Both Billionaires | h.s.

2

"What is this?" I asked out loud from my office.

"Yes Miss. What is your inconvenient?" my assistance, Jack, asked me from behind his desk. Reading some manuscripts can be quiet stressful sometimes when the author actually has a good climax in the story but not a good ending. They spoiled all the curiosity and exaltation they produce to the readers.

"Darling, here it says that Renee dies being hit by a car when she was crossing the street. You read this book with me my dear, but why did this happens when it had such a good story built up and still could be developed?" I wanted to cry and throw myself out of the window.

"This manuscript is crap, and it will never be publish, or at least in my Publisher it will not" I said and took a long drag out of my cigarette.

"Why is keeping you so stressed out babe?" Jack asked. If I was honest, the actions and stocks, everyday the New York Times was 100 stocks over me and it made me go number two in the food chain. Everyone who has a business wants to be number one, the last book Gat Publisher published was more sell out than The Times book.

My broker, Harry, who was asked to be very attentive with my office place, is a broker at Wall Street, being number one thanks to the work he puts as a CEO.

"I think I will have to talk to Mr. Styles" I suggested to Jack. Dropping my thin body into my leather seat watching Manhattan's skyline.

That same afternoon after crossing the Queensboro Bridge and go through Queens, I arrived home.

"Miss Gatsby, I didn't know you were expected this evening" Harry said in an interested voice, as if to know the things and preoccupations that were craving under my light skin.

"It is still afternoon Edward" I exclaimed making fun of him. Giving him a chaste kiss on his smooth and milky skin, my lips feeling sticky with my red lipstick in Harry's cheek.

"I will like to know why you call me by my second name and not my main one?" He asked me looking sweetly in my eyes while he plopped down in his fine sofa.

"Your name is so informal. Harry; it tastes sour and bitter as it rolls down my tongue. As if you were one of those workers we see every day at Queens" I said criticizing his character. "But, Edward, sound as if you were a senator, a duque. So formal and cool" I said lightning up my cigarette and inserting it in the long and black mouthpiece.

"Why are you here?" He finally asked.

"I shall ask for a request of yours. It needs to be done the most secretly way of them all without leaving any suspect on us" I said and puffed out some smoke.

"Keep talking" He leaned forward with his elbows on his lap and his gelled hair staying still with his sudden movement.

"Gat Publisher is 100 stocks down from the Times Publisher. I need you to change that" I said looking at him as he moved to the bar.

"And how, Renata, would you suggest I do that?" He asked opening a new Chandon Champagne.

"With my money. The only way I found possible this idea is by me paying you now sweetheart. You see, people this days are fools, dumb fools who do not care about details of environment. Every stock The Times gets will be putted as if it was mine, you will give me the money of does stocks because they need to be seen as received, but you my darling will be floating in green papers because I will pay you the triple for each stock. 155.000 dollars if I am correct" I said.

"I think I am quiet excited to say that we have a deal Gatsby. But, how do you know it will actually work? Do you know it for fact?" He looked at me curiously waiting patiently for my answer.

"I am not a brut, I am the most intelligent woman you will ever meet till the day of your death Styles" I sweetly smiled at him.

"We have a deal Renata" he paused. "What do you think about dinner today? At Reenause, wouldn't it be lovely to have a chat while eating good food. Or we can simply stay at the Plaza for the rest of the afternoon smoking and drinking our minds out. What do you think?" He finished his last sip of champagne and set the glass cup in the bar counter top.

"Let's go to the Plaza, I will like to get drunk and chat about foolish things that are going on in Wall Street" I said and stood up, but not after turning off my cigarette in the ashtray.

Getting in Harry's blue coupe gave me the sensation of anxiety and excitement, I was looking for all the questions he was going to make in the car. The not so good thing is that we had to go back to town, I hated the road to get on town. Queens was all so dark and dirty, there were no livings or shops. It was dull like sad eyes who didn't have any emotion. The only things you could see were a little bar and a gas station for one car, that was all. The rest was mountains of charcoal and dirt brought by the Queens' workers.

"So how is your family?" first question.

"Same old Edward, my brother and my mother are just fine" I said and put my sun glasses on.

"Your brother? I knew you have one but, have you seen him?" Harry said, while going wild with the speed of his car making my short hair to move, but his to stay still.

"Alexander, he comes often. I see him every week to be honest, he has the same car as I do. A cream bright Duesenberg" I said.

"So your brother have been here all week and you have not present him to me yet. The only car in your street is that one because your is at the mechanic" he frowns his eyebrows as we leave behind that horrible place.

"My dear, that is my car, he never brings it because he prefers the Yellow Cab" I said and smile a little thinking of the stupid ideas of my brother.

"And what does he do for a living?" Harry asked. I am quiet uncomfortable with all his asking, the feeling of wanting-to-know from him that radiated in the car's air.

"A lot of stuff, but no one is secure of what he actually is. He goes from being a spy to a murder. From a soldier to a life saver. From business man to poor" I said recapitulating about the odd comments society do about my sibling.

"But, you should know what he does right?" Harry asked, looking at me with a raised eyebrow and up and down.

"Well, it is not certain. I do know he doesn't want to tell me, so instead of telling me a lie, he tells me that it is a secret" I shrugged as we ended to cross the bridge.