring break will do that.”

  New York City tells the world it’s a town that never sleeps, but here in Vegas that’s not just a saying, it’s our reality. There’s something going on here twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There really isn’t a slow period. During the summer, when Las Vegas is miserably hot, the conventions are buzzing. At Thanksgiving, the Canadians come down in full force because of the deals and because they’ve already celebrated Thanksgiving. And while it’s a little quieter, all the non-Christians come in full force over Christmas. Maybe it’s because I grew up in Minneapolis and hate the snow, but I love the desert. I love the heat. And I’m finding out I love the casino resort business.

  I exit out the far side of the casino floor and head across the property to my apartment. I hardly slept last night. I worked late clearing as much off of my plate as I could so I could take a few days off, and then I was just too excited. Maggie and I have been flirting for months now, and I’ve spent my life getting ready for this moment.

  When I reach my apartment, I settle in at my desk and watch her flight arrive from my computer. A little while later I can see her walk onto our property via the security camera feeds. My heart picks up, and my cock is immediately hard. Her blond hair flows with just the right amount of curl. She’s breathtaking. I watch men and women notice her, but she doesn’t see it. That’s one of her many amazing qualities.

  At first glance, no one would know she’s an heiress to a major department store. I thumb the engagement ring I bought at Cartier months ago. I saw it and knew I wanted to buy it for her. I think she’ll like it. It’s not too ostentatious, but it’s a beautiful eight-karat center stone with the eternity band covered in half-karat diamonds, all set in platinum. I tuck it away in my safe and shut the computer off.

  Moments later, there’s a knock at my apartment door. I open it, and her face lights up.

  “Jonnie!” She’s the only person on this planet who can call me that. She steps in for a hug and holds on a few seconds.

  I’m ready for this every day for the rest of my life. “Mag-pie. You look stunning.”

  “I left the Twin Cities before dawn this morning. I’m tired, grumpy, and I’m sure my makeup is running.”

  She looks perfect.

  “You’re fabulous. Come in.” I usher her into my apartment, toward the view of the mountains and the golden hues of the desert.

  I feel jittery. Maybe if I take her right to the bedroom and fuck her senseless, we can get it out of the way and then talk about our future.

  “I was really excited to get your message,” I tell her.

  She smiles, and I want to kiss her like crazy.

  “It’s been hectic since Dad’s death. The reading of his will had some…surprises for all of us.” She looks away for a moment. “But Christopher and Stevie have been great,” she continues. “My mom, though… She is surprisingly upset.”

  She sits on the couch, and I sit next to her. I reach for her hand, and the chemistry is electric. My cock is so hard right now, and I need to taste her. I lean in for a kiss, but she places her hands on my shoulders.

  I can see the line she gets between her eyes when she’s worried about something.

  “Your mom may be a little cold at times, but I’m sure she’s grieving in her own way.”

  She looks at me with a tight smile.

  “What is it?”

  “Jonnie, I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone, but…”

  My stomach drops.

  “…Alex and I are getting married.”

  Chapter 2

  Maggie

  It physically hurts to tell Jonnie we can’t be involved anymore. I can barely believe I had the guts to say it, since everything in me wants it not to be true. I’ve had a crush on Johnathan Best since I was in middle school. I spent the better part of my youth dreaming about him, and over the past few months he’s shown me how fun and fantastic a relationship can be. And believe me, that was a welcome change since my life at home revolves almost entirely around work and my family’s standing in the community.

  But none of that matters, because I don’t have a choice.

  I’ve always known that our company is first and foremost a family affair. That’s been drilled into me since I was a child. Most children learn to identify cars, or maybe planes. I could identify retail chains and read a profit-and-loss statement before I was ten. At my grandfather’s knee, we learned the importance of growing the family business and never taking it public to be at the mercy of stockholders. We were taught business first and family second. We celebrated when other families gave up their businesses to non-family members, went public, or closed their doors. All the better for us. When my grandfather died, my father assumed his role in the company and pushed the same agenda.

 
It has to be a Reinhardt son at the helm. And once my father was gone, we all knew the duty would fall to one of his sons—otherwise the company would have to be dissolved. The problem is, neither of my brothers is particularly available for the job. Christopher emancipated himself from my parents at age sixteen, and though he’s still part of my life, he will never run the company. And my brother Stevie is not only not interested, he’s not particularly qualified since he’s spent most of the past several years surfing and smoking pot in Hawaii. (I, on the other hand, went to business school and have been growing the foundation portion of the company for several years now. But, you know, I’m a girl, so it doesn’t officially matter—insert eye roll.)

  When my father got sick, Christopher and I devised a plan to hire someone to run the day-to-day operations of the company, which would leave me free to continue my work with the Reinhardt Foundation, and Christopher agreed to take the title of board chair. This probably wasn’t exactly what my grandfather envisioned—especially since Christopher isn’t legally an heir anymore—but it seemed workable to us and would allow the company to continue meeting the terms of the will as a family business.

  However, after my father passed and we gathered for the reading of his will, we realized he had changed one of the provisions my grandfather originally established. Rather than being run by a Reinhardt son, my father had made the chairman of the board position open to any Reinhardt heir, throwing me into the running as well. But the real kicker? He left my grandfather’s archaic provision that says the head of the company must be married.

  After my brothers had gone home, my mother turned her sights on me. She rejected Christopher’s compromise proposal out of hand, and said it was clearly up to me to carry the company forward, as a real heir. And I’d have to get married to do so.

  Whatever Jonnie and I have, we’re nowhere near ready for marriage, and I haven’t opened that relationship to my mother’s scrutiny anyway. It would never survive.

  But Mother had a solution all ready for me—so ready that I now realize she’d likely been working on it for months. The Walker family, owners of Elite Electronics, are close family friends of ours, and their son, Alex, has been my best friend since we were little. Our parents have joked for years that someday Alex and I would marry, but now I’ve learned my mother isn’t kidding.