by Vi Keeland
I smile at Summer, determined not to sink to her level. Grabbing a pencil and pad, I head to Sleezeball's office. Normally, I try to avoid alone time with him, but today I’m thinking even his company is better than the princess’s.
Sleezeball comes around from behind his desk, and inserts himself in the little space between us and the front of his desk. As if sitting with my eyes almost perfectly aligned at eye level with his crotch isn’t bad enough, he reaches down with his right hand and adjusts himself before he speaks. Gross, just totally gross. “So ladies, we need to do a little juggling of assignments. Summer, I’m going to need you to take over covering the publishing merger story.”
“But…,” I attempt to protest. I’ve been working on that story for three weeks and it’s going to be a big story. One that could help me land the job in the end.
Summer smiles. I’m sure she doesn’t even know anything about the merger, or what’s going to make it a big story. But she sees how upset I am and that’s enough to satisfy her. “No problem, James. I’d be happy to fix up whatever Olivia has started.”
Fix up? She’s got to be kidding me. I see the chance of finally landing my dream job dramatically decreasing and I can’t let it slip away without a fight. “James, I’m almost done with the story…I really only need another few days and I can piece it all together. I wouldn’t want Summer to have to go through all the work to get caught up on all the research I’ve done.”
Waving away my plea without even considering it, Sleezeball walks back around to the other side of the desk. “Summer should be able to handle it just fine. In fact, Summer, why don’t you go grab Olivia’s file on the story and start going over it. Give Olivia and I a few minutes.”
Gloating, Summer smiles at Sleezeball and smirks at me. I can see in her step as she leaves the office she thinks victory is within her reach. And I’m afraid she might be right. There’s no way I’m giving in this easy. “James, I...”
Interrupting me, as if I wasn’t in the middle of speaking, Sleezeball talks right over my short lived attempt to protest. “Olivia, you’re being given a special assignment. One that can make or break your career.”
Now he has my full attention.
“We have it from a very reliable source that Senator Preston Knight has an illegitimate child.”
Without question, that is a life-size story. One that drives newspaper sales to daily highs and is read, and noticed, by people around the globe. I’m excited, but surprised, that they would let me, a nobody, take a shot at such a story.
“Wow. I can’t believe it. The implications are huge.” Preston Knight is running for his fourth term. His re-election campaign is squarely centered around his Christian values. But even bigger than the effect such a news story could have on the man himself, if he loses his seat in the Senate the majority will shift, allowing the other party to regain control.
“It sure is. And we’re trusting this to you. Do you know how big this is?” Sleezeball leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, a failed attempt at looking dignified.
“Absolutely...” My mind races. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful in any way…but I’m surprised you chose me.”
“I didn’t. The editor-in-chief did.” Sleezeball leans in and motions for me to move closer, as if he’s going to tell me a big secret. Even though the door is closed and we’re the only two in the room. Whispering for added drama, he continues, “And I’ve been authorized to tell you, Olivia, if you land this story, the job is yours.” He winks.
It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, and yet I sit here feeling jittery for some reason. “That’s amazing. I can’t wait to start.”
“Good, good, I’m sure you’ll do great, Olivia.” Reaching into his drawer, he pulls out a file in an inconspicuous manila folder. “One more thing.”
I don’t know why, but my heart drops. Something just told me there was more. More that meant something big.
Opening the folder, I’m confused as he begins to turn pages and pages of blown up photographs. All of them, the same subject…Vinny. In the gym, on his motorcycle, coming out of the vitamin store…he turns and turns until he comes to one that makes my heart stop…me and Vinny kissing in front of the building. Not more than two hours ago.
“I don’t understand.”
“Our source believes your new friend, Vince Stone, is Senator Knight’s illegitimate son.”
The familiar picture in Vinny’s file, it wasn’t an actor, it was the Senator. Blood thunders so rapidly through my veins it feels like an out of control train that will eventually jump its track and meet its final destiny with a brick wall. My breathing becomes labored and for a second, I think I might throw up all over the pictures. Clutching at my chest, I feel the color drain from my face so fast that even Sleezeball picks up on it and gets nervous.
“Olivia. Are you okay?”
No response.
“Olivia.” Standing. Louder now.
No response.
“Olivia!” Yelling. He comes around and touches my shoulder, startling me and I almost jump out of my chair.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes….um….yes, I’m fine,” I lie.
“Are you going to be able to handle this assignment?”
My response is delayed, but I finally give him the answer he’s looking for. “Yes.”
“Good, why don’t you take some time to go through the research. Let me know if you have any questions.”
I stand, a bit unsteady on my feet, but I make my way toward the door without falling.
“Olivia?”
I look back, not really seeing anything at all when I turn. Though at least the response appears normal.
“Get the story. Get the job. It’s that easy.”
Yeah, sure. Easy.
Chapter 22
Vince
I blow through three sparring partners in less than an hour. I’m so pumped full of adrenaline, I feel like I could take Nico at this point. Jumping up and down on the balls of my feet wearing nothing but my headgear and a pair of shorts, I impatiently wait for Nico to fasten the next victim’s headgear. I’ve seen the guy around the gym. He sucks. Normally I could take him with a few jabs and two heavy leg strikes, but I’m not feeling normal today. I’m wired. Without any extracurricular help to get this way.
“Come on, it’s taking you longer to get his headgear on than he’s going to last in the ring.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, kid.” Nico responds, but I can tell he’s enjoying himself, taking pride in how good I look today. He doesn’t really mind my arrogance. Mostly because he’s full of himself, too.
My fourth sparring partner finally gets in the ring and shit was I wrong. I must have overthought it. Underestimated myself. It only took me one strike and one jab and he’s splayed out on the floor. So much for light sparring.
Nico laughs and shakes his head. Extending his arm to the poor guy on the floor. “What am I going to do with you today?”
Still bouncing, I respond hastily. “Get me a real partner.”
Nico looks around, there are a few guys working out, none of them even close to a contender. Raising both arms from at his sides, he responds in question, “Who?”
“You.”
He laughs. “I don’t think so, kid.” He begins to climb out of the sparring ring.
“You afraid?” I yell loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. It’s gonna take some assistance to get him to do this.
Nico turns and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t ask for things you can’t handle, Vinny.”
“Not sure who’s the one that can’t handle it anymore, old man.”
The guys that were working out stop what they’re doing and respond with a series of oohs and aahs, a couple of “you gonna take that Nico” thrown in for good measure.
“Give me your headgear.” Nico turns to my last sparring partner then back to me. “Don’t say I didn’t try to walk away.”
Smil
ing, I bounce around the full perimeter of the ring, putting on a big show for the muscle heads that have stopped to watch us.
Headgear on, Nico lifts his hands and faces me, a smirk on his face, “You’ve had this coming for a long time. This is gonna be fun.” And then he strikes. Unexpected, hard and fast…he connects with my ribs. I stumble back two steps but somehow manage to stay on my feet.
So I respond, winding up for a roundhouse kick that lands on Nico’s shoulder. The sheer momentum from the windup catches Nico off guard and he stumbles, forced back three steps, his back hitting the rope as he struggles to stay on his feet. I expect him to lunge at me, but then he stops cold. I trace his line of sight and find Elle, one hand on the bottom of her belly, her face showing signs of distress.
“Nico…I think it’s time.”
“Shit.” Hopping over the ropes in one swoop, he tosses me the keys as he lands next to Elle. “Pull the car around, Vinny.”
Once inside, Elle doesn’t want Nico to let go of her, so I drive them to the hospital, both of them in the backseat, chauffeur style. It’s a quick ride, even quicker when you drive twenty-five over the speed limit. We arrive at St. Joseph’s and Nico and I both run around to help Elle out of the car. None of us even notice the engine’s still running and three doors are left open. Nico speaks to the admitting desk and they tell us to take a seat, it’s going to be a few minutes before the doctor can take Elle in.
Contractions subsiding, Elle sits in a chair and looks up between me and Nico, flanked on either side of her, standing. Looming. A big goofy smile on her face quickly turns to laughter. “Do you two realize what you two look like?”
I look between myself and Nico for the first time, realizing we’re both wearing nothing but shorts. No shoes, no shirts. Just two jacked fighters, a sixteen pack between us, hovering over a very pregnant Elle. Looking around the room, I find all eyes on us. Nico and I join Elle in her fit of laughter.
***
Three hours later, we’re all back at the gym. Braxton Hicks contractions or some shit like that, otherwise known as false labor. I grab my bag and say goodnight to Elle with a kiss on the cheek. “I know you threw that labor. Saw us fighting and didn’t want your washed up, has-been of a husband getting embarrassed in his own gym.” I smile and Elle smiles back, shaking her head.
Chapter 23
Liv
Sitting on my bed, hundreds of documents and photos strewn all over the place, I feel sick…like a big hand has reached into my chest and squeezed my heart so tight it struggles to pump blood through my veins. There are pictures, birth records, interviews, incomplete genealogy studies, and hours and hours of countless research on both Senator Knight and Vinny.
I’ve learned so much about the last ten years of Vinny’s life, so many pieces to the puzzle that all seem to fit together, making him the man he is today. But they’re things that he should have been the one to tell me. Things I should have learned a little at a time, as we got to know each other again.
Staring down at the photo I haven’t been able to take my eyes off for the last four hours, I find Vinny’s captivating baby blues looking back at me. Staring. Only the photo is of Senator Knight. There’s no denying the resemblance. The broad shoulders, the squareness of the jaw, even the way they both hold themselves while they stand. Confident, firm, with authority that instantly makes you feel like they’re in charge.
Testimony dates back almost twenty-five years, before Senator Knight was even elected. In his mid-twenties, Preston Knight was a rising star at one of Chicago’s most prestigious law firms. Married to his college sweetheart, he was the living, breathing picture of perfection. He seemed to have it all when he became the youngest partner at Kleinman and Dell at only twenty-eight.
Sources place the first meeting between Vinny’s mother and Senator Knight at a celebration held at a place called Wally’s Den, the night he was voted in as partner. A gentlemen’s club, known back then as the place for influential and powerful men to let loose in private, Vinny’s mom had been a cocktail waitress. One that apparently caught the attention of Senator Knight, and he pursued her relentlessly for a month before finally getting what he wanted.
Stories confirm Senator Knight was extremely unhappy when he learned of Vinny’s mother’s pregnancy only two months after they began their affair. Senator Knight’s wife was already expecting their first child, a son born only a few weeks before Vinny.
The trail of their affair goes cold after an incident that left Vinny’s mother in the hospital. Apparently she was attacked one night coming out of Wally’s Den. She was beaten so badly the doctors were amazed that she didn’t lose the baby. Especially since the beating seemed to focus on her stomach. The police never caught the attacker, as Vinny’s mother was vague on the description. Although internal investigation reports seemed to suggest that Vinny’s mother was hiding something, possibly even knew and was protecting her attacker’s identity.
My phone rings, startling me from the daze I’ve been in since I started sifting through the mounds of documents.
“Hey.” Hearing Vinny’s voice melts my heart.
“Hi.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I was just doing some work.”
“Anything interesting?”
“No.” My response is so quick, I wonder if my guilt travels through the phone, smacking Vinny in the face on the other end of the line.
“Well I had an interesting day.”
I freeze, convinced he knows what I’m doing, maybe even able to see the pictures that lay on the bed in front of me. I know it makes no sense, but that doesn’t stop my paranoia from kicking in.
“Liv?” There’s concern in his voice from my lack of response.
“Sorry. I dropped the phone for a second,” I lie.
“Oh.”
“What made your afternoon interesting?” Hesitantly, I ask the question and hold my breath waiting for his response.
“Elle went into labor.”
“Oh.” Exhale. “Wow.”
Paranoia and guilt mix for a potent cocktail, leaving me feeling hungover, even though I’ve just been given a reprieve.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m not sure who was more nervous. Me, Nico, or Elle.”
“Did she have the baby yet?”
“No. Turned out to be false labor.”
“Oh. They must be disappointed.”
“Think Nico looked more relieved than anything.” I can tell he’s smiling, enjoying his trainer showing fear. “Big guy was looking pretty scared.”
“Maybe he’s nervous about seeing his wife in labor. Watching her in pain.”
“More like he’s afraid of what comes after the labor.”
“You like the thought of him being afraid of a little baby, don’t you?”
“Yep.”
I can’t help but laugh at his honesty. We talk for another half an hour. He tells me stories about Elle and her little brother Max. Clearly, he adores them, the excitement about the baby coming through in his voice.
After I hang up, I lie back in my bed, my head spinning from the day. The feeling of being on a runaway train with no means to lessen the impact of the crash that would inevitably come overwhelms me. The job I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl is dangling from a fragile thread right in front of my face. So easy to reach out and grab it. But if I don’t, if I let the chance of a lifetime slip through my fingers, there’d be no bracing for the impact of the fall. The job would be Summer’s.
My phone ringing again, not ten minutes after I hung up with Vinny, makes me debate ignoring the call. But I don’t, I answer it, although without the enthusiasm I usually greet people with.
“I’m still thinking about you. The look on your face after I kissed you outside your building today. I’m lying in bed with a hard-on remembering the way your body reacts to me.” Vinny’s voice trails off. “Even in public. It’s uncontrollable and so god damn sexy, I just needed to hear the sound of your
voice again.”
Swallowing hard, my voice is throaty when I respond, “It was a good kiss…”
“Tomorrow night. I’m going to do things to you that’ll make you scream my name over and over.”
Ummm…how do you respond to that? Other than having your nipples harden and feeling the flesh between your legs swell in anticipation. “Okay,” I say softly.
“Night, Liv.”
“Night, Vinny.”
I hang up, tossing my phone into a pile of papers, and eventually drift off to sleep with visions of Vinny making me scream, rather than thoughts of the story I had to come to terms with writing.
Chapter 24
Liv
I woke today with a new outlook on life. I’ve decided the story just isn’t true. God just couldn’t be that cruel to bring this man back to me and then make me crush his only honorable family memory. One that he utterly cherishes. Lots of people have pale blue eyes and rugged square jaws. Hell, there’s a whole community of beautiful people out there that could pass for a relative of Senator Knight or Vinny.
Arriving at my office bright and early, I’m ready to dive in head first. I just need to clarify a few things with Sleezeball before I get on my merry way.
“Good morning, James. Do you have a minute for me?”
“I’ve got whatever you need. Come on in.” His dirty smile tells me his choice of words is not coincidence. I feel the need to shower at his gross double entendre. Yet I smile all the same as I take my place in the seat he motions for me to sit in.
“I spent a lot of time thinking about the Senator Knight story last night.”
“I figured you would.” Sleezeball leans back in his chair, touching his fingertips together in a praying like pose.
“What happens if I work the story for the next few weeks and, in the end, it turns out that Senator Knight is not Vince’s father? Where does that leave me with the job?”
“We’re confident we’re right with this one.” He sits up in his chair. “But no one has been able to prove it one way or the other. Bring us the proof and the job is yours. They’ve had some heavy hitters working this one for a while now, but Senator Knight has it tied up tighter than a virgin’s ass. The fighter’s our only way in…and seeing those pictures of you outside, I’m thinking pillow talking that man will be like taking candy from a baby.”