by Ada Frost
“The lawyers are already onto it. I’ve instructed they implement a gagging order. So any information he gets out of Scarlet will be completely void.” This was why Samuel was my right hand man.
“Nice one. That’s one less thing to worry about.”
“Game of Thrones or Walking Dead?”
“Either.” I placed my mug on the bedside table and slid down into the covers. Memories of Abigail assaulted me, the way I spoke to her. How goddamn beautiful and unattainable she looked. The way she laughed and joked with Lacey and Samuel.
The theme music to Game of Thrones started, and I turned on my side to face Samuel but kept my eyes closed. I willed the pills to start working because my head felt like it had a heavy metal group in there.
“So what happened last night?”
“You were there; you know what happened.”
“I mean with Abby.”
“I want to sleep.” I moaned.
“Tough shit. What happened?” His tone was tight, not at all his usual joviality.
“She served her purpose. Why are you clinging to this one?” I huffed, turning away to face the window. My words burned in my stomach, because they were so far from the truth. Rarely, if ever, did I lie to Samuel. He was one of the few people in my life I trusted implicitly.
“Fuck me, it’s happened.”
“What has?” I rolled onto my back and glanced at the screen to see what he was talking about.
“If I’d known you felt that way about her, mate, I would never have touched her.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We share women all the time. This was no different.”
“You never reacted this way about a woman before either.” He snorted.
“Look, I got drunk. So what. Steve pissed me off. I was tense about the awards. I didn’t fucking kill anyone. Christ, you’re being so dramatic.”
“You were a bastard last night. Yeah, you’re normally a cantankerous son of a bitch at the best of times, but you never set out to hurt people. You made her fucking cry, Lawson.”
“So you did take her home,” I snarled, hating that I was showing more of my fear than anything. And it was easier than accepting the self-hate at making her cry.
“The fuck? No! She raced out of here like the hounds of hell were after her. There are always tears with reactions like that.”
Pain sliced through me, knowing I’d done that to her. My jealousy and pitiful self-doubt had injured her. I’d felt out of control and taken it out on her.
“I’m sure she’ll get over it. Women do.” I grabbed my tea, taking a healthy swallow and fixed my gaze on the screen.
“If you didn’t want me to touch her, I wouldn’t have. You know that.”
“It makes no difference to me who you fuck.” The glacial tone in my voice was pissing me off. No matter how much I tried to rein in my anger at him, I couldn’t, and I hated this feeling of burning rage.
“I didn’t touch her.”
“That isn’t what I saw. Had I not come down stairs you two would have —”
“So why interrupt? If you don’t care…why the fuck stop us?” he argued, turning to face me. His face contorted in frustration.
“Don’t interrupt me,” I snapped.
“Fuck off, you pious little shit. Answer the damn question.”
“It’s my bloody house.”
“And I’ve had numerous women on that couch. So have you. In this bed too. And you have never given a shit. Ever.”
“I didn’t care last night.”
“You…God, you’re infuriating.” He jumped from the bed and ran his hands through his hair. “Sex has always been easy. There has never been this tension. We fuck, sometimes we share. There is no bullshit before or afterwards. So why now?”
“You’re the one getting pissy,” I exclaimed, pointing at him.
“I wouldn’t have touched her.”
“I told you, I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do. That’s the fucking problem. Every time I go near her you look at me like you want to rip my balls off. You forbade me from kissing her, Lawson.”
“So?”
“You’ve never done that. What were we…seventeen when we had our first threesome?”
“Something like that.” I shrugged. It was awkward as hell. At first, I wasn’t into him touching me. And kissing him wasn’t great either. But watching the women react to it, seeing what that did to them, turned me on. Once I relaxed into it and stopped over thinking shit, it became a sort of routine. After a while in this business, you need more of a varied palette to satisfy your needs. Toys have never been my thing. I like to touch, to feel. I want to be the one in control and provide the pleasure. Samuel joining in with some women was a game, something to add spice to the sex. With Abigail, I hated him giving her pleasure. He was stealing what was mine.
“You keep women at a distance; you walk away without a second glance. Some you don’t even learn their names. It’s the icy detachment always with you, but with Abby it seems different. Give her a chance, stop letting your mum and dad rule how you view the world,” he implored.
“I need to go to sleep.” I turned to face away from him. My head was hurting too much to deal with this shit.
“You’ll fucking lose her, Lawson. Stop being afraid of letting someone close.”
“Samuel, you’re whining, shut up.” I groaned, pulling the quilt over my head. My chest was hurting as much as my head and stomach. I didn’t want to lose Abigail, but I had absolutely no clue how to keep her. And what happened when she didn't want me anymore?
My buddy crawled back onto the bed to watch TV. We remained in a silent funk for most of the day. I dosed in and out of sleep, never quite recovering from the hangover from hell. I was haunted by Miss Warner each time I closed my eyes.
Monday morning, and I was so nervous about going into the office. He was a romance-schizophrenic. Part of me had started to believe he had a softer side. That what we’d shared may mean something, but now I believe he was back to being a raving arsehole. I wasn’t sure what provoked half of what he said. Other than he was clearly insane.
I paused in the threshold of my office with my hand on the doorknob. He was sitting on my desk.
Waiting.
Shit.
He stood and straightened his jacket. Pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves.
“Morning, Mr Stone.” I projected a false, bright countenance. He blanched at my using his formal title.
“Miss Warner, I need to apologise. I have ruminated over the weekend whether flowers or a gift would benefit my cause. Then I thought perhaps I should turn up at your door, but I felt that would be invading your private space. I’m a little inept at apologies. I don’t make them very often.”
My lips curled at the edges, but I fought against a smile. He didn’t deserve those anymore.
“My behaviour on Friday was deplorable. I never drink, certainly not to excess. As you can see, it doesn’t really agree with me. If it’s any consolation, I think I’m still hung-over. I slept all of Saturday, and Samuel made me run yesterday. He said it would clear my head and make me feel better.”
“Did it?” I found myself asking.
“No, I threw up four times before he let me walk home.”
I laughed. His sulky face was too comical.
Scarlet appeared behind me, startling me.
“Lawson, your client for the 9am meeting has arrived.”
“Show him to the conference room. I’ll be there shortly.”
Shock radiated through me that he would delay something. Never in the time had I been here had he not been punctual. Other than my interview, which I believe was more of him making a point than actual tardiness. When Scarlet balked, I realised she too had never witnessed it. She turned to leave and I closed the door behind her.
“I never meant to upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”
“You hurt me. You humiliated me. I felt like a cheap whore when I left your home.�
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He closed his eyes and fisted his hands by his sides.
“Why would you do that to me?”
“I have no excuse,” he choked.
Anger radiated through me. He was lying. Even now, he was lying to me. Like a petulant child I stomped my foot.
“I deserve an explanation.”
“I was jealous. All night I wanted you, and you spent the evening smiling, laughing, and joking with Samuel and Lacey. I never even received so much as a simper.”
“You took a date. A fucking date, after you had just spent the afternoon making me come.”
His brow crinkled. “She wasn’t a date. Not in that respect. Every year we attend together. I have no interest in her. Nor have I ever.”
“You’re going to tell me you’ve never slept with her.”
“I haven’t. Ever.”
“Liar.”
His eyes flashed with anger, and his hands twitched at his sides. “I may be many things, Miss Warner, an insensitive prick for not considering your feelings about my keeping a previous engagement. But I never lie. I’ve never, nor will I ever, fuck that woman. Want to know why? She is one of my father’s previous whores. I make a point never to dip my dick where he has been.”
I cringed.
“We accompany one another to the awards to show there is no animosity between our companies. I don’t account for her views on our arrangement. She is the producer of Triple Tease. If she were a date, do you believe I would be as crass as to sit her at a separate table and try my damndest to get the attention of the only woman who drives me in-fucking-sane. Distracted, insensitive, and completely addicted to you are some of the things you can accuse me of. However, I am not a liar.”
“You were a twat.”
“I agree.”
I shook my head. I had nothing else to add. His words were verging on apologetic, and I did believe him. However, I was still hurt and angry. He’d made me look a fool, and the nasty rebuff still stung. Forgiving him was not within me right now.
“I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology.”
When he huffed out a relieved breath, I held up my hand. “I think all this has proven that we should halt what was happening between us. I’ll be honest and admit I was hurt because I’ve allowed myself to feel more than I should. And I know that’s the last thing you want, and I’m not asking for anything from you. In fact, I’m demanding the opposite. Clearly sex has muddied my common sense, and I need space. I need this job, Lawson; I can’t let anything jeopardise that. I’m too much of a coward to risk losing this job even in the pursuit of something I want.”
“Sam said you would make me beg,” he muttered, and I barely wanted to believe the words.
“Pardon?”
“I understand.” His simple acquiescence sliced through me, causing a shattering pain in my chest. Part of me wanted him to fight for me. I wanted to be worth the fight, but his quick agreement killed something inside me.
“Thank you,” I choked. Hating how weak my voice sounded.
Without another word he turned on his heel and headed to the conference room. Why did it feel like a part of my heart followed him?
The fun was over; she had ended it. Wasn’t as if it was the end of the world. There were plenty of Miss Warners out there. She wasn’t exactly a rare breed. I sat down at my desk. I’d put a stop to arrangements plenty of times and had women inform me they no longer wished to see me. Which was fine. Therefore, Abigail ending our illicit affair was nothing new. To be honest, it was a good thing, the last thing I needed was her to get clingy.
When the internal line rang, I glanced through to Abigail, who had the phone pressed to her ear but her body turned away from me.
“Yes?”
“You have a call from a Ms Jacobs from Triple Tease. Would you like me to connect it?”
“Ah, I believe you met the other night in the limo.” Why the hell did I say that? Watching her through the glass, I noted the jerk of her shoulders, and she straightened her spine.
“Wonderful. Would you like to take the call?”
“Yes. Very much so.” I replied way too cheerful. Clearly, my ego was a little stung from her rebuff, and I wanted some retribution. Miss Warner didn’t reply. The only voice I heard was the annoying one of Star Jacobs.
“Is this a personal call, Ms Jacobs?”
“I’m calling for an apology,” she purred.
“Apology for what exactly?”
“Abandoning me at the awards. A gentleman never abandons his date.” Her voice grated on my nerves.
“I apologise,” I grumbled.
“That was easier than I expected,” she said in a honeyed voice. Why the hell did women think acting like a prepubescent teen was appealing to men?
“I apologise for your misconception that I am indeed a gentleman or that we were on a date.”
“What?”
“Ms Jacobs, I have no interest in dating you. Not now or ever. I made that clear. Our arrangement was purely business.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the tension building inside of me. “The only woman I am interested in was dressed in white and is half your age.” At her gasp of outrage, I ended the call. My honesty with her was a sudden, painful wakeup call to my senses. I hated feeling like this, unsure and so fucking lost. My life was moderated by control. Emotional outbursts by others were truly vexing. I didn’t want to be like that.
Friday night had been an utter disaster. My previous arrangement with Star was destined to cause me hassle. If I had cancelled on her, she would’ve created a scene that would’ve muddied the entire evening, and my staff deserved the glory and not the scandal. Especially for Lexi Ball, who had deserved every single award she’d won. I hadn’t told her the title of the fifth award she was nominated for — Best International Newcomer. It was something we’d been nominated for as a company before but never even come close to winning, but this year I had a strong feeling Lacey was the favourite. It was a proud moment, to watch her go on stage and receive her recognition, or it would have been if I could have taken my gaze from Abigail. She had been so beautiful, sitting beside Samuel in her white dress, wiping tears away as she clapped maniacally. The secret had been worth keeping to see the shock and happiness on her face. Strange how I couldn’t join in their joy and congratulate Lacey, but instead I’d sat at the other side of the table and had been a total shit and drank vile fucking champagne that tasted like vinegar.
I scrubbed my hands over my face and groaned.
“Mr Stone, you need to sign these documents. The courier will be here shortly to collect them.” Abigail’s taut voice did nothing to alleviate the anxiety clawing away inside of me. In the beginning I had thrived on her attitude, craved her submission, and never received it. Why now did it hurt that she was acting as I originally wanted? I lifted my hand without looking at her and pulled out a pen. I made a show of reading over them, even though I knew every word in the document. Abigail was simply the go between. Pathetically, I just wanted her close a little longer.
“Samuel needs to sign it also,” I insisted as I handed it back to her just to provoke her sass.
“Okay.”
I scowled because that wasn’t at all the response I wanted. When she turned to head out of the office, I lifted my gaze to her arse and watched the perfect curves sway. Ignoring the need to call her back and ask her to stay away from Samuel. It was irrational and stupid. If she wanted to fuck him, I had no right to forbid it.
Other than you want her for yourself.
I’d seen Samuel pleasure women before. It was something both of us got off on, but with Miss Warner there was something different about it. I had this odd sensation inside me when he touched her, especially Friday night. He flirted with numerous women, and I knew he’d never take a woman from under my nose if I was serious about her. I’d wanted to keep Abigail to myself, I wasn’t prepared to admit there was a possibility of something more. My secret almost. Him touching her was a wake
up call I finally had something to lose.
Samuel had done exactly what I wanted to do all evening — he freely touched her. Something I wanted to do so badly and didn’t feel like I had a right to. He made her smile and laugh. She’d looked at him with such warmth I’d been desperately jealous. I was never jealous of my best friend. Ever. With Abigail I didn’t feel I was enough. She stripped me and made me raw, and I hated feeling so vulnerable.
After fifteen minutes, Miss Warner was still vacant from her position in the other office, so I stood abruptly and headed to Samuel’s, under the ruse of needing to discuss studio plans. When I opened his door and entered his office without knocking, he jerked as if I’d startled him. I glanced around his office to find he was the only occupant.
“She isn’t here.” He smirked.
Arsehole.
“Who?”
“Let’s not play that game. I’m not an idiot, although I’m beginning to realise you’re the biggest fucking pleb on this planet.”
“Excuse me?”
“Abby came in here, asked me to sign some documents, and left. What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Lawson.”
“Samuel.”
“God, you’re a fucking knob when you know you’re wrong.”
“It’s her job to have you sign papers.” When he continued to stare at me, my resolve snapped. “You don’t even know what the fuck’s going on,” I argued.
“Let me guess. She kicked your arse for being a prick Friday night, and instead of apologising, you wimped out.”
“Actually, dickhead, I did apologise.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“So...”
“Well, clearly saying sorry doesn’t get your dick out of deep freeze.” I huffed.
“I don’t understand.”
“Me either, pal.” I snorted, sliding into one of his office chairs. I steepled my fingers and rested them against my lips. “It was fun while it lasted,” I mused, shrugging as if my pulse wasn’t racing and my head wasn’t pounding with thoughts of how to win her back.
“So you’re done?”