Anaconda: A Sexy Romantic Comedy

by Landish, Lauren

  “I’m perfectly sober.”

  “I—”

  James stood up from his chair, interrupting me, looking tall and imposing. I could definitely see where Tyler got his impressive frame from. James was the type of old man you didn’t want to mess with you. “I want what’s best for my son, Charles. He’s my only heir. This company is just as much his as it is mine. I have to believe that he’ll turn things around, however unlikely that may be.”

  “But you’re making a business decision based on emotion, sir,” I protested. “That’s like the number one no-no in business. You know that even more than I do.”

  “Even so, you have my decision. I can only hope Tyler straightens up and becomes the man that I know him to be.” He looked at me with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Charles. I know you were looking forward to this.”

  “Weak,” I snarled. I knew I was insulting my boss, a very powerful man, but I couldn’t help myself, and my emotions were getting the better of me. “This decision makes you look weak and unfit.”

  “I know very well how it makes me look,” James said tightly, “and if you value your place here at Armex, I suggest you watch what you say right now. I know you’re upset and speaking out of emotion right now, so I’ll forgive you this once, but make no mistake, I will not tolerate any more disrespect.” His eyes bore into me. “Do I make myself clear?”

  I stood there for a long time, overwhelmed by helpless rage.

  “Charles?”

  “Yes,” I grated. “Yes sir, I understand you completely.”

  James nodded his head. “Good. Now go finish that report that you said you would have on my desk by Monday.” He sat down at his desk and began looking over a stack of papers, letting me know our meeting was over.

  Swallowing my pride, I turned and walked out of the office, closing his door a little louder than I should have behind me, vowing that it was time to take matters into my own hands. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

  Chapter 21

  Tyler - Three Months Later

  An irritating beeping sound awoke me with a start. I laid there for a while, trying to ignore it before I went searching for the annoying offender.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growled. The sounds literally felt like they were skull-fucking me, sending sharp slashes of pain through my temples.

  Rolling over in bed, moaning and groaning, I blindly ran my fingers over my night stand until I hit the alarm clock button, narrowly missing knocking over a half empty bottle of vodka.

  “Fuck, my head hurts,” I groaned, clutching at my temples.

  I felt like complete shit, but that was to be expected.

  I’d spent another night out, drinking and partying at the hottest clubs the city’s night life had to offer, attempting to drown away my unhappiness. I hadn’t been in this much of a slump since Candice . . .

  Speaking of Candice, since leaving my apartment the night she unceremoniously showed up, Victoria had refused to return any of my calls.

  For three months straight.

  I’d left her more messages than I could count, messages that I’d be ashamed of under ordinary circumstances. Messages where I’d poured my heart out and tried to explain my situation and what actually happened.

  It didn’t work. She was as stubborn as me sometimes, and maybe that’s why I liked her so much.

  I'd even tried to track her down at work, but I never seemed to be able to catch her. She either wasn't there or someone would tell me she was too busy running errands for Christine. I figured it was probably bullshit, but I wasn’t going to push it and get her in trouble, making everything worse.

  Her coworker, April, appeared to take a special glee in turning me away. She always had this huge smile on her face, pissing me off even more. She knew it too. I could tell.

  Finally, I’d given up on making myself look pathetic. I got very angry at Victoria, even told myself that I didn’t need her. That I was better than her. After all, I was a rich CFO with my whole life ahead of me, standing to be the sole beneficiary to an empire. There wasn't a girl on the planet that wouldn't want to be with me.

  Except one. The one I wanted.

  She needed me. I didn't need her, I told myself. She’d regret her decision for the rest of her life. I just knew it.

  Distraught, I turned to alcohol to numb the pain of our break up. I felt weak for doing it, but I could find no other respite.

  Sure, I could've gone out and had revenge sex with every willing slut that I could find. After all, isn't that what Victoria thought of me? A manwhore who couldn’t keep his big dick in his pants?

  Maybe I was once that man, but strangely enough, those things no longer interested me. I wanted one thing and one thing only.

  Victoria.

  My phone beeped, drawing me out of my reverie.

  Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I grabbed it off the night stand, this time knocking over the bottle of Vodka.

  I’ll just have Jonathan clean it up, I thought as the smell of alcohol hit my nostrils.

  It took several seconds for my fuzzy mind to read the reminder I’d set on my phone.

  ARMEX meeting today.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  * * *

  “You looked like shit today in the meeting,” Jeff hissed. “What is wrong with you?”

  Me and my fellow colleague were sitting in my office after a nearly disastrous meeting where I’d been unable to read my report without stumbling over my words. It’d gotten so bad that my dad had to step in to save me from further embarrassing myself.

  He hadn't looked too happy about that. In fact, he looked like he wanted to choke me with his bare hands. I knew that we were going to have words later, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  I was barely holding it together as it was.

  I lowered my head to my desk and groaned. “Don't you have something better to do? I don't want to hear this shit."

  "Well, you're going to hear it, because I've never seen you act so disgusting inside that room before. And the only reason why you're still sitting in that chair and not out looking for a job is because of your father.”

  I looked up, then winced a second later as my temples pounded. The four Tylenol I'd taken before the meeting had done little to alleviate my misery. "That's not true," I croaked. "I'm here because I'm valuable.”

  Jeff snorted. "Listen to yourself, Tyler! Get a grip and come back to planet Earth. It’s time to stop disrespecting your father and this company!"

  Anger surged through me. "Who the fuck are you to judge me, huh?" I snarled, immediately regretting it as a sharp pain sliced through my skull. Seriously, it felt like someone took an axe and brought it down on the top of my head with all the force they could muster. "You have no fucking idea what I'm going through."

  Jeff let out a peal of derisive laughter. "Oh, poor little baby and his first world problems. Did the latest slut decline letting you bang her brains out and your little ego is bruised?"

  Seriously, the only thing keeping Jeff from being thrown through my window and falling sixty stories was the lancing pain in my skull.

  "Get over it," Jeff continued, unaware how lucky he was to be alive. He stood, straightening his tie at his neck. "You're a disgrace."

  He turned and walked out of my office, slamming the door behind him. The sound of it made my head hurt even worse.

  Asshole.

  Despite my anger at Jeff, deep down I knew he was speaking the truth. I had to get my shit together.

  Fast.

  Chapter 22

  Tyler

  "Victoria is busy," April said to me. She gave me that ha-ha asshole, you'll never talk to her again smirk. "But I can give her a message if you'd like?"

  After a couple of days of torment, I'd stopped the drinking, cleaned myself up, and decided on a new course of action.

  I'd driven myself—something I almost never do—over to Victoria's workplace. When I asked the receptionist on the first floor to ring me in to
Victoria's work phone, April had appeared instead to take a message.

  I swear the girl had become Victoria's bodyguard, appearing out of the woodwork whenever I showed up, intent on making sure that I didn't get anywhere near her.

  I eyed her with a cool grin on my face, not letting her think she was getting to me. Not even that long ago, I'd have been eager to wipe that smirk off of the little tart’s face . . . and I’m not talking about with my hand or with violence.

  “She needs to hear something directly from me, not from a message. If she doesn’t want to speak to me again after that, I’ll never bother her again.”

  April stared at me suspiciously and I adopted my most serious expression. “Really. She’s going to want to hear this, trust me.”

  April stood there for the longest time, looking like a battle was going on inside of her head. Finally, she let out a huge sigh. "I'll go find her and see what she says.” She turned away, but stopped to add, "On one condition."

  "Anything."

  "You never come here again."

  If I get to talk to her, I won’t need to come here again, I thought.

  "Scout's honor," I assured, putting up the little hand signal.

  April scowled at me, looking as if she was going to change her mind. I kept my expression straight and serious.

  "Okay," she finally said. "Don't make me regret this or you'll be sorry."

  "I won't," I promised.

  She still looked skeptical. "Wait here and I'll be right back."

  I spent the better of twenty minutes standing around at the receptionist’s desk, looking like a dumbass waiting for April to come back. The receptionist, Kathy, a middle-aged woman with graying hair, kept me entertained, telling me all about her daughter and her recent engagement. She seemed to be that type of person who’d talk to just about anyone and tell them her life story.

  "She’s so happy," Kathy was saying to me after just showing me her daughter, a little blonde with a humble next-door type appearance. "She got herself a good fella—handsome too, just like yourself.” She beamed at me.

  “Oh you're so kind," I said, trying to sound at least a little interested in the conversation. “Truth be told, there's nothing special about my looks."

  “Handsome and modest, a good combination,” Kathy said, placing the back of her hand to the side of her mouth and lowering her voice to a conspirator whisper, “You’d be quite the catch.”

  “Modest, huh?” I chuckled. “Now that’s something I haven’t heard before.”

  At that moment, April reappeared, walking up the hallway toward me. The look on her face told me everything.

  "Sorry, I have to go," I said, not sparing Kathy another glance. "It was nice meeting you, Kathy." I walked off briskly before the she could reply, making it to April in several quick strides.

  "Well?" I demanded, trying to keep myself calm and collected.

  April stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, purposefully drawing the moment out.

  Finally, she said, “Against my better judgment, Victoria’s willing to talk to you.”

  * * *

  I tapped my fingers impatiently against the wooden armrest of my chair. This was so not me, being forced to wait to be seen. Usually it was the other way around. April had led me to a waiting room on the top floor of the building. It had a pretty nice view, but nothing like what I enjoyed at my office.

  The problem was that, while nice and all, Christine's building wasn't high enough to see over all the other surrounding buildings, so all you saw were other buildings blocking out the view.

  I turned my eyes away from the outside, my thoughts going inward. I wondered what had been going on with Victoria all this time. Had she thought about me? Would she forgive me? I didn't know the answers to these questions, but that’s what I intended to find out.

  I was going to do my best to win her back. I already knew how I was going to prove to her that what she saw with Candice wasn’t what it looked like.

  All I needed was the chance . . . and I could set things right.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the door cracked open and I quickly sprang to my feet like a jack-in-the-box. My heart began to pound in my chest in an annoying fashion as I waited for the door to open fully. I waited, holding my breath, preparing myself for what I had to say.

  Don't screw this up, Ty.

  The door open and in walked . . . What the fuck?

  Christine Finnerman.

  She was dressed like the frigid ice queen that she was, in a form-fitting white dress with a matching white belt at her waist, frosted pumps, her silver hair done up into an elegant style. A sparkling necklace adorned her neck, which was tight and firm for a woman of her age.

  Though I’d never met Victoria's boss, I knew how she looked because of the billboards that had her evil mug plastered on them all over city.

  All in all, I'd say she was one of the state’s most powerful women. Her name commanded respect.

  "What's going on here?" I asked in confusion as Christine slowly closed the door behind her. I looked over her shoulder, somehow hoping Victoria had followed in behind her. "Where's Victoria?"

  Christine's gaze centered on me like a hawk, her eyes blazing with hatred.

  I’m usually a guy that can't be ruffled, but this woman made me hot under the collar . . . and not in a good way. I swore if she kept looking at me like that, I'd catch on fire.

  "She's not coming," she said crisply, her voice as cold and frigid as she looked. "You'd do well to forget all about her."

  I stood my ground. "What do you mean she's not coming? She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. You’re not her mother. Is this another one of your attempts to make her life a living hell?”

  "I’m just her employer, something you forgot when you filled her little head with that startup nonsense.” She grinned tightly. "Fortunately for her, I saw right through what was happening and chose to give her mercy by keeping her employed here."

  "Please," I scoffed. "Being tortured working under you is what you call mercy? Give me a break!"

  I expected a hot retort. Instead, Christine began to circle me. “In a way, I'm the only mother she's got."

  I laughed in disbelief. "You're unbelievable. And I thought I was full of myself.”

  Christine looked at me as if waiting for me to say something else. When I didn’t, she spoke up.

  “You know, when I saw Victoria standing in front of me that first day, interviewing for a position as one of my assistants, I saw a girl who was vulnerable, lost. I saw a girl who needed guidance. I thought, she reminds me of me when I was younger. I took her under my wing, Mr. Locklin, because I had a gut feeling that Victoria had a future ahead of her, a career that will never be allowed to flourish with you underfoot."

  "Nice story," I said sarcastically, "but what a load of bullshit! Victoria has told everyone who will listen about how horrible and awful you treat her. And now you want to act like you’re her fairy godmother?!"

  "Ah, yes," Christine said, "big, bad, evil Christine, treating her girls like they're red-headed stepchildren." She clasped a hand to her cheek. "Whatever shall they do?" She circled me again, stopping directly in front of me. This time, her gaze softened as she looked me in the eyes. "We live in a cruel world, Mr. Locklin, as I'm sure you know, working in the corporate world and all, and there is nothing crueler than to work in the cut-throat world of fashion. What these girls think is mean, is actually me preparing them for the viciousness that awaits them. I do it and I make no apologies about it either, because if Victoria doesn’t crack under the pressure, she’ll appreciate it later. If she does, then this business just wasn’t for her.”

  "That was a nice little speech," I growled, doing a quick golf clap that was meant to annoy her. “You almost convinced me with that one. Now let me see Victoria."

  Christine's face hardened into stone. "Victoria is busy, Mr. Locklin. Besides, you'd be better off focusing on helping your father's comp
any maintain its portfolio rather than wasting your time on Victoria. Now please, I’m going to need you to leave my building.”

  Ignoring the last bit, I said “You’re not accomplishing anything. You can't keep me from seeing her."

  Christine produced a cellphone out of the side of her dress in one quick, elegant flourish, brandishing it in front of my face as if it were a weapon. “Of course I can’t. But I can have you escorted out of the building. Which I'll be forced to do if you don't leave within ten seconds." She stared at me with challenge. I could see in her eyes that she wanted me to defy her.

  I stood there for a second, wondering if I should call her bluff.

  "Fine," I said, hating myself for giving up, but not wanting to give the condescending woman the pleasure of having me removed from her building. "I'm leaving.”

  Victoria

  I let out a sigh, sweat beading my forehead. When I'd gotten the message from April that Tyler was here, I almost lost my will, tempted to go down to talk to him. Right when I was about to go down, Christine intervened, saying that she'd handle it and if I wanted to see him, I’d have to do it on my own time.

  While there was the normal bossiness in her voice, it almost sounded like she said it as I got your back. I was shocked, but at the same time, I was probably just imagining it. Christine never did anything for anyone, though she had seemed to lighten up a little over the last couple of months.

  "What did he say?" I asked with trepidation, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

  Ignoring him was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I’d managed. All I had to do was think of what I’d seen, and it gave me the will and the resolve to hold steady.

  Today was the first time that the image didn't produce the strength needed to resist the urge to give him a chance to explain.

  "He was determined to see you," Christine replied. "I told him that you were busy, which you are. Victoria, I don’t need this kind of thing happening here. I know you can’t control him, but I need you to try to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”