by Tara Lain
Red tried to keep his voice from shaking. “If I go, Gran’s going to know what happened. Even to save her house, she’ll never let me stay with you if she thinks you’re coercing me.” A soft noise sounded behind him and he almost turned his head, but Brock grabbed his chin.
“She’ll believe whatever you tell her because she wants to. Plus, I’ll show you coercion can be fun.” He released Red, glanced at his watch, and sighed loudly. “But I suppose it is almost three. I have Antonio meeting us at the office at seven thirty and my chairman of the board wants to see what all the shouting is about.” His eyes glittered. “I want to take my leisure with your delicious body our first night out and you’ve wasted a fuckload of my time.” He reached for his fly. “So, give me a quick blowjob and we’ll call it even until tomorrow night.”
“Red? Are you out there, dear?” Gran’s voice sounded shaky. “I need you.”
“Well fuck!” Brock pushed Red backward. “Maybe all you fucking Ridleys are too much trouble.” Brock turned and stalked toward the stairs.
Red collapsed against the wall, shaking like a rabbit that had just escaped the wolf’s jaws. Gran! He turned and ran to the bedroom where the door stood ajar. “Gran, did you call me? Are you okay?”
She was lying on the bed, holding her chest.
No! “Is it your heart?”
She nodded. “I think so. I just feel so strange and weak.”
“I’m calling the doctor.” Red ran into the living room where Elbey already stood rubbing their eyes.
“What’s happening?”
“I need a doctor. It’s Gran’s heart.”
“Oh my God!” They ran to the bedroom, grabbed their phone from the nightstand, and dialed. “Emergency. Someone here may be having a heart attack.”
Red clutched his own chest and ran back to Gran. She was breathing heavily. Red sat on the edge of the bed. “Where’s your purse, Gran? We’ll need your insurance cards.”
“Closet. I’ll be okay.”
She sounded like crap. Red grabbed her purse, checked for the cards, then dropped his head next to her. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything.
* * *
Three hours later, they’d taken an ambulance ride and Gran lay on a hospital bed in a curtained cubicle in the busiest damned hospital Red had ever imagined, even from watching TV. She was awake, talking, and smiling even.
After seeing about two hundred med techs and having fluids and oxygen pumped into her, the emergency room doc stood beside the bed.
Red asked, “Is it her heart valve?”
“Yes. Without more tests, I can’t say for sure, but it appears the valve is problematic enough to cause symptoms but doesn’t need surgery yet.”
Red swallowed. “Yet?”
The doctor, who was young and studious-looking, smiled kindly. “Maybe never. I’d suggest that a trip to New York City with everything that involves from food and water you’re not used to, to more stress than usual, even if it’s the fun kind, has overtaxed the valve.” He looked at Red. “Getting her home to her normal routine, where things are less stressful, should reduce or even eliminate the symptoms.” He patted Gran’s hand.
She smiled. “I’m just about to go home anyway. Tomorrow, well, I guess I mean today, my grandson is signing an exciting contract, and then I’ll be heading back to Ever After.”
The doctor chuckled. “There really is such a place?”
“Oh yes.” Gran smiled. “And it’s just as wonderful as it sounds.”
Red stared at her face. Wonderful, but not for me.
The doctor said, “I think it’s best if someone escorts Mrs. Ridley home to Ever After.”
Red nodded. “I’ll take her.”
Gran clutched his hand. “But you have to go to work for Mr. Giuliana.”
“Priorities, Gran.” He touched her damp forehead. “I’m sure they’ll understand if I’m a day late.”
“Oh, dear.”
Elbey had been standing outside the curtain and pushed their head through. “I’ll stay with her, Red. Don’t worry. I’ll take her back to the apartment and see that she rests.” They looked at Red with wide, deep eyes. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
Red couldn’t even nod. Nothing would ever be all right again, but it didn’t matter as long as Gran lived and thrived.
Elbey said, “You better get over there. Seven thirty, remember.”
Red didn’t even ask how Elbey knew that. He kissed Gran on the cheek. “I’ll go sign the contract and then meet you at the apartment. Meanwhile, you rest, okay?”
She nodded. “I’m so excited.”
He forced a smile. “Nope. You’re not allowed to get excited until you’re home.” He gazed at her. “And we get everything else taken care of.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she nodded.
Red looked up at Elbey. “Thanks.”
“Nothing to thank me for—yet.”
Red cocked his head, but Elbey bent over Gran. Red walked to the desk to sign papers and then rushed out of the hospital and grabbed a cab.
The cabby clearly didn’t have Mr. Merlinson’s mystical control of traffic, but they still pulled up at twenty-seven after seven.
He strode into the building dressed in baggy, stained sweats, with a slight shadow on his jaw from not shaving and dark circles under his eyes. BrandFace would doubt they were getting their money’s worth, but Brock would get his. He’d sure as fuck be certain of that.
The nausea rose in Red’s throat, but he kept walking, signed in, even though he got wide eyes from the desk clerk, and rode the elevator up.
Thinking suspended. I can do this. People had been trading who they were for what they wanted from the beginning of time. I’m not that damned special. He closed his eyes for a second. Maybe if I’d never kissed Mark, never tasted that love, I could pretend to be happy with Brock. His sigh came from the center of his soul.
On the BrandFace floor, he approached the cute girl at the desk. “Hi. I’m Red Ridley. Mr. Wolfe’s expecting me.”
“Yes, Mr. Ridley. They’re in the conference room. I’ll let them know.” She pushed some buttons, said, “Red Ridley is here,” and then looked up at him. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “I spent a lot of the night at the hospital with my grandmother. Sorry about the way I look, but I came directly from there.”
“Oh dear. Is she all right?”
“She will be as soon as I can get her home.”
“I’ll ask someone to bring you coffee and something to eat.”
“Thanks, but I won’t be here long.” He made a scrawling motion with his hand as if he were signing something.
She grinned. “Congratulations. I knew they’d want you the moment I saw you the first time.”
“Thanks.” Funny how the world would see this as a good thing and him as a lucky guy.
The wide doors opened and Izzy stuck his head out. “Come with me.”
It seemed appropriate that he should be led in to the meeting by a total asshole.
When Red got closer, Izzy waved a hand at him. “My God, did you think this would be appropriate attire for BrandFace?”
“I spent the night in the hospital, so I didn’t exactly have time to primp.”
“Oh, well.” He turned and pranced his way into the office, but they didn’t go as far as the last time. Glass walls lined the hall, but shades had been pulled over them so Red couldn’t see who was inside.
He didn’t have to. For him, it was the end of the line.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Like on the last visit, Izzy tapped on the door, pushed it open, and said, “I have Red Ridley for you.” Then he stepped back, let Red enter, and closed the door behind Red.
Sitting at the massive conference table, staring at him as if he were a prize bull, sat Brock, Coyoten, and an older white-haired dude, all dressed immaculately.
Red frowned and said, “I apologize for my appearance. My grandmother was in the hospital
all night.” His gaze met Brock’s. “Well, most of it. I need to get back to her. If you have the contract, I’ll sign it, but I’ll have to take my grandmother home before I can start work.”
Coyoten snarled, “How long will that take? Hell, you’re already holding us up with your ridiculous demands.”
“A day.” Red said nothing else.
Brock turned on the charm. “Of course, Red. We know and value family at BrandFace. You can take her home in the helicopter.” It was as if that beast that had stood in the hall the previous night didn’t even exist.
“Thank you, but that might be too stressful. The train would be better.”
“I understand.” He pushed a document forward on the polished wood table along with a pen. Brock’s gaze, locked on Red, never wavered. Not a particle of embarrassment or conscience.
Everything in Red’s body cooled. It wasn’t like an icy bath, but more as if he were dying from the toes up. Wonder if that’s how it feels?
He strode across the room, picked up the pen, and signed.
“You didn’t read it.” Brock’s lips turned up as he pulled the signed document in front of him.
Red just stared at him through cool, dead eyes.
The white-haired man, a real grandfather type, smiled. “Welcome to BrandFace, Red. Brock and Antonio assure us that you’ll be an amazing asset. We haven’t exactly met. I’m Sherman Wilson, chairman of the board.”
“How do you do? I’m afraid I have to get back to my grandmother.”
“Of course, well—”
A beep came from a conference phone fixture on the table. “Mr. Wolfe.”
“Yes?” Brock scowled.
“Mr. Ridley has a visitor. He said it’s urgent and I know about his grandmother so I sent him back and—”
Red’s heart slammed so hard against his ribs he almost fell. “Gran!”
The glass door burst open and there, like some kind of fairy-tale prince lacking only the sword in his hand, stood Mark Woods.
Red’s mouth opened, closed, tears splashed out of his eyes. He covered the few steps between them in one leap and threw his arms around Mark’s neck. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here.”
Mark’s strong arm came around Red. “I had to get to you right away. The reason they’re foreclosing on your grandmother’s mortgage is because Brock Wolfe bribed Hansen Heffernan.”
Red stared at Brock. “You—”
Brock held up a hand. “I didn’t do anything illegal. Money talks. Lots of money sings. There are things the community needs.” Brock shrugged.
Coyoten gave a nasty laugh.
Mark looked down into Red’s face. For the first time, Red felt a little warm, except for the ice around his heart. Maybe he could have asked Mark to wait for him, but not after he’d be Wolfe’s rent boy for three years. He buried his head against Mark’s chest.
Mark whispered, “But you don’t have to worry anymore.”
Red looked up. “Why?”
Mark smiled softly. “I bought the house.”
“What?” Red couldn’t get his mouth to close.
“I was saving to buy a place. So, I bought yours. I think it will hold the three of us, don’t you?”
“Oh my God.” How could this be happening? He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Please come home, Red. This is no place for you. I know that for sure. I don’t even have to live with you, but I figure with your grandmother’s heart, we need two people to help care for her and …”
Red began to sob. A buzz sounded from his phone.
Brock’s voice cut through the air like a bad smell. “One problem there, Lancelot. Red just signed a three-year contract with BrandFace. I plan to keep him so busy, you’ll be taking care of his grandmother by yourself.”
Red nodded. Yeah, Wolfe planned to keep Red busy all right. “I did.”
Mark said, “But—”
Coyoten waved a hand. “Don’t claim lack of consideration time. You altered every line of that contract and we agreed to it, idiots that we are, so you were more than fully informed.”
Red stared at Brock and then heard a chuckle coming from the end of the table. The “grandfatherly” chairman of the board said, “Well, Brock, you seem to have thought of everything.”
The phone buzzed again. Red yanked it from his pocket. Maybe it was something about Gran? A text from some unknown mailbox said, Sorry it took so long to know who my friends are. A video showed a still of Red’s face, eyes wide in horror. He clicked.
The deep, purring, sickening voice resonated through the big room. “I want to take my leisure with your delicious body our first night out and you’ve wasted a fuckload of my time. So, give me a quick blowjob and we’ll call it even until tomorrow night.”
Red actually gasped!
Brock looked up like someone had slapped his face. “What the fuck?”
Red couldn’t take his eyes from the screen. There were three videos, one after another, and as he skimmed through, he watched the whole disgusting scene from the previous night unfold. With a flicker of hope, he looked up at Mark.
“This happened when?” Muscles jumped in Mark’s jaw and Red could feel his hands bunching into fists.
“Last night. Brock showed up at the apartment where I’m staying and told me I had to have sex with him or he’d ruin Gran in ways I couldn’t even imagine.”
Mark looked up at Brock and took a step forward.
Red barely believed his eyes, but Brock flinched back. Even the Wolfeman was scared of Mark Woods.
Mark’s voice was icy. “I’m not a lawyer, but I sure as fuck know sexual harassment when I see it. I expect that will make your contract null and void.” He took another step. “And if not, I’m sure we can get enough media coverage to make this place and you as popular as Harvey Weinstein.”
Granddaddy White Hair said, “What the hell is going on, Brock? Did you really threaten this young man if he didn’t have sex with you?”
Red walked a few steps toward the man. “Right. Brock thought of everything. I’ll have my lawyer call you.”
Brock said, “What do you want?” His eyes were chips of black ice.
“To tear up that contract and never hear your name again in my life.” Red looked at Wilson, the chairman. “I’ll keep quiet about this if I feel assured that he’s never going to try to threaten or victimize another potential model. He didn’t just say he’d take away the contract if I didn’t put out, he literally threatened the people I love. I’m sure I can find enough of his victims to put together a nice juicy lawsuit.”
Strong arms gripped his shoulders, and Red turned and looked into the face he thought he might never touch or kiss again. Mark said, “Let’s go home.”
They turned and walked out of the conference room.
With Mark’s hand guiding him because his knees were still shaking, they exited the huge building and walked toward the street in the sunshine. Red started to smile.
Parked at the curb was a sleek black town car, and beside the back door stood Mr. Merlinson.
Mark asked, “Is he waiting for you?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Mr. Merlinson smiled huge. “Good afternoon, young sir. Would I be correct in assuming that this is your young man?” He extended his hand to Mark, who took it.
Red grinned. “Sure is. Mr. M., say hello to Mark Woods.”
“Delighted, Mr. Woods. We’re very happy to see you.”
“Mark came to rescue me.” He felt as if he were melting into joy.
Mr. M. nodded. “And as they say in the old movie, I’m sure you rescued him right back.”
Mark smiled. “Absolutely true, sir.”
Mr. M. held the door as they crawled in, and by the time they got to Elbey’s, they’d recounted most of what had occurred.
In front of the apartment, Mr. M. turned. “I want to say, Red, that while I knew Wolfe was an unscrupulous businessman, he was quite cagey in hiding his truly evil side from
me. The night he presented himself at your apartment, I didn’t drive him. I would have tried to stop him, and of course, I’ll never work for him or any of his ilk again. I’m genuinely sorry this happened and apologize that it took a young man who wouldn’t trade his integrity for what Wolfe was selling to remind me of my values.”
Red frowned. “The jury’s out on the integrity thing, Mr. M. I signed that contract.”
“To save your grandmother. And I feel quite sure when the proverbial push came to shove, you’d have found a way to resist him.”
Red glanced at Mark. “I hope you’re right.” He sighed. “But I guess we’ll never know for sure.”
“I know for sure.” Mark’s deep voice trembled up Red’s spine. “You’ve spent your whole life being an outside because of how you look, and yet when someone offered you a boatload of money for those looks, you chose a life that would make you happy instead of one the world would admire. Hardly anybody I know has the courage to do that. You’re amazing.”
Mr. M. nodded. “I agree. I’ve watched Red consider and reject all the trappings of wealth and fame. Wolfe knew that too. The free champagne and beautiful clothes never turned Red’s head, so Wolfe had to attack his grandmother. And speaking of grandmothers, you’d best get upstairs to her.”
“What are you going to do, Mr. M.?”
“There are lots of jobs for good drivers in this town.”
“Mystical drivers, you mean.” Red laughed. He’d explain that to Mark later.
Mr. M. stared out the window for a moment. “But I’m considering the value of a quieter life. A slower pace.”
“I know a good town for that, Mr. M.” Red grinned.