Cunning Linguist: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Alexis Angel

  But her words hit home. They fucking sting, I'll admit it.

  I imagine this is what a quarterback feels like during a football game when a defensive end blindsides him, and he's left staring at the ball that's been knocked out of his hands and it's pathetically flopping around the turf, a brown smear just out of reach.

  I wasn't expecting this from CJ. It definitely catches me off guard.

  "Wait, back the fuck up. What do you mean?" I ask.

  "I quit, Aidan. It's simple. I'm terminating our agreement," she replies, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

  "You can't be fucking serious," I say.

  I'm having a hard time believing the words tumbling out of her mouth. Her lips are moving but they aren't making sense. CJ's been a stellar fucking PA over the years, and there's no way I'm letting her walk away that easily. What happened to the CJ who just recently was pushing me to write more books?

  "I'm serious as a heart attack," she says flatly. She can read the shock on my face and continues, "What? Do you expect me to sit back and feel good about what you did to Abby? That was shitty, Aidan. An all time low—even for you."

  For a moment, I stare at her, speechless. I try searching her face for clues, but when I don't find any, I give up and sit up straight in my chair.

  “I knew this was going to end in a disaster, and I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop,” CJ says and I close my eyes as I listen to her. “Everyone is so happy with the new and improved Aidan Stone. Only I know the real man.”

  "Abby?" I ask, still fixated on her last sentence.

  "Yeah, you remember her, don't you?" she asks sarcastically. "The woman you decided to write a book with, and then promptly screw over?"

  All I can do is stare at her as she speaks.

  "Oh, come on Aidan! I'm tired of the games. Don't play dumb. Cheryl told me everything."

  When I still don't respond, CJ grows increasingly frustrated.

  "I knew you were going to screw this up," she continues. "You always do—mixing work and pleasure. But I guess there was this little part … a little bit of hope in me that thought this time was going to be different, especially with the pregnancy. That maybe you actually gave a shit about Abby … that maybe you … dare I say it … even loved her. But I guess old habits die hard, right? I shouldn't have expected this time to be any different."

  "Wait? Did you just fucking say pregnancy?" I ask. My head is swirling and everything in my peripheral vision is growing blurry. It's like my head is being placed in a fishbowl. My heart is kicking in my chest. I'm trying to just breath. To try and gather my thoughts. To try and slow my brain down a bit.

  Anything to stay calm.

  "She was planning on telling you, but you stood her up, asshole. She was pretty beat up over it too … and then seeing your Facebook post about your new book with Bad Boy Publishing, "Huge Cock" … well, that just put her really over the edge. And I don't blame her, with you practically rubbing it in her face and all. What do you expect?"

  She removes the napkin from her lap and places it in a crumpled heap on top of the table. Then she pushes her chair back, and the scratch of the chair's legs against the tile—that high-pitched sound that no one likes—makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She begins to leave.

  “You know, you might have a 12 inch dick, Aidan, but as a person, you’re not even an inch tall, fucker,” she tells me.

  “You gonna let me say something?” I say to CJ. “I can fucking explain, babe.”

  "Look, this has been fun and all, but like I said, I'm done. It's time for me to move on. It's best for you to move on too. I'm sure you can find another PA who could care less about who you fuck and what you do with your personal life. But that's not me."

  I watch as she begins to leave, and just as she turns her back I say, "Wait. I fucking love her too, CJ!"

  She stops and slowly turns around, and for the first time holds my gaze.

  "I have a plan," I continue.

  CJ places her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes, as if this is some sort of prank. "Sure you do. You always seem to have a plan, but not this time. You can't fix this."

  I press her further. "I need you to trust me, CJ. And I know that may be hard for you because I haven't always made the best choices in the past—"

  "That's an understatement," she says, cutting me off.

  "But I need you to trust me and be patient. Just wait. You'll see what I mean."

  "And how long do you expect me to wait?" CJ asks. Disbelief is still etched across her face, but I sense that she's softening her a bit.

  Not long," I say. "Two weeks. That's all I ask."

  CJ is tapping her foot against the tiled floor, looking at me with an incredulous frown. I can tell she's really struggling with this decision.

  "I promise that everything will be explained at the RAGA convention."

  Her eyes soften and her foot stops tapping.

  "Fine. Two weeks, Aidan," she says, finally deciding to trust me. "That's it, and your plan better work."

  “I love this girl, CJ,” I tell her and she looks at me for a long moment. I don’t hide anything. I’m done fucking hiding. Let her see me for the real me. I’m fine being fucking vulnerable if it means saving Abby. “I’m not gonna fuck this one up.”

  After a long moment, CJ blinks.

  “You’re telling the truth,” she says to me.

  I nod.

  “Well, that girl is hurting, Aidan,” she tells me. “So for both your sakes, I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

  “So do I, darlin’,” I say with a sigh looking towards the distance of the city. “So do I.”

  Abby

  “C’mon, cheer up. Seriously,” Cheryl says, draping one arm over my shoulders and pulling me close to her.

  “I’m totally cheery, can’t you see?” I say with a frown, sighing loudly as we head toward our booth. This is the biggest romance convention in the United States and, since Big Dick was such a hit, we have to be here. And by we, I mean Cheryl and I; since Aidan signed with Bad Boy Publishing, that means he removed himself from the equation.

  I hate being here. It reminds me of everything that happened with Aidan, and I really don’t need that; the wound is still fresh.

  It’s been two weeks since I found out about Aidan’s betrayal, and I’ve been a mess ever since. Do you know what the side effects are of a broken heart? Excessive consumption of vanilla-flavored ice cream, and binge-watching Gilmore Girls and all of those CW romantic dramedies.

  And the worst part? I still haven’t told him I’m pregnant. I mean, he clearly decided to end his professional relationship with me, but the way he did it also meant that he doesn’t give a fuck about me as a woman… or even as a person. After everything we’ve been through, how could he be so cold? I’ve never been so wrong about a man before. You know, after catching Grady fucking that skinny woman, I thought there couldn’t be anything worse. But what Aidan did… That hurt so much more.

  I sit up inside my booth with Cheryl by my side, but after the first few hours even our most loyal fans have deserted us. The convention's main attraction is Aidan’s Huge Cock (how’s that for a pun?), and it seems that’s all people talk about. Not to mention that with Bad Boy Publishing’s money behind him, Aidan secured an entire hall for the launch of his book. How can my tiny booth even compete with that? Seriously, if Cheryl hadn’t dragged me here, there’d be no way I’d willingly show up for this public humiliation. But here I am now, sitting in my cramped booth and feeling completely miserable.

  Since Big Dick was mostly a self-publishing effort, our budget only bought us an ant-sized booth right between two Bad Boy Publishing authors. Swear to God, these people are everywhere. Aside from the fans and the authors, there are a few movie studio head-honchos walking around, trying to sniff out a potential blockbuster hiding in this convention, but even they only seem preoccupied with Aidan’s launch.

  “Hey, it’ll be okay,” C
heryl says out of the blue, reaching for me and laying her hand on top of mine. I look at her, and can’t help but smile. Her words are soft like a breeze, but they’re honest.

  “I don’t know… It’s hard. I won’t give up, no, but all this stuff with Aidan… I just don’t know what to do,” I tell her, unconsciously placing one hand on top of my belly. She smiles as she watches me do it, and then leans into me and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Trust me, sweetie, it’ll be okay.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I ask her, realizing that there’s something she isn’t telling me. “Tell me, Cheryl. You’re hiding something.”

  “Well, I… I didn’t want to worry you, or get your hopes high,” she starts, looking down at the floor while she looks for the right words. “But I talked with CJ, and she told me that things would work out. She seemed pretty sure of it, you know?”

  “Yeah… But should we even trust her? I mean, she’s Aidan’s agent. As far as we know, she was the one that hooked him up with Bad Boy Publishing.”

  “I don’t know, Abby… This must be pretty hard for you, but I have a good feeling about all of this. That’s why I insisted that you come here. That and I didn’t want you to give up on your life, you know?”

  “Thank you,” I reply, squeezing her hand in mine and smiling. Somehow, her words have eased all the anxiety inside my chest. I trust Cheryl; I’d trust her with my life, if push came to shove. Even though I can’t say the same about CJ, Cheryl’s contagious optimism has brightened my mood.

  “Oh, crap!” she cries out suddenly, looking down at her watch. “It’s about to start,” she continues, jumping up to her feet.

  “What?” I ask her, looking at the watch on my cellphone. It’s almost 6 PM, which means that Aidan’s launch is about to start.

  “Fuck!” she yells and pulls me up.

  I go up to my feet fast, shoving my cellphone inside of my purse.

  “Let’s go!” Cheryl yells, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me out of our booth.

  I know, babe. I’m wondering it too.

  Why am I even letting my PA drag me to Aidan’s launch?

  I mean sometimes PA’s can just walk all over you if you let them.

  I’m not sure if I want to be there when Aidan launches Huge Cock, but something inside of me tells me that it’s imperative I’m there. Why? I honestly have no idea; all I know is that I must be there.

  So I let Cheryl drag me to the hall of cock.

  Cheryl and I run through the convention floor, shoving our way across a thick river of people, all of them flowing toward the main hall. By the time we get there, the place is packed; there must be thousands of people crammed inside. Bad Boy Publishing banners hang from the ceiling every ten feet or so, like flags from some mighty empire hell bent on crushing everything and everyone in its way.

  Aidan’s already on the stage, and I feel anger welling up inside of me as I see Grady standing by his side, a shit-eating grin on his face. It’s a good thing I don’t have any kind of super powers, or else Grady would be choking right now. Behind Grady and Aidan, there’s a two story tall banner covered by a huge red curtain, and I’m betting that the curtain is hiding Huge Cock’s cover -- Aidan’s amplified body oozing sexiness.

  “Let’s get this thing going,” Aidan says, grabbing a microphone from the hands of one of the assistants on stage. His voice makes my heart tighten up, and I place both my hands on my belly by instinct, like a lioness protecting its cub.

  Loud music starts coming from the speakers, and that’s when I realize there’s a small orchestra right under the stage, a quartet of strings building up the anticipation with each note they play. Jesus, just how much money is Bad Boy Publishing spending on this book?

  When the music reaches its high point, Aidan walks to the red curtain and tugs on it. It falls over majestically, revealing—just as I thought—Aidan’s shirtless body, amplified in all its glory under the Huge Cock title.

  Sparks start coming off from the edge of the stage, and then the lights go out. Bright spotlights light up the stage, focusing on Aidan and something behind him. There’s another red sheet covering a massive table behind Aidan and, when he pushes on it, he reveals an endless pile of Huge Cock books.

  This doesn’t look like the launch of a book; this look like someone is launching a fucking rocket into outer space. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much fanfare just because of a book. Bad Boy Publishing must be throwing all of its weight under Aidan, which means Huge Cock is going to make a killing. Remember the studio execs I told you about? Yeah, right now they’re standing close to the stage, and they’re so excited that I wouldn’t be surprised if they just ran up to Aidan and forced him to sign a contract right here and now.

  “I’m pleased to announce,” Aidan starts, his amplified voice booming over the excited crowd, “that Huge Cock is finally up for sale! Everyone who pre-ordered, your book is right here behind me, waiting for you.” He waves rather dramatically at the monstrous pile of books behind him, and the stage assistants climb down from the stage and start organizing—or, well, trying to—everyone into neat lines.

  “Don’t worry, there are books for everyone!” Grady says excitedly, snatching a mic out of one of the assistant's hands. He walks over to the edge of the stage, looking down at the eager buyers below him as if he’s some kind of God-King, and then continues. “You can also head to Rainforest.com and buy your digital copy, and then --”

  “Chill the fuck out, bro, I’m not done yet,” Aidan cuts Grady short and, judging by the way his face turns white, I doubt he was counting on that.

  Walking to the edge of the stage and shoving Grady out of the way, Aidan takes the mic to his mouth and looks straight ahead, down into the crowd… And that’s when I realize he’s looking at me.

  “There’s something I want to say as everyone gets their copy,” he tells everyone in the hall, and the seriousness in his voice makes everyone take pause. The crowd goes silent in the blink of an eye, and the silence is so deafening you could hear a pin drop.

  Here we go, I think to myself.

  Abby

  “There’s something I want to say as everyone gets their copy,” I tell the crowd, and I can see the entire hall of people looking up at me.

  That’s right. They’re here for my Huge Cock. After the success of Big Dick it’s no wonder that they’re here. Abby struck gold coming up with this genre.

  And now Bad Boy Publishing is looking to muscle in and blow her out of the water.

  I mean, with their fucking money they’re able to do that. But the genre is so small, that they won’t be able to stay in it forever.

  Just long enough to squeeze out the indie authors who were trying to make a living in it.

  It’s not hard to see why. You just have to look at fucking Grady O’Sullivan and how he fucking looks at Abby to know that that fucker still has a major boner for her.

  Well, he’s got a weird way of showing it, trying to destroy her. But I bet in his fucked up brain it probably makes sense. Punish her for leaving him even though it was him that was the one cheating in the first place.

  Yeah, I did my fucking research before signing on with this Bad Boy Publishing deal. I went back and looked to see everything that had gone on between these two.

  It made what I’m about to say so much fucking easier, let me tell you that.

  Oh, that’s right, you don’t know what I’m about to say, do you?

  Well, all I gotta say, darlin’, is listen close.

  The crowd is staring at me.

  “What I wanted to say is,” I begin as I walk around the stage with the microphone. I can see Grady looking at me with a puzzled expression. This wasn’t part of the script and he’s not sure what’s going on. “Full editorial control is a wonderful fucking thing.”

  That’s probably about the last thing any publisher wants to really hear. But let me continue for you to understand the full scope of what I just said.

&
nbsp; “I made sure that I was given full editorial control for any 11th hour changes, and Bad Boy Publishing was so intent to sign me that they granted me a one-book deal and I want to thank them,” I say, taking a step toward Grady who’s standing frozen on stage and giving him a bow.

  “If they never had given me that deal, I would've never been able to change the dedication when you open up the book to Abby Cleveland, who invented the big cock genre in romance,” I say into the microphone and immediately there’s a stir in the room.

  People are starting to open up the book as they get it. They’re seeing the dedication page.

  “Dedicated to Abby Cleveland, whose book, Big Cock, is the basis for this story. On sale on the Rainforest store at 99c. or FREE with Rainforest Unlimited.”

  Yeah, they’re seeing that and they’re either asking ‘Who’s Abby Cleveland?’ or they’re putting two and two together. But regardless of what they’re doing, they’re going to the store's front page for Big Cock. And they’re one-clicking. Oh, are they one-clicking.

  “Wha-” Grady is saying as he lets the hand holding the microphone drop. He’s trying to piece what’s going on. “What’s going on?”

  I figure I owe this motherfucker an explanation.

  “What’s going on, Grady, is simple,” I tell him as I walk over to him. “Declaring war on an author because she left you for fucking another woman is wrong. And trying to steal her idea and throw money at it to blow her out of the water is even worse. So that’s why, the book you had me write … I made a few changes before it went to press.”

  Grady looks at me like I’ve gone completely fucking crazy. But I continue.

  “The book is a bit of a sequel to Big Dick, but the reader is gonna need to find out what happened there in order to finish reading this,” I tell Grady and he turns white. “It’s got a HEA, but you've got to read Big Dick to be able to understand it. And it has no cheating or cliffhangers, but again, that’s only for the people who read Big Dick. And everywhere on there I make sure people know that to get all of that you need to read Big Dick first,” I say to Grady.