by Maggie Twain
“What?” I yell as I jump to my feet.
He doesn’t flinch. “Are your scores, as you claim, really within the top one percent in your state or were you given such generous funding for some other reason?”
I’m so outraged that I cannot stop myself from closing the gap between us and marching straight up to his desk. This time he does flinch, though not near as much as I would have liked. “For your information, Mister Astor, I never even met the man, but you can keep your money. I’m not so desperate for funding that I’ll sit and take being insulted like that.” It’s not true, I really, really need this money and I almost can’t believe what I’m doing because the way I’m going it’s about to mean the end of my career as an architect before it’s even begun. “Now you listen to me…”
“Haley…” he’s recoiling for real now and it’s strangely satisfying.
“No, no, don’t interrupt, you’ve had your horrible say and…”
“Haley,” he’s averting his eyes as he points one of his long fingers in the direction of my face, “your mask, please…”
It’s hitched up again, whoops, exposing part of my mouth, but this time I remove it from my face completely before peeling off the gloves and flinging the lot straight at the awful man. It’s just a shame there’s no jug of water to pour over his stupid head as well. “And you should learn not to be so paranoid.” I rest my hands on the edge of his desk and lean forwards, and I can’t help but take pleasure from it. “Whoo, look, my fingerprints are touching your precious little desk,” I tap rhythmically upon the surface and I’ve not felt so full of energy in weeks, or maybe I just no longer care about this or anything else, my career’s ruined anyway so what does anything else even matter?
“Haley…” he hisses and now he’s looking at me differently, his lips move in an effort to speak but he’s having trouble finding the words.
But I’m better than this, marginally, and instead decide to remain dignified because it is, after all, the Harvard way, for what that’s worth, and so I simply back away, turn on my flats and head straight for the door, not once glancing back to think again about what I’m doing.
Because I don’t want to change my mind.
Chapter Four
Decker
So, having my baby’s out of the question then? I lack the coherence to shout after her as she storms out and the door slams shut with an almighty crash. We didn’t even get to the good part, though under the circumstances, it was probably best I left it…
For now.
Because I can’t leave it like this.
Haley disobeyed me and that fact has given me what has to be the hardest boner of my entire life. Not only that but she chastised me, stood her ground, held firm and refused to take my shit.
I’ve not had much experience with women but who knew they could be so much fun?
Fun and frustrating, because this thing I have bulging inside my pants is causing some considerable pain. I have to readjust myself so that I can sit comfortably again and then give myself a little squeeze. It doesn’t help. No, if anything I’ve made it worse. But deep down in my heart, I know that Haley’s is the face I’ll be thinking of when I’m jacking off into a plastic cup, hers and no one else’s.
An hour before our meeting, Bailey had filled me in on the details surrounding her scholarship and the moment I heard the name Larry Hadded, alarm bells began ringing loudly inside my head. This girl is a fraud. And she’s on her way to meet me. Of course, I had to ask the tough questions, I’m searching for the mother of my child so I make no apologies for it.
But no! There was no faking that reaction. The way my accusation had disgusted her completely. And now I’m absolutely convinced she’s the real deal. That her funds had been awarded through merit and merit alone.
Haley possesses intelligence in abundance. She had earned her scholarship. And now she’s just earned herself another.
Did I mention she’s beautiful too? My cock confirms that. “Will you go down,” I growl to myself, “I have shit to do.”
She has the face of an angel. Big blue eyes in a perfect symmetrical face. Slender nose, wide thin lips, silky auburn hair and crystal clear skin.
Our child will be worthy of the Astor name.
Now, I find myself staring at her seat, where her little ass had been parked for all of two minutes before she left me, numb, conflicted and raging hard. The sponge beneath black leather exterior still shows a large compression mark, decompressing ever more by the second as it gradually fills with air, and I stand and begin moving toward it before my brain kicks in and I come to a stop. I want to touch it, what remains of the slowly dissipating imprint left by her buttocks but I can’t. Something throbs inside my head. Twitches. Clicks. Snaps. A spider falls over my vision and I twist away, clenching my fists.
I have my doctor on speed dial. He’s waiting. All Haley has to do is agree to my terms and I’ll gladly fill that container with my seed. For her! I want a little piece of me inside of her, fertilizing one very special egg. Her intelligence. Wit. Beauty. Sass.
I love it.
All of it.
And I will not settle for anyone else.
Haley will be the mother of my child.
And Haley is the savior of my inheritance.
Her gloves and face mask. I see them now on the floor. Where she flung them at me. I move away from them. Shudder. Throbbing in my head. I twist away.
I must go after her. I must say I’m sorry. Do whatever it takes to make it right.
“Where’s Carey?” I move for my cell and begin fumbling with the screen when the thing comes to life and Tanner’s solemn face is staring back at me. “What does he want?” I consider not answering, I’m in a rush to get after Haley, to make things right, but I have a feeling that I probably need to know whatever it is my youngest brother has to say. I sigh and deign to press answer. “Yes?”
There’s a long pause where he’s staring straight into the lens, breathing heavily. Eventually, he says, “nice try, Ditch.”
“Tan, what are you talking about?”
There’s a contemptuous release of air. “I know what you’re doing.”
I can only hesitate whilst I shake my head. “I…”
“You must think me stupid.”
I don’t, I definitely don’t. “Look, I’m in a rush, so why don’t you tell me what this is or else stop wasting my time.”
“I’ve already sent you the images over WhatsApp. Perhaps you should take a look at them, jackass. And you should also realize that the people who work for me are better than the people who work for you.” There’s another contemptuous snort of air. “This Carey guy? Please! You put too much faith in him.”
I reduce the size of his face and flip through my messages. Sure enough, he’s sent over pictures of Carey sitting in his car across the street from the headquarters of Tanner’s fashion brand.
“I also know that little bastard’s attempted to hack into our system.”
I don’t want to confirm or deny anything and it’s a struggle to remain pokerfaced. Either way, his anger saves me from having to respond because he moves straight into a monologue.
“This is not a game you can possibly win, Ditch. I own a fashion brand, don’t forget, I have a hundred models at my beck and call, any one of whom would kill for the chance to have my baby. Whereas you…” there’s that blast of air again, “what are you anyway? A thirty-five-year-old virgin? You’re afraid to even touch a woman, never mind impregnate one.” Oh, the poor fool, because that, right there, all but confirms to me that he’s not onto my plan. At least not unless he’s playing dumb. I don’t need to fuck a girl to get her pregnant. “All that saliva and sweat, rubbing against you, Ditch, just think about it, what it’ll do to you, your sanity, all those germs.”
I have to shut my eyes as I feel my entire body shaking. I’m in such a state that I forget to angle the camera away and there’s little doubting he sees my discomfort.
The laugh
ter cuts right through me. “Just give it up, brother, it pains me to see you this way, really, it does. Just accept defeat, that you’re never going to breed and that you have no chance of winning this game. Don’t worry about grandpa’s rules, once I have the money, I’ll see you good, don’t worry about that, I’ll find you a nice cottage on the coast, far away from trouble, from people, but you have to drop this shit right now. Whatever it is you’re planning, just drop it, otherwise you’ll find yourself destitute for the rest of your life, living in the gutter. Just think about it, Ditch, gutters are dirty. How do you think you’ll fare living amongst all the filth with the rats and bums?” He’s still laughing when he ends the call.
I twist away and dash for the bathroom, splash cold water over my face and stare into the reflection that’s looking back at me. Several clumps of blond hair have fallen over my eyes and I fleck it back before drying myself with a towel. After that, I cast the towel to the trash. When I return to my office, Carey’s there waiting.
“Decks, are you alright?”
I straighten up to my full, considerable height and manage to compose myself. “We’ve been busted.”
His head jerks back. “Busted?”
“You were seen.” I’m sounding pissed, very pissed. “You were too close. Surely you know to stand back and follow from a distance.”
His hands flap uselessly. “Decks, I did, I was standing halfway down the street with my binoculars and tracer.”
I wave his excuses away. What does it matter now anyway? “I’m calling it off. Leave him. His emails. I don’t want to know what you found. If I can’t win this thing fairly then maybe I don’t deserve to win at all.”
He’s squinting into thin air. “Emails? Decks, I haven’t got round to that yet.”
I gaze at him intently. “What?”
He shrugs. “Give me chance, man, I’ve not had the time.”
Air escapes me and I lean back, perching against the desk. “Then it’s Butch.” It comes out as a hiss. So, the embarrassment’s playing the game too, is he? Still, he’s no threat. None at all.
Carey’s looking at me and can read my mind. “Um, Decks, weren’t you about to go after Haley?”
I grab my jacket from around the back of my chair, along with a fresh mask and pair of gloves. “Right, let’s go.”
Chapter Five
Haley
I’m not sure how I feel right now.
After the adrenaline surge I received during the meeting with that awful man, I’m now on a bit of a comedown. My prior vigor has turned to fatigue and now I’m so tired that I recognize I’m probably starving. But worse than that, the hope I’d earlier felt has phased to despair and the hour-long walk home, that should have taken thirty minutes, is giving me plenty of time to ponder my future.
I’m out of money.
And neither do I have a wealthy uncle to bail me out.
Right now, my landlord is waiting in my kitchen, drinking our coffee, and my only hope is that I can persuade him, somehow, to give me some breathing space. If he refuses then I have nothing else left to fall back on. No more ideas. I’ll have to go home, kiss goodbye to my dreams and maybe find a job at Walmart. No shame in that, it’s just not what I always wanted, not what I dreamed.
I almost collapse through the front door and the moment I see Mister Burlington’s stern face, I yearn for this meeting to go fast, preferably with the right outcome. I have a class in less than an hour and of course, tonight some band or other will be shortening the longevity of my eardrums.
He’s sitting on a barstool and makes a show of checking his watch. “It’s little wonder you can’t make rent when you’re unable to even keep time.” His eyes roll upwards. “I don’t know, you feckless students…”
“I’m sorry for being late and I’m sorry for missing rent again.” I place my bag down on the table and delve around inside for the wad of bills I’d hastily withdrawn. Easy come, easy go. Actually, they didn’t come easy at all, no, they came exceptionally hard for me.
He slides a handful of post-dated checks across the bar, the ones I signed when I moved in. “Are these things even worth the paper they’re written on, Haley? These past two months you’ve cost me more than a hundred bucks in fines.”
I ignore that and pass him the month’s rent in cash, minus the sixty bucks bank charges. “Here it is, um, less the…”
He snatches it straight out from my grip and flicks through it, counting, before adding it to a monumental wedge of bills he brings out from the inside of his jacket pocket and returning it, with addition, to the same. He pushes up his glasses and pinches at the skin atop his nose. “We’re almost square. Almost. But I’m still short sixty dollars, Haley.”
My gaze tilts down to the absolutely filthy student floor. Cleaning is hardly a priority right now. “I, um, I could see about maybe putting in a few extra shifts at the club,” oh, no, wait, that’s not even possible, “no, erm, maybe I could put in a few more punts delivering takeout with the app.” The very thought is horrifying, I can barely even stand, let alone cycle around Boston laden down with a heavy backpack filled with hot meals, but I’ll totally do it if there’s no other choice.
He waves my offer away and makes a deliberate display of yawning. “Honestly, you’re more worn out than I am and that’s saying something. It’s a wonder you find any time for studying, I mean, I thought you were a student at Harvard, that is what your roommates are saying, after all. Look, your cupboard is bare. Your shelf in the fridge possesses an empty jar of pickles. You’re not even eating, are you? It’s easy to tell just by looking at you. Why do this to yourself?”
It’s all true, of course, and all I can do is flap my hands uselessly. “It’s not easy, I agree, but I’ll get through it.” Something will come up, though, in reality, probably not. No, on second thoughts, I think the chance I threw away this morning was my something. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to react so badly to a simple question. No, wait, that guy was a jerk, a very handsome and strange jerk, and I was right to give him a piece of my mind before rejecting whatever his offer was about to be. I have no regrets there. Sort of.
Mister Burlington shakes his head and sounds final. “No, Haley, you will not get through it. Do you have any idea how many students I’ve had quit on me this year? More than usual, let me tell you, and I’ve dealt with enough of you people to know the signs, that I’m almost certainly not going to get my rent next month.”
My eyesight goes blurry and I’m not sure I’m feeling well. I attempt to blink away the fog. “What are you saying?”
He hesitates and I think he’s trying to read the situation here, my demeanor possibly. “There are … other ways you can pay.”
I straighten and my glassy eyes regain focus. “What … what do you mean?” Surely, he can’t mean what I think he does. Surely! This is Mister Burlington, my landlord I’m talking with. He’d always seemed so decent and accommodating, at least until a few weeks ago.
He reaches out and takes my hand, which is about the biggest surprise of my life up until this point. “There are … certain advantages women have when it comes to these matters.” His gaze drops down to my breasts and back up to my eyes and there can be no misinterpreting what he’s suggesting. I refuse to lose my virginity this way, to some middle-aged man who’s suddenly turned creepy and all for sixty dollars of rent forgiveness. “Can you think what that might be?” He wants me to say it because he lacks the balls to say it himself and then later, if I was to attempt to sue his ass for sexual harassment, he could simply plead ignorance and say to the judge that all he meant was that he wanted me to clean his car or iron his shirts. I don’t know, my head’s spinning so fast right now.
I yank my hand away from him. Where are a pair of gloves when you need them? Maybe Mister Astor was right about a few things, after all, but why am I even thinking about him at a time like this. “I will never…”
Before I can launch into a tirade, he’s quick to overwhelm my t
ired protestations with the simple use of a silencing hand. “You’ve broken your rental agreement, Haley, twice, so now I’m exercising my right to evict you.” He drains the rest of his coffee and stands. “You have thirty minutes to pack your bags and leave.”
I just turn around and stamp upstairs to my room. Why argue? I don’t want to be here anyway, not after that. I’ll deal with adding homelessness to my ever-expanding list of problems when I’m standing out on the street with my bags, after it properly sinks in, because right now I’m not sure I can even believe I was just propositioned by my landlord.
That moment arrives just fifteen minutes later and never was there a sound more terrifying than that of your former front door slamming shut when you’re holding two heavy bags as you look down the length of your street whilst contemplating what the fuck you’re supposed to do next.
My head begins to swirl. I swallow. Potter a few steps. Stop. Potter again. My gaze focuses on a homeless guy in tattered clothes sleeping against a wall with a paper cup beside him. I feel the tears beginning to build at the back of my head, waiting to unleash in an explosion of emotion and I’m just about to let go completely when the familiar Bentley pulls up beside me.