by Emily Bourne
Ethan’s grin grows as he watches Gene. “You saw that, did you? She has a wealth of followers. She had to let it slip before the board meeting. It’s all about the likes on the posts for that girl.”
Gene slings his hands in his pockets as he walks further into the office. “Funny how she posted it without a phone.”
Ethan’s smile turns upside down. “Come again?”
“Jazz,” Gene draws out. “She doesn’t have her phone.”
Ethan’s hands sit on his hips. “And how do you know Jazz? I didn’t take her for someone to hang out with twelve-year-olds.”
Gene scoffs. “I’m not twelve.” What is with everyone saying that?
Ethan opens a small cabinet, saying, “No matter how young you are, you do have style.” Ethan pulls out two ties and holds them up for Gene. “Which should I go with?”
Gene puffs a laugh, wondering if he was serious. “I’ve seen that blue one in three of your latest posts. Go with the green.”
Ethan returns the blue tie, and asks, “You’re stalking me?”
“It’s not hard to use Collage.”
“I’m looking for another social media marketer,” Ethan says, changing ties. “You interested?”
“Huh?” Isn’t that Jazz’s job?
Ethan moves towards Gene, giving him smouldering eyes and hypnotising him with his earthy cologne. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it? A job?”
“I need to speak with...” he trails off his sentence when Ethan’s fingers dance down his back. “Hey, what are you doing?”
Ethan edges close to Gene’s ear and tickles him with his breath. “You want a job, or looking for a sugar daddy?”
Gene wriggles away from Ethan and shoots his hands out in front of him. “Ok, I really need to speak with Mr Abadi.”
“Mr Abadi is indisposed,” Ethan says, walking towards Gene who continues to back away until he leans against the desk. “C’mon. Come work for me. It’ll be fun.”
Gene gulps as Ethan leans over him. “You know you have full on crazy in your eyes, right?”
Ethan straightens up and tilts his head, taking in Gene’s vulnerable state. “You have three seconds to get out of here and stop wasting my time, or I’ll make you regret it.”
Gene pads his palm across the desk and slips a folder into his jacket, hoping it’s something of use. He moves past Ethan, heart lodged in his throat, and bolts out of the doorway.
“If I see you back here,” Ethan calls, holding his phone out towards Gene and hitting snap, “you won’t be leaving!”
Gene taps the elevator down button frantically and almost trips over his own feet to get inside.
Ethan moves the phone to his ear, and says, “Ignacio, I’m sending you a picture. Track him.”
Gene collapses against the back wall of the elevator as the doors close, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
Accept
JAZZ pulls her ivory, silk robe tighter around her body as she ends her third unanswered phone call to her father. She tosses the cordless landline phone on her desk, wondering where he is if he’s not at home or the office.
“Honey, I’m home,” Ethan’s voice enters her bedroom as he pushes the door open.
Jazz holds her robe close to her body as she whips around to him. “Ethan, what are you doing here?”
“Such a warm greeting, Miss Abadi.” He waggles his phone in the air. “I get the security alerts since your father has taken ill.”
“Where is he?” Jazz asks, taking a wide step forward. She adds in an anxious whisper, “He’s not back in hospital is he?”
Ethan’s eyebrows raise, and he smiles. “So you heard about that?”
Jazz tsks and rolls her eyes. “Where is he, Ethan?”
Ethan bats a hand, walking further into her bedroom. “He’s fine, stop fretting.” He looks around at her belongings, and his eyes land on the bed. “I’ve never been in here before. It’s oddly exactly what I expected. Almost feminine with a consuming addiction to business.”
Jazz’s stomach quivers. “Get out of my bedroom.”
“You want this back?” Ethan asks, pulling out her phone from his trouser pocket.
Jazz groans and snatches it from him. “What about the rest of my stuff? Credit cards?”
“I have your bag at the office,” Ethan says, amused. “I know how much you can’t live without your phone. I’m surprised you’ve gone this long. Look at you, you’re already hooked.”
Jazz taps her phone screen. “You’ve kept it charged?”
“I needed to take matters into my own hands.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I didn’t know when you’d resurface, and you never gave me an answer to my question, so I had to decide for you.”
“What in the world?” Jazz murmurs, opening up Collage and taking in the bubble of hearts filling the page. She hits the newest post to enlarge it. A photo of a diamond ring sitting in a jewellery box. The tagline says, ‘I said yes.’ “What did you do?”
“Go along with it, Jazz,” Ethan says, direct. “We need to move forward. The board meeting is tomorrow and we can’t sit on our hands any more. They are at a standstill because I make good business sense, but Darius is being sentimental toward you. We need to put the board at ease and team up for a smooth transition.”
“I will not sit in the shadows and let you destroy everything my father built.”
Ethan groans, throwing his head backward. “I’m not looking to destroy anything.”
“What about your parents’ company? You’ve totally abandoned it!”
Ethan scowls and turns away from her. “They did that themselves.”
“What are you talking about? You took over, and they retired to travel.”
“Exactly!” he yells, hitting the wall with a fist. He glares at her, nostrils flaring. “They didn’t care about losing the company. They moved on like it was nothing. Treating me like nothing, like they did my entire life. It is a pleasure stripping that company down to its parts and selling them off to the highest bidder.”
“You’re just going to do it again.”
“I thought about it,” Ethan says, cracking his neck from side-to-side. “But I respect your father. He’s someone to admire and aspire to be like. I just don’t need him around for that.”
“What are you going to do to him?” Jazz asks, rushing toward him. “He has a heart condition. He can’t deal with undue stress.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Ethan says, and takes hold of her shoulders. “It’s you I’m after.”
She thrashes against his grip. “Let go of me.”
“You spoilt little heiress,” Ethan says, pushing her backwards onto the bed. He plants his palms, either side of her, on the comforter and looms over her. “You take for granted the life afforded to you. Do you know how hard the rest of us have to work to get what he gave you for free? Because of your name?” Ethan grabs her jaw, making sure she looks directly into his burning eyes. “Be damn sure I will take that name away from you.”
“You’re insane,” Jazz says through his grip. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“What happens to you when they name me successor?” Ethan says, panning his gaze down her chest and around her torso. “Are you doing all that study to stay a gym manager?”
“You heard my father, I’m promoted to senior management, regardless. And, hey, my face is up here.”
Ethan laughs but moves his gaze back up to meet her eyes. “That’s if your father is still around. His health is failing. I’ve already convinced him to step back and let me take over so he can concentrate on maintaining a positive quality of life.”
“What have you done to him?”
“You need me, Jazz. Without me, you’re out of the company.” Ethan runs a hand down her bare thigh. “Isn’t the company the only remnants of a family you have left? Do you really want to lose that?”
The hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A chill runs down
her spine. Her mouth runs dry. Sweat coats her neckline. “Stop touching me.”
“We have a deal?” he whispers, lowering himself to smell the perfume on the nape of her neck. “We can make us official?”
“If I say yes, will you get off me?”
A throaty laugh pours out of Ethan. His hand runs up the inside of her thigh and pinches her skin. “Why don’t we test out married life right now?”
Jazz pushes the base of her palm into his chest in one powerful motion. Ethan splutters a cough and pushes off the bed. Jazz soars a knee into his gut to send him backwards.
Ethan lands onto the carpet with a thud.
Jazz pushes herself up and leans over to watch him get up. “Learn to keep your hands to yourself.”
After two loud coughs, Ethan stands and dusts himself off. “I’ll forgive you this one time for crushing a five-thousand dollar jacket.”
“I know the day-to-day operations of our sites. Remember, I’m a certified personal trainer. Because I care about making the company the best it can be. I do the legwork to be the best I can be.”
“Keep that spunk for the wedding night.” He straightens his tie and winks. “I dig it.”
Jazz retches. “Just get out.”
Run
GENE’S thoughts trip him up. As he runs, he thinks about creepy Ethan, Jazz’s fake marriage, finding Adrian, and staying away from his father. The mess in his head keeps his eyes off the ground, and he trips over cracked concrete.
The late hours of the night darken his surroundings. His pace slows. Where the heck is Adrian’s shelter? Gene spins in a circle. All the alleys look the same. Had he run too far?
“Police! Freeze!” an officer yells from the top of the alley.
Gene’s heart leaps in his throat.
“Stop!” the officer calls.
Gene’s knees knock. He already walked into HQ. He can’t be followed for that. It must be Ethan’s phone call. He knew not to trust Ethan. He runs, somehow knowing not to trust this cop.
With his backpack swishing on his back, Gene races through the streets of the Nightclub District. He picks up speed and the officer’s shouts muffle.
He stops to take in his surroundings, trying to retrace his steps from the other night. The police officer gains on him, so he panics and dives behind a dumpster.
He frantically taps at his phone, but he has no idea what address to type in the map function.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” a voice yells from above.
“Huh?” Gene spins in place, looking up.
The dark sunglasses, blonde hair, and bomber jacket look down on him from atop a fire escape ladder.
“Oh, hey.” Gene says, puffing and waving.
“What are you doing back here?” she yells over the railing. “Didn’t you go into the shelter?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to get back there.”
She shoots an arm straight out in front of her. “Down that alley, hang a right, and then second alley on the left. Go!”
“Thanks,” Gene yells, but quickly slaps his hand over his mouth when the police officer’s voice sounds from a nearby alley.
The girl above retreats into her smelly hideout.
Gene’s heart booms in his chest. He holds the straps of his backpack and runs to safety.
Ambush
ADRIAN trudges across the cracked cement, in the early hours of the morning, to the nearby St Andrew’s church. The prospect of the shelter closing stabs at his gut. His neck is stiff from stress and his back gnarled in knots. He used all his money to float the shelter, but now there was nothing left. St Andrew’s is his last hope. The people need a place to go.
With trepidation, he approaches a sister who recognises him, saying, “Adrian, hello. How are you?”
Adrian stops on the steps of the church, blowing out a breath and rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll level with you, not well. Any chance you can take anyone else in?”
The nun looks at him with surprise. “You’re asking for yourself?”
He shakes his head. “No. We’re falling apart over there and I don’t think we can keep the centre running. The women and children? Just a few. If you could arrange something?”
The nun’s face softens with a frown. “I’m sorry, dear. We aren’t taking in any new people. The city is making it hard for all.”
Adrian nods, moving down the steps. “I understand. Thanks, anyway.” He pauses on a step and asks, “Did you see a woman and a child? Dark skin. Mother wearing a red scarf over her hair.”
The nun shakes her head. “No, sorry.”
“That’s ok. Thanks.”
“Adrian,” the nun calls out.
“Yeah?”
“We might be able to take a few.”
An ounce of relief fills his lungs.
“A small few.”
“Thank you, sister. That’s a massive help.”
The nun smiles, nods, and returns inside the church.
Adrian rubs the pain from his chest and sets off back to the shelter. He’d find younger women and tell them to go to the church before the nun changes her mind. He’ll figure out something with the boys. He’s banking on them being less vulnerable on the streets.
“Adrian!” a frantic voice calls out.
Adrian turns around in search of the voice and finds Gene racing towards him, arms flailing and face reddened.
“Whoah, whoah,” Adrian says, flashing his palms like stop signs. Gene skids to a halt in front of him, and he takes his arms and stands him upright. “Try to calm down. What are you doing back here? Where were you running from?”
Gene breathes in and out with fear consuming his actions. He rushes a few jumbled words until Adrian stops him.
“Hey, hey, catch your breath first. You’re all right.” Adrian wraps an arm around the kid. “I’m so glad you’re back. I was sick with guilt that we’d sent you back to some horrible place and you were––”
“––Bigger fish!” Gene interrupts, throwing his arms up and stepping out of Adrian’s embrace. “We need to help Jazz.”
Adrian takes a step back, eyeing him sceptically. “What do you mean?”
“There’s some sick, weird arranged marriage thing going on.”
Adrian opens his mouth, about to ask Gene to explain, but then he remembers what Jazz shared with him. “Ethan.”
“Yes,” Gene cheers, patting Adrian’s arm. “That creep. We need to get Jazz away from him.”
Adrian folds his arms. “What do you know about him?”
“I met him last night.” Gene shivers. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to men and women.”
“He came on to you?”
“It was so gross.” Gene grimaces. “He’s super hot, but man, his insides are ugly.”
“Wait,” Adrian says, shaking his head, trying to catch up. “You met this guy? When? How?”
“Look, we don’t have time,” Gene says, shoving him into the shelter. “He’s set up this whole engagement thing with Jazz and he’s very intimidating. Two more minutes with him and I would have agreed to marry him.”
Gene hurries Adrian into the common room and flicks on the TV. He scans the channel until he hits the news station. “See!” he says, pointing at the ticker scrolling at the bottom of the screen. “Ultimate ME board meeting today to decide new CEO. That’s where Jazz is going.”
Adrian was having a moment of déjà vu. “Oh,” he whispers, almost in pain. He sits and points to the screen. “She had this moment of panic one day when we were in here. The TV was on, and they were talking about a company. It must have been this one. This is the one her father started?”
“Yes,” Gene cheers, smacking his hands together. “You’re on the ball now.”
“Gene?” Eddy asks in surprise, walking into the room. “You’re back? What happened?”
Gene backs away, waving his hands. “No time to catch up, Ed. Adrian and I need to go.”
“Go?” Eddy asks. “Go where?”
> “Jazz is in trouble,” Adrian whispers, feeling like he has no energy as the guilt grounds him to the earth.
“Say it with a little more passion,” Gene says, and then fills Eddy in on what happened when he met Ethan. He then pulls out his phone to the Collage post of the engagement ring. “She didn’t do this. He did.”
“Adrian,” Eddy says, rising panic shaking his voice.
“I also got this,” Gene says, pulling out a folder from his backpack. “I don’t know what it means, but Ethan had it on his desk, and I’m hoping it can help Jazz.”
Adrian waves off the folder when Gene holds it out to him.
Eddy takes the folder and asks, “Why were you at Ultimate ME?”
“I saw the Collage post and wanted to tell Mr Abadi it was fake,” Gene says. “I made Jazz and Adrian fight when I arrived and recognised Jazz. I wanted to help make things better.” He looks to Adrian. “Sorry.”
Adrian sighs. “Genie, you’re not the reason Jazz left. You’re not to blame.”
Eddy’s eyes widen as he scans the first page of the document. “It’s a list of phone numbers of the top political figures and heads of corporations in Maiden City.” He flips to another page. “There’s more numbers and dollar amounts. Like minimum bribery amounts?”
“Bribery?” Adrian questions. “So the government is just as slimy as corporations?” I can’t take that grant money.
Eddy lowers the folder. “I knew this city was messed up, but I didn’t know the corruption was this organised.”
“Is Jazz’s father on that list?” Gene asks. “Jazz is so organised. Does she get it from him?”
“Jazz wouldn’t be on that list,” Adrian counters. He swallows and folds his arms across his mid-section. “Is she?”
“She’s not,” Eddy replies quickly.
“So Ethan is paying people off to get the company for himself?” Gene asks.
“Looks that way,” Eddy says. He turns another page, and something falls out of the back of the folder. “What was that?”
Adrian scoops it up. It’s a photo of Jazz. The angle and blur of the image show someone snapped the photo in a hurry.