by Kara Hart
Brian catches eyes with me. He resumes course.
I drop my gaze and stare at Ali’s curves. A rush of pleasure goes straight to my cock. “Speaking of faithful people and asses, I wanted to introduce you to our in-house photographer.”
As soon as I finish the speech, Brian is there, and he’s got a glazed look in his eyes. “Buddy,” he says, bringing it in for a hug.
He squeezes so tight it pushes the air out of me. Then he starts forcibly rocking me by the shoulder. “Buddy,” he repeats with a scary grin.
“Brian,” I say. “My best friend in the entire world.”
He’s staring in my eyes harder than Ali has been all night. “You know, I gotta say, I took the finest cab ride downtown the other day. But when I got there, I didn’t have enough money to pay the driver.”
This is about to blow up in my face, isn’t it? “That must’ve been really annoying,” I say.
He bends forward, laughing. It goes on far too long, rising like the crescendos in that ballet, Swan Lake. Ali starts to mimic his laughter, and I wonder if it’s out of fear for her life.
After what feels like minutes, he smacks my chest and cools off. “Well, you know, we ended up settling it down in Capitol Hill. Twenty minutes from my house.”
“Hm. After rush hour? You didn’t try Uber?”
His grin fades. “I use Lyft, and I don’t store my card on my phone,” he grunts, mouth far too close for my liking. “I walked the whole way home.”
He’s mad at me. I get that. This party, however, was not my idea. Not to mention, I had too much on my plate. I had to send him away. If this were any other time, he’d understand. He’ll get over it.
I use the last of my charm to sway the conversation. “Insane,” I say. “By the way, I love the shots. You really captured a new vibe with this one. It’s adventurous, rebellious, and it even has this mystical flair. I’m obsessed.”
Those are adjectives that come to mind when I think of the desert. In reality, his photographs look like a Levi’s metro station ad.
He can’t deny that ego boost. All artists admire their work. “You really think it’s mystical?”
I adjust my face. “Well, it’s just a little spice,” I lie. “At least, that’s what came to my mind.”
He continues as if I never spoke. “Because I totally thought it was mystical. I mean, check out that purple mountain we used for the backdrop.”
“Catch me smoking some patchouli up there,” I say.
Chuckling, he takes a step back, dancing to his own rhythm. “Vision quest, baby,” he chants.
Ali and I laugh. “He’s really funny,” she whispers in my ear. “You should promote him.”
He takes her hand, lips rounding over her knuckles for a thick kiss. Jealousy burns through my stomach. “Love this woman, by the way.”
“Ah, forgive me,” I say. “I didn’t introduce you.”
“We were interrupted by Sandra,” Ali says.
Brian rolls his eyes. “We’ve learned how to deal with that one,” he says. “Give her a glass of chardonnay, and she’s set.”
“Anyway, I’m glad you came. Everyone’s been dying to meet you,” he says.
Ali touches her clavicle. “Really? Me?”
“Of course,” Brian lies. “You’re like a celebrity around here.”
I’d really like to kiss her, to feel her ride my cock up and down. This party is a drag. Sandra is gone, and Jim is nowhere in sight. It feels like I already won. Can’t we leave?
“A celebrity. Wow, did you hear that, Marc. You have some competition.”
Move on over, Brian.
The compliments are seemingly never-ending. “You are wonderful, hot, and the fact that you’re on board with all this is fucking killer,” Brian adds.
It’s the one thing I wish he didn’t add.
“Of course I’m on board,” she says. “He was acting like this party was going to be the worst thing in the world. Other than Sandra, I’m having a blast. In fact, I think you’ll find out I’m a pretty supportive woman.”
Ali is taking to Brian’s good natured spirit, but she doesn’t realize he’s a scorpio. He can be really twisted, even while bearing a calm smile. “The original idea Marc gave was good. Don’t get me wrong. I just thought adding a little extra to it would really perfect it.”
She bounces. “Oh! What was your original idea? I want to hear it.”
I start to pull her away. “I’m getting thirsty. Are you getting thirsty?”
“I’m okay,” Ali says with a big smile.
I force a tongue against my bottom lip. If I push hard enough, I might not be able to talk again.
At this moment, the elevator door rings a bell. To my horror, I watch the doors open. Jim is sporting the look of an off-duty cop on the prowl for a local bounty. It doesn’t take long for him to find us. He starts marching in our direction.
Brian doesn’t realize what he’s doing. He’s about to betray me to my face. The image of Brutus killing Julius Caesar springs to mind. It was a bad idea to push him into that cab.
“The original idea was simple. We needed a new push. Think nostalgic,” he says.
“Like the eighties?” she asks.
My eyes are facing Jim as he maneuvers through a rambunctiously dense crowd. “Eighties are chic,” I say. “Sixties inspire a sense of freedom. Revolution, a change. Yada-yada. We wanted something that conveyed something that reflects the times.”
“I like it,” she says.
My mouth is drier than the time I smoked pot before Biology 101 in college. I didn’t smoke anything in years, so it must be stress. Regardless, Jim is getting closer, and I need an excuse. The outside bar is perfect. There’s a crowd of people that part like the Red Sea to Moses. I can only hope they’ll close the gap behind us.
“Brian, it was delightful,” I say. “Now, I’d like to get drunk.”
He holds up his vodka-soda. “Cheers, old friend.”
Sandra is gone. Brian’s ego is satisfied. I’ve soared through every conversation with flying colors, but there’s still one mega-boss left: Big Jim.
“I’m really not that thirsty,” Ali says.
“I know, but I can’t stand and talk about business for this long. It turns my brain into Jell-O,” I say.
She shrugs and pushes her smile to the side. “I don’t know – I think it’s kind of exciting.”
“I’m acting picky again, aren’t I?” I ask.
“I mean, I get your point. It’s boring for you. But I’ve never been to an event like this. Everything is so important, so bright, and flashy.”
“Yeah, you know how when you go camping the moths fly directly into the fire?” I ask.
She touches my arm. “Oh, stop it. This isn’t that bad.”
Goosebumps rise across my skin. My dick is firm and pushing against my pants. I want her so fucking bad, it hurts.
I pull her toward the alcohol and flash two fingers at the bartender. They’ve been trained to know what drink I order, but when he hands me two old fashioned’s made with Jim Beam, I frown. Without making a scene, I tip the guy a hundred, and hand Ali her drink.
She takes one sip before setting it down. “You okay?” she asks.
Jim has spotted me again. It’s unclear whether or not he ever lost me in the first place.
“Me? I’m fine,” I say.
She rubs my arm. It feels so good, but I can tell she knows something is up. “You sure? You were pretty worked up earlier.”
“Maybe it was our talk with Sandra,” I say. “The talk with Brian was nice.”
“Well, cheer up. We don’t have to stay very much longer,” she says.
That steals my attention away from Jim’s body pushing through the forest of people. “You sure?”
She bites her bottom lip and lays her hands on my chest, rubbing the whole way down. “I’d like to try out your photo room again,” she says.
My lips curl into a smile. “What did you have in mind?”
/>
She slowly forms her mouth around mine. It melts through my fear and anxiety like Xanax. “Something raw and tantric,” she says. “Something just for us.”
I try to swallow, but I end up just coughing up my whiskey. “Yes, please. Let’s go. Now.”
But I sense what’s coming. The storm. Everything always gets quiet, calm, and sexy before a storm.
With fire in his eyes, Jim kicks the door open. As if it were instinct, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigar. He doesn’t even light it. It just sits, bent between two crowns. “Marc!”
I look away, knowing it’s a futile move.
“Don’t think you can avoid me now,” he shouts.
Ali steps forward. “Who is that?”
“A shareholder I’d rather not talk to,” I say.
She squints her eyes. “He looks really familiar.”
“That’s because he’s got the face of an asshole,” I say. “It’s really common in America.”
Sticking out her tongue and making a goofy face to me, she says, “Ha-ha. But he really does. Jeeze. It’s like right on the back of my mind.”
My heart starts pounding again. I hear the driving rhythm in my ears. “I’m going to go deal with him for a second. You good to wait here?”
She shakes her head. “I’d rather be with you, to be honest.”
My throat closes. “Trust me. You don’t want to meet this guy.”
She looks at me sharply. “I can handle myself, Marc Wylan,” she says.
There’s no getting out of this now. Jim’s going to lay it on me, and I’m going to lose the only woman I’ve ever loved. I never wanted to save this stupid magazine. It was a job I needed to take on, thrust upon me by the leaders of my staff. What a cruel world.
Jim’s scratchy voice pokes through his massive mustache. “Marc fucking Wylan, man of mystery. What gives me the honor?”
I suck in my cheeks, trying not to get mad or panic. First thing’s first, I change the subject by introducing Ali. I’m hoping he’s taken in by her beauty enough to not dwell on business affairs. “This is Ali Greenwald,” I say. “My girlfriend.”
I feel Ali’s eyes turn toward mine. She nudges my chin. “Girlfriend?”
It’s a little embarrassing litigating this whole thing at an office party. Nevertheless, it’s something that gets Jim’s attention.
He cries out with laughter. “You mean, you didn’t know?”
“This is a first for Marc,” she says. “Usually, he asks for permission.”
My cheeks are hot, but I’d rather this be at my expense than hers.
I pat his arm and give him the usual bullshit line every CEO gives at the unveiling events. “Anyway, I’m glad we talked. The future is always bright when we can think and act boldly,” I say.
He grabs my suit jacket. “Not so fast.”
I gulp.
Ali’s looking at me curiously. “What’s gotten into you?”
Jim’s starting to win. The goal posts are turning on me. But then Jim does something very stupid. “Honey, do you mind if we talk business for a few moments?”
Her head rocks forward and back like a bobblehead. “Uh...”
It gives me a chance to play hero. “Whatever you have to say, you can say around her.”
Except, Jim doesn’t give a shit about heroes and villains. He told me once the whole dichotomy between the two was a made up fantasy to keep everyone bickering. Maybe he’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s pretty damn good at playing a villain.
“Three old fashioneds. Glenlivet Distilled,” he says.
I raise my voice. “Jim.”
Ali stops me from overreacting. “No. It’s fine. I’ll get the ape his drink,” she says.
Jim doesn’t even flinch.
This is going better than I thought. He’s drunk. In about two minutes, people will demand I grab him a cab. I’ll look like a fucking hero all the way back to my photo room.
My heart pounds against my chest. Adrenaline surging, I clench my molars and take a thousand deep breaths. It’s been years since I’ve felt like I was winning. Tonight could be my lucky night.
“You’ve seen my phone calls,” he says.
I nod. “It’s only been a few days,” I argue, spinning to show him the work my staff has made for the team. “We’ve been setting this up. It’s all for you.”
He cracks his neck and bites down harder on his cigar. “I didn’t need all of this. I needed you to call me back.”
Narrowing my eyes, I pat him on the shoulder. This time, I’m the one squeezing his muscle. He doesn’t squirm nearly hard enough, but it’s something. “I don’t work for you.” I point to my name on the side of the building. “See that? That’s my name.”
“We are the ones propping you up,” he growls. “Don’t tempt me. I will shut you down.”
People are starting to look. I can hear the faint tones of guests whispering.
“Then shut me down,” I say. “You think I need this place? I have a couple of billion. It may not be as much as you own, but it’s enough.”
He wobbles. Suddenly, he doesn’t have much to say. I’ve found the keys to his control, and it’s throwing him for a loop.
I look at him as if he was under a microscope. “You okay, Jim?”
He sucks in a macho laugh, turning to face the crowd of gathered people with a slick smile. “Am I okay?”
I wave to the people watching gleefully. “It’s all right. Nothing to see here. Just a little too much fun at the party,” I say.
I look over at Ali. She’s got three drinks in her hands. I motion to her to set one down. It’s safe now, I think.
Jim catches my motion and scoffs. When Ali returns empty-handed, he’s fuming.
I make eye contact with another guest that looks vaguely familiar. “If you’ll excuse us, we have other people we need to talk to.”
Jim raises his brow. “Wait, a second,” he says. “I’m not through with you. I want to talk to the model.”
Ali leans forward, flattered. “Oh, I’m not a model. I’m just a teacher, but thank you.”
I try to pull her away. That was our moment to leave. After one compliment, she’s ready to talk the idiot’s ear off.
His movements are unstable, and his speech is slurred. “Oh, I’m sure you’re a fine teacher,” he says, grinning far too wide for my liking.
“We have to go,” she says.
Jim grabs her hand. “Before you do, I need to say one thing to your himbo here.”
Himbo. Nice.
“All good. We’re just going to make our way to the elevator,” I say, words dropping like broken piano keys.
“If you would’ve just called me back, I could’ve told you the news,” he says to me.
“What news?” Ali asks.
“Look, honey, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings tonight,” he says. “But your man has left me no choice.”
She scrunches her face. “Why would my feelings be hurt?”
He sucks in a tired, drunk breath.
It doesn’t matter what I do. I can’t stop someone from speaking. He’s about to spill the beans on my elaborately stupid plan to save my own ass at the expense of her. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but I wasn’t in love with Ali back then.
I was arrogant. My ego was bigger than Brian’s.
“Because we went with a different woman,” he says.
Ali looks at me. “Okay, now I’m lost.”
Jim chuckles. “Jesus, Marc. Do you tell his lady anything?”
I don’t have to look at Ali to know that her eyes are on fire. This is worse than if Brian shouted it out on the rooftops.
“What’s going on, Marc?” she asks.
Facing her, I’m reminded of the first time we met. Only, this time, I’m Ragamuffin, and Jim is Rowdy. She’s going to side with him, and I’ll be left with the assholes in this building. I’ll still be the same man I was before I met her. That doesn’t seem good enough.
>
Any hint of a good time falls from my face. “It was just a stupid plan,” I say. “A horrible idea.”
She taps her heel. “Tell me.”
Here it goes. “I sort of, kind of told the shareholders you’d help out with the magazine.”
“Help out,” she repeats. “What the hell does that even mean, Marc? Just tell me the truth.”
I exhale, lowering my head for her to decapitate me. “I made up a story to keep this stupid company going,” I say. “At the time, it seemed like a good idea. We just met. You were inspiring.”
She slides her head to the left. “I don’t believe this.”
There’s no use in stopping, so I keep going. “I told them you had agreed to model. I said we could use you for the first issue of Momma Bear.”
“You gave them our story,” she says. “The gas station. My car...”
Ready to come to terms with the reality that this is probably ending, I nod. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
I didn’t realize my stupidity until recently. That doesn’t score me any brownie points. It just makes me look worse.
“This whole thing,” Jim waves, “is about you.”
She looks disgusted with me. “Is that why you showed me your photography room?” she asks.
“No, that was a coinci—”
“And when were you going to tell me?”
I feel claustrophobic, like the walls are closing in on me. My instinct is to do what she did on the night of our first dinner, run. Knowing my lung capacity, I wouldn’t get too far.
“So you staged this whole thing,” she says.
“It was more of a half-assed thing that evolved after people in my staff took it to the next level,” I say.
She gravitates away from me. Her hand trembles as she brings her hands above her head. “Staged this whole thing just to get laid,” she shouts. “Pretty good plan, right?”
Fuck.
I know the words she’s referencing. They’re mine. Those are the stupid fucking words I used last night. Right before I ate her pussy. It was a joke. One particularly real joke.
Well, you know what they say: You are what you eat. I’m an ass and a total pussy.