“Why would I not be here? I work here.” I’d clucked my tongue, ignoring the entire scene playing before me with pure nonchalance, like my father had been sitting at his desk and Lily was typing away on her desktop as a part of that bullshit internship she’d wanted to take for half a second to impress me and prove she was worthy of inheriting Newsflash Corp.
I’d walked into his office with purpose—he’d invited me there, so he knew I’d catch him—and of course, I couldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing me hurt, so I poured myself a glass of scotch. I took a seat across the room on a brown leather settee and sipped quietly, watching the view from his window.
Lily had finally had the audacity to tuck her shirt into her skirt, roll the latter down her bare thighs and wipe her lips, running like a headless chicken across the room. She’d reached out, about to throw herself at me.
“Get anywhere near me and your life, reputation, and social circle, as you know them, will cease to exist.” I’d sipped my drink, crossing my legs.
She’d halted in place, collapsing onto the carpeted floor. My father had chuckled, taking his time to zip himself up. I remembered thinking no son should see his father’s penis at that age, unless it was because he needed to give him a bath because he was too sick to do it himself.
“Son,” he’d finally greeted.
I’d smiled, thinking, Not anymore. And maybe not ever.
“Cela aurait d? être toi sous ce bus et non ta soeur” he’d said. It should have been you under that bus, not your sister. But his tone had been kind, apologetic—like he’d been pleading Lily’s case. Bastard.
I’d answered him in French. “You know, Papa, I wish that too, every single day. And I know why you do. Because the minute I get the chance, I’ll ruin you. Completely.”
After Jude and I reached the second floor and destroyed the video, we went back to the terrace shared another drink with our colleagues, blissfully ignoring each other—another thing about her that made my dick happy. She wasn’t clingy or needy or even particularly interested in claiming me or my attention. She did her own thing. Like me, she simply had needs that needed to be met. Call me a saint, but I was happy to take one (or six) for the team.
When it was time to go home, most people shared an Uber, others opted to walk, and many just cabbed it and saved the receipts for expense purposes. I didn’t want Jude to take the subway back home this late, but I didn’t want to offer her a ride, either. It wasn’t worth the aftermath of endless gossip and possible false assumptions on her end. I barely looked my staff in the face, let alone offered them a ride. This led me to resort to asking a rather pathetic favor of Kate, who, for an unknown reason, had decided to get here in a car.
“First things first, thanks for the pussy breath.” She took a pull of her beer and a step away from me.
“Figured you’d appreciate it,” I deadpanned, unblinking. “You need to give Judith a ride.”
“We live in NoHo. She lives in Brooklyn,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if logic had any place in my decision.
I couldn’t care less if she lived on the moon, and the way I unclasped her fingers from her drink, downed it, and discarded it in the trash communicated that perfectly to her. Kate shook her head, poking my chest. “Fine. But you should really dump the lollipop in a wig.”
“The lollipop in a wig has a pedigree and a ten-percent share of my company.”
Besides, Lily was hardly a factor. Even if I were officially single, I still wouldn’t openly court an employee. Not that I wanted to court Judith.
“Funny, I didn’t peg you for a man who’d allow someone to have him by the balls.”
“I wouldn’t allow Lily to suck them, let alone hold them,” I quipped. “My tolerating her is strictly business.”
“Then you’re a very bad businessman, because she has leverage over you.”
Shooing Kate away with a wave, I got back to entertaining my investors and colleagues, but not before ordering her to never mention her favor for me to Jude. The feisty little fou didn’t do weakness or vulnerability, which made breaking her in bed so much more fun.
A few minutes later I watched them make their way to the exit and tossed my head back, knocking down another drink. I realized I hadn’t thought of Camille the entire evening.
A sharp pain sliced through my gut, and I let it bleed agony, because I deserved it.
Because I was a bastard, and everyone knew it.
Camille.
Maman.
Mathias.
Lily.
Jude.
Kate.
And anyone who’d ever worked with me.
The Warrior knew that, our juices still smeared on his gladiator boot.
Even the silent walls of the art room knew, and the security tape we’d stomped on and hidden in the bottom of the security room’s trash.
I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, staring at Célian’s locked office door.
Happiness tasted weird in my mouth—not unpleasant, but surprising all the same. I was so used to worrying, I’d forgotten how it felt to simply be. But this morning had started off with Dad dashing out to his experimental treatment, grabbing the bag with the lunch and snacks I’d made for him (“Forever the worrier, just like your mom,” he’d said as he kissed the crown of my head.) on his way to the cab waiting for him downstairs. I’d asked him a thousand times if he was sure they paid for the transportation, and he’d said yes.
It made no sense, but I let it slide. It had filled my heart with hope, even before I got the text message from Phoenix.
My new straight, male BFF said he couldn’t follow up on the lead he’d mentioned to me because he was having a father-son retreat with his dad. I thought it must be weird to have James Townley as your dad, but that was all Phoenix knew. He left me the details he’d received and asked me to go for it and let him know how it went.
Célian arrived at his office at nine o’clock sharp, wearing a navy two-piece wool suit and the usual get-the-fuck-out-of-my-face expression. I had started to get used to his air. Dare I say, it made my lady parts tingle and fist-bump one another.
I squeaked internally when he arrived. He pushed a hand into his pocket and produced his key, unlocking his door.
“Can I help you?” he asked dryly.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” I clapped my hands together.
The first rundown meeting for the show was usually at ten o’clock. I couldn’t wait an entire hour to tell him about the lead I’d just confirmed on the phone, and Kate and Jessica were still out of the office.
He pushed his door open, his face blank. I followed him in, plopping on the seat in front of him. I opened Kipling, my notebook.
“I can’t fuck you here,” he said, tossing his phone on his desk and taking off his blazer.
My head snapped up and my mouth slacked.
He threw two mint gums into his mouth and took a sip of his coffee, going through his morning routine. “But if you want to get dicked tonight, you can come over after work. Separately, of course.”
I nodded, pretending to consider it. I did want to have sex with Célian again. We were as good in the bedroom as we were bad for each other out of it. But for him to assume that’s the reason I was there was downright ridiculous.
“Tell you what—I’ll tell you why I’m really here, you’ll apologize for being an ass, and we can both move on with our lives. Deal?”
He sat down. “Okay, little grasshopper, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed my notepad his way, speaking fast. “Phoenix texted me early this morning. He has a huge lead but doesn’t have time to chase it. It’s about—”
“Stop hanging out with Phoenix.” He cut into my words.
I clamped my mouth shut, frowning. What? “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused, because you didn’t know what kind of a douchebag he is. But now that you’re fully informed, drop him. He’s bad news.”
“And you’re good news?” I huffed.
“I’m the best fucking news, have been for two consecutive years, and I have the numbers to back it up.”
Okay. Well. I did kind of step into that one.
I shook my head. “You can’t tell me what to do, and you’re wasting time right now talking about Phoenix when we have a huge headline to chase,” I seethed, snapping my fingers in front of his rather amused face.