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Conklin's Foundation (Conklin's Trilogy #2)
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Conklin’s Foundation
The second book in Conklin’s Trilogy
Brooke Page
Conklin’s Foundation
By
Brooke Page
Conklin’s Foundation
Copyright 2014 by Brooke Page
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be re-produced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The following story contains mature themes and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
Edited By: Samantha Hondorp
Cover Design By: Perfect Pear Creative
Contact Brooke Page
http://www.facebook.com/authorbrookepage
Email: [email protected]
http://www.twitter.com/brookepage05
http://www.goodreads.com/brookepage
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
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
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
What’s Next
Special Thanks
About the Author
Acknowledgements
First I would like to thank my wonderful family and friends who have encouraged me to write. You all are my inspiration. Thanks to my wonderful husband Andy, who didn’t mind entertaining our beautiful children so I could write more than during nap times and at all hours of the night (even though that is the best time to write!).
Jennifer Ziesemer, you are the best book critique person ever! Thank you for pushing me to do this and for encouraging me along the way. It’s been a crazy process and you have been there for me helping to figure out how this all works. I can honestly say I would have never gotten this far without you; you are the best!
Mom, you are the best proof reader and proof reader ever! Yes, it was embarrassing to discuss some scenes, but you were a great sport!
I’m blessed to have such lovely beta readers, you all know who you are, and I can’t thank you enough. Thank you for your sincere and honest input and opinion! Get ready for book three ladies because it’s going to be a whirlwind!
Perfect Pear Creative, what can I say, you are absolutely amazing. I am so fortunate to have you design the cover. Thank you for bringing Conklin to life!.
To the most spectacular editor out there, Samantha Hondorp! Thanks for spending the time to help polish my book and make me look good!
Thank you to all of the other Indie authors who helped me along the way! I appreciate every one of you taking the time to answer my emails and put up with my fan girl comments and questions! I consider all of you my family, and I love that you are all only a Facebook message away! Angela, Amanda, Michelle, Melissa, Nickie, Trudy, thank you for always being a message away!
Angela- thank you for taking me under your wing. I know I can go to you with any of my crazy questions and your continual support and faith in me is wonderful. I hope to pay you back one day!
To the many bloggers who took the time to read and check out Conklin’s Blueprints and Conklin’s Foundation and post reviews and snippets on your page. Without you helping to get the word out about Tyler and Becca’s story, this would not have been possible.
Anna and Tiffany- Thank you for all that you do for me with spreading the word and helping me try and organize my crazy thoughts!
Karen- I would be lost without you! Not just because you HTML EVERYTHING for me, but because you are a valued and honest friend. You are amazing and don’t ever let anyone tell you anything different!
Most importantly, thank you to YOU the readers! I am forever grateful for your everlasting support!
Prologue
RJ Conklin
I sat at my desk biting my nail, staring with pride at the brick on my desk. An RJ brick it was called. I invented it when I was 19. Some might say I was egotistical for naming it after myself, but it was a fucking brilliant idea. I didn’t tell anyone about it at first, kept it to myself to hide my personal remedies from Mary and my parents. Mary turned into a real bitch once she got pregnant with Nathan and got pissed that I would partake without her.
I ran my finger along the edge of the brick, trying to find the small nub that would cause the concrete to slide open. It was a pain in the ass to find, but that was the point. No one was supposed to know it opened but would think it was just a slab of cement. I finally found the nub and opened the far side, pulling out two pieces of paper.
The first piece of paper was a note from my father Robert Conklin Sr. It basically said he loved me, that I needed to realize that family was what was important in life, and that I needed to cherish my boys, love and be faithful to my wife… blah, blah, blah.
I knew I wasn’t a good husband to Mary, but she wasn’t the best wife either. We never should have gotten married in the first place. We were too young, and although we thought we were in love, we weren’t ready for the ultimate commitment. The best thing we had was sexual chemistry, and we rarely partook in activities between the sheets anymore. Occasionally it would happen if we were at our Chicago home, but I typically bounced around from city to city, dealing with business and building my empire.
Conklin Architecture, Construction, and Design was growing at an exponential rate, and my name was front and center. I was already filthy rich, but I wanted more. Money gave me power and control, and I needed to be in control.
As for cherishing my boys… it was a hard task for me to show. Yes, I loved them. I wasn’t going to get the father of the year award, but I was young when we had them, and I wasn’t ready to be a role model. I think we have come a long way though. Mitch and I get along; we share the same interests for the most part. He doesn’t have a lick of common sense, but he is smart around the construction site and has helped me redraft the RJ brick to make it more efficient. I pushed him to use these skills, just as I pushed my other two boys to use their special gifts as well.
Nathan and I got along fairly well also. We mainly talked business, and he was good at talking. He knew how to make deals and gain clients. My company would always be in good hands with Nathan around. He was loveable and could be manipulative, which is exactly what I needed for my marketing. He wasn’t worth a shit when it came to numbers and finance, and my head spun as well whenever account sheets were put in front of me. That is where Tyler came into play.
Tyler was the quietest of the bunch and showed the most animosity and resentment towards me. I didn’t fucking care. I made him a successful financial guru by pointing
out his talents and forcing him to enhance them in college. He probably wouldn’t ever forgive me for making him “give up his dream” to play baseball. He was making me millions. The kid could read numbers and knew where and how to cut costs and invest like a Wall Street maniac. He was my biggest asset, and I would do everything in my power to keep him.
Tyler wasn’t always an ice block towards me. It was mainly after he graduated from college that he brought the chill on. But lately he has been an arctic blizzard and very easy to rile. It was fun to get Tyler going, to see the steam practically pour off his face. He reminded me of Mary; she was easy to rile as well, and she was a turn on when she was fuming.
The little Miss Becca Stine seemed to get him all flustered. I never saw Tyler with a girl, and he seemed to think I hadn’t caught on to his infatuation with Max Stine’s, the key holder to Grand Rapids, daughter. Nothing got by me, ever.
I noticed his eyes follow her every move when Becca came up to meet with me in my office for the first time. She was a very pretty girl, and she blushed easily, another expression I enjoyed making women show. But I wouldn’t take her too far. I wasn’t going to fuck around with our main client’s daughter, and none of my boys better fuck with her either. But then I saw the look in Tyler’s eyes as he was chasing after her at Stine’s Christmas party.
He loved her.
I knew that feeling for one woman, and it unfortunately wasn’t my wife. I opened up the other folded piece of paper and brushed it with my fingertips, leaning over my desk holding my other hand under my chin gazing at the few words on the crumpled paper.
RJ,
I’m sorry, I can’t run away with you. I can’t do that to your family. But know that I do love you. If things were different we could be together.
Love Always,
Margo
I wasn’t going to mess with Tyler and his swooning over Becca Stine anymore. Hell, I’m rooting for him. Tyler being with the city’s dominating successful business owner’s daughter would guarantee every large building in the city to be contracted out by my company. And I would need more Conklin blood to continue on my empire when I was gone. Nathan wasn’t into that, and Mitch probably had a few bastard children but would never settle down and become a father. Tyler and Becca might be my only hope to spread on the name.
Even though I wasn’t a perfect father, I wouldn’t mess with my son being in love. Well, not too much at least. I still enjoyed making steam roll from his ears.
I sighed as I folded up the papers and put them back into the RJ brick. I would give anything to live on an island with Margo. I stood up and lifted it to put the brick back on my shelf. The fucker was heavy as a normal brick too. Cops would never figure it out. At least they hadn’t yet.
There was one problem my supposed glorified father created for this company. He sold the RJ bricks to the biggest drug dealers in each city where we broke ground. Yeah, it is a good idea, but now they were causing me a headache, coming into my office demanding my bricks. We had to keep them on a low profile or else the pigs were going to catch on, and then it would be my ass at stake. Although I don’t think they could ever pin anything on me. I’m not dealing with the drugs; I just sell the drug dealers bricks that double for safety boxes and key holders. How am I supposed to know what people put in my bricks?
All I know is that if Lee Chino comes into my office making more demands, I might have to put a kibosh on the whole scheme and retire my lovely bricks.
Chapter 1
I sat frozen in the middle a circular room, unable to move my feet. When I looked down I couldn’t see them. They were sunken into the floor which happened to be sand. A panicked breath escaped me as I jerked my head upward, staring at myself in a large mirror. My eyes spun, and I was surrounded by mirrors, but each mirror held a different image.
The first image was of Jamie, my best friend. She was wearing a leather dress as though she came right out of a Native American exhibit. She had her head bent down, her eyes narrowed and demonic, shaking her head back and forth. Her eyes went red as she clenched her jaw. I gasped and turned to the next mirror, afraid of her heartless expression.
When I turned I saw my virginity holder and friend, Gage, shirtless and wearing dark leather pants with frayed beading. His eyes were red as well, and he was tutting and slowly shaking his head back and forth while licking his lips. His hand came out of the mirror, and I scurried back, only to ram into another set of mirrors. I quickly spun then took steps backwards in the sand that was devouring me, now to my knees. I saw Ashlynn, my ex best friend, barely clothed with Connor, my ex-boyfriend, caressing her stomach, staring intently at the side of her face while she brushed his cheek, keeping her eyes on me. Her eyes turned from green to red as she stared intently at me, cocking her head to the side then grasping Connors hair, pulling him to her mouth while she kept her eyes locked with mine, kissing him seductively.
I quickly turned in another direction, afraid to open my eyes to another mirror. I looked down at my feet which were now buried deeper into the sand, up to my thighs. I saw my mother, looking immaculate with her baby blue eyes and perfect light brown hair. Her body was flawless for being the 50 year old woman that she was. Both of my siblings, Heather and Michael, were on either side of her, basked in beautiful dark brown hair and perfect face structures holding their deep chocolate eyes. All three of them were beautiful, dressed in dark leather with beads and feathers. They all turned their eyes on me at once. Their cold stares turned into stones, and their beautiful chocolate and blue eyes turned blood red. I spun around, now waist deep in the sand, trying to find another mirror to look into that didn’t hold red eyes and disappointment. As I turned to find anything else, they all started to come out of the mirrors, slowly creeping towards me. I panicked as I was sinking deeper into the sand.
Then I looked up and saw Tyler. His stunning eyes were blue and green as he stared down at me with a broken expression. His dark brown hair was a perfect mess, and his chest was smooth and glistening with sweat. He wore faded jeans and his hands were limp at his sides.
“Tyler, help me, please!” I screamed in my head, but the words wouldn’t come out. I grabbed my throat. I couldn’t breathe; I was buried to my neck, and my arms were heavy as I tried to pull them from the sand. Tyler just stared at me with sad, beautiful blue-green eyes and slowly shook his head.
I jerked my eyes open, sitting up and throwing my hands to my chest, gasping for air. I frantically searched the room, my breathing harsh. Blinking my eyes rapidly, I took in my surroundings. I was in Tyler’s room at Union Square, sitting on his bed alone, naked and half covered in his tan satin sheets. Light was beating through the skylight as I sunk back into the bed, putting my hand on my forehead.
What an awful nightmare.
Too bad it was only sort of a nightmare. Last night at my father’s Christmas party, I had faced my tormentors without shame, and this nightmare was the direct result of my encounter. The only problem was, I took down the people I loved along with them, and the fear of losing Jamie, my mother, Tyler, and even Gage was wrapped around my heart. But I knew I wouldn’t lose Tyler. Last night proved it.
Tyler and I couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. We had never been as intimate or as connected as we were last night. Maybe it was partially because we hadn’t touched each other for damn near a month, but his hands delicately stroking my body everywhere etched my feelings for him deeper into my heart.
I forgave him for telling RJ I was an easy lay, for saying he could “fuck me” whenever he wanted. I knew now that he didn’t mean it, and he was only afraid of RJ taking me away from him. Of course this was ludicrous; I would never let RJ touch me, but Tyler was haunted by his father’s every needing urge to get under Tyler’s skin and was paranoid because of his father’s affair with Margo.
Margo was Tyler’s old nanny who stole his virginity and had a leash on his heart for 10 years. He told me he didn’t love her, but whenever her name was brought up, his eyes
turned cold with malevolence as though he despised her. Or as I saw it, his heart was still broken some from her betrayal with RJ. But Margo and Tyler never had an actual relationship, which made the entire situation one big mess that I had yet to completely grasp.
I took another deep breath and was startled by a large clanking noise coming from downstairs. Then I heard the faucet turn on and more clanking. Tyler must be in the kitchen. I stood up and was surprised by how my legs trembled.
Probably from all the make-up sex.
I smirked at my inner monologue. I picked up Tyler’s t-shirt off the floor and grabbed my black lace panties that he so quickly stripped off of me last night. I probably had only worn them for 10 minutes. I padded my way out of Tyler’s vast bedroom. The large wall was partially pulled to the side as always. I walked through the loft where all of Tyler’s plans and blueprints laid scattered amongst the floor and workspace. I found my way to the black spiral staircase and winced with every step down I took.
Wow was I sore! We were going to have to take it easy tonight or maybe keep the creativity to a minimum.
I looked out into the kitchen and saw Tyler standing at the stove attempting to flip an omelet. He turned his head slightly and saw me out of the corner of his eye. Once he flipped the omelet, he turned to face me; a huge grin was plastered on his face.
“Good morning. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed. Sorry if I woke you,” he said, leaning against the kitchen island holding a spatula.
I walked up to the island and sat down on the stool across from him. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast.” My eyes grew wide as my stomach grumbled at the two large plates filled with mixed fruit, bacon, and now veggie omelets that Tyler placed in the open spot on each plate. I hadn’t eaten a real meal in a long time.