Blazing Hot Spring

by Fiona Starr

  I watch him leave and an unfamiliar feeling washes over me. It’s relief and regret.

  The attorney has stopped talking. “Miss Blaze?”

  I blink and turn to him. “I’m sorry?”

  “Do you have a list of the media outlets where you’ll run your pieces?”

  “Oh. Yes. Right here.” I flip through my folio and slide a copy of the media buy across the table to him.

  He slips the paper into his folder and stands. “Okay then. I guess that covers everything. I’ll show you to your office.”

  They’ve made an office available for me down the hall from Monty’s corner office and directly across from his General Counsel. His attorney leads me there and leaves me at the door. I move around the desk and slide into the leather chair, my thoughts on Montgomery Ford and his behavior during the meeting swirling around my head.

  If he is going to be standoffish and difficult, then there’s no reason for me to be here. I can write the pieces with information I gather online. But if they want me to wow the investing world and the public with the man that Montgomery Ford is, then I’m going to need more access.

  The phone on my desk buzzes and a voice comes through the speaker. “Miss Blaze?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is James, Mr. Ford’s assistant? Mr. Ford would like to see you in his office.”

  I stare at the phone as the intercom light goes out. Did he just summon me?

  Fine. He needs to be in control. He needs to display his power. If that is the way he’s going to play this, then I can play it too.

  MONTGOMERY

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “Yes?”

  James leans in. “Miss Blaze for you, sir.”

  “Thank you James, please see to it that we are not disturbed.”

  He nods once. “Of course, sir.”

  I’m standing behind my desk when she enters the room. The muscles in her calves are accentuated with every step in her black stiletto heels. Her knee-length skirt swishes as she moves. She walks across my office toward my desk and stands there, watching me.

  I have spent the last few minutes since leaving the meeting rehearsing different things I want to say. I need to stay cool. I need her to understand. I can’t let my guard down.

  When I don’t say anything, she crosses her arms and opens her mouth as if she is going to say something. Then she runs her tongue over her red lips absently and sends my blood racing.

  I step around the desk. I can’t continue like this.

  “Monty, look. I—”

  “I can’t take it.” I am there in a flash. I run my hands through her hair and pull her to me, taking her mouth in mine. She exhales a moan and accepts me, invites me in with her tongue. When she pulls away, I look into her eyes. She looks confused.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” I whisper.

  “I thought you were angry with me.”

  I shake my head and try to make her see. The way she makes me feel… I didn’t think it was possible. I nip at her lower lip and caress her arm under the fabric of her blouse.

  “I don’t understand,” she murmurs.

  I shake my head. “Not angry.” I plunge into her mouth again and step backward, pulling her with me so I can lean against my desk.

  She stands between my legs, her hands on my chest, her body inches from mine. She wears a light perfume. It brings only a hint of something floral at her neck. I find myself seeking it, kissing my way over her delicate skin, hoping for another sweet hit.

  She moves her hands down my abdomen and finds my erection. I am straining against my pants. She opens my belt pulls down my zipper and reaches inside my shorts. Her hand is warm around my cock.

  “Oh, Nina.” I can’t stand another moment.

  We become a mass of hands and fingers and frantic movement, racing to take each other’s clothes off without breaking contact. I am naked in front of her, my cock standing at attention. She’s runs her fingers over my chest and then steps around and continues along my back. It’s like she’s assessing the merchandise.

  “Do you like what you see?” I ask.

  “Very much.” Her words are whispered against my neck.

  She moves around to face me. “I want you, Mr. Ford. I want you like I have never wanted anyone or anything in my life. But I won’t be played with.”

  “I would never…”

  She touches my mouth, quieting me. “I am here to do a job. A job for you, I might add. And if we’re going to do this…” she runs her fingers over the length of my shaft, “…and work together, I have a few conditions.”

  I swallow, watching her circle me. “Conditions?”

  She bites my earlobe and breathes into my ear. “Non-negotiable conditions.”

  I catch a hint of her perfume again and it makes me want to press my face into her hair. “What are your conditions?”

  “There are only two.” She gets on her knees in front of me and takes me into her mouth. Her red lips form a seal around me as she sucks on my cock.

  I grab her hair, moving with her as she glides over me slowly, teasing me with her tongue. “Conditions. Name them.”

  She pumps once more over my cock and pulls away. “One. Do not play with me.” She slides her hand between my legs and cups my balls, squeezing gently. “If you wish to explore whatever this is that we’re doing, I am more than willing, but this angry brooding thing you’re doing ends here. Today.”

  I nod quickly. “I promise to try.”

  “Good.” She licks the head of my penis and sucks the head for a moment before pulling back and looking up at me again. “Two. You need to let me in. Just a little. I can’t be effective for you if you continue putting up a wall whenever you don’t want to talk. It won’t work. Not with me.”

  I exhale. I know she’s right, but damn it. “Again, I can only promise to try.”

  She rises to her feet and stands in front of me, her eyes locked on mine, my cock in her hand. “I lied. I have a third condition.” She dips her tongue into my mouth quickly and we kiss.

  “Anything.”

  “Montgomery Ford, I need you to fuck me like your life depends upon it.”

  “As you wish,” I say. Because I fear it might actually be true.

  Chapter Seven

  NINA

  It’s been a week since meeting Montgomery on his jet and I don’t think I can continue. He isn’t living up to his agreement completely. We meet regularly, mostly in the office, but sometimes at his penthouse apartment in midtown, and once on his yacht.

  The brooding is mostly under control, at least when it comes to his conversations with me, but as soon as my questions delve into his past or the reasons why he is so passionate about the work Platinum Industries is doing, he shuts down, and gets angry, lashes out.

  I’ve reached out to an old friend of my mentor’s. Tommy Rollins has been in the PR and celebrity business since before I was born. I met with him yesterday at a bar uptown to see if he’d be interested in taking over for me if it came to that. Over drinks I kind of explained the situation without telling him who I was working for.

  I hope it doesn’t come to that.

  But if something doesn’t change and fast, then I need to quit. It isn’t right for me to stay on simply so we can continue our sexual escapades across the city. It would be easier to do that if I weren’t working for him.

  It’s only been a week and everything has changed. He’s more than a client to me and I no longer have the distance I need to produce the image pieces his board needs—not if he won’t open up.

  I wait until the office closes and I know he’s still here. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of his staff. I walk to his office and I tap a knuckle on his door.

  “Come.” His voice is soft through the door.

  I step into his office. He looks up from his desk and smiles. “Nina.”

  He says my name as if he’s surprised to see me every single time.

  I wa
lk over to his desk and sit in one of the leather chairs facing him. “I need to talk to you.”

  He puts his pen down and folds his hands in his lap. “All right. This feels serious.”

  I can see the hint of a scowl threatening to overtake him and I just smile and shake my head. “I can’t help you with this PR project.”

  That definitely surprises him. “What? Why?”

  “Because you won’t talk to me. I know there’s more going on inside that head than you’re willing to share. I need you to trust me.”

  I can see him pull back, his eyes narrow ever so slightly and he has his guard up. I move around the desk to be closer to him, so I can touch him. I take his hand.

  “Monty, I can see you are winding up to lash out at me.” I kneel down on the carpet next to his chair. “Don’t do it. Listen to me. It’s a defense mechanism, you’re doing it to protect yourself.”

  He looks away.

  I tug on his hand. “No, come back. Look at me.”

  I wait for him to meet my gaze. “I love you, Monty Ford. God help me, but that is the truth. We have something incredible going on between us that has nothing at all to do with my job.”

  He squeezes my hand and inhales deeply. He is uncomfortable but he fights it.

  I smile. “I am asking you to trust me. I am not here to hurt you. Something you’re carrying is eating you alive. Just let me in.”

  He swallows hard and his gaze burns into me. “You love me?”

  I nod. “I love you. And that will be true whether I stay on this job or not.”

  He shakes his head. “Nina, forgive me. This is very difficult for me.”

  “It’s all right.”

  MONTGOMERY

  I’ve never shared anything about Mariel with anyone, and never expected to do so. But Nina’s right. I can’t carry on like this. We’re at an impasse unless I break down my own wall.

  If she loves me then it won’t matter. She’ll understand.

  “I don’t know how to talk about this.” I close my eyes and search my heart for strength.

  She taps my hand. “You’re fine. Just start at the beginning.”

  “Her name was Mariel.” Once I start talking, I can’t stop.

  I tell Nina everything. How in love we were, how we planned to get married and start a family. How I proposed and then she fell pregnant.

  “That’s when the headaches and the vertigo began.” I rub my face, trying to push away the horror of the memories of those early days.

  “At first they thought it was a side-effect of the pregnancy, something called hyper-emesis that can be very serious but is manageable if she responds to meds. They put her on bed rest and told her take it easy to keep the nausea and disorientation away.”

  Nina sits up on the edge of the desk next to me and listens patiently. I feel like I am having an out-of-body experience. What if she thinks I am less of a man for being so weak? What if I lose control and cry in front of her? What if she doesn’t really love me, and she’s only saying it to get close to me?

  I push all thoughts aside. “Mariel’s headaches got more intense on the meds. When she got so violently ill that she lost consciousness, I carried her into the ER. They admitted into the ICU. She’d suffered a subarachnoid hemorrhage; an aneurysm had ruptured, causing bleeding in the space surrounding her brain. Tests revealed three more aneurysms that needed to be repaired surgically.” The story tumbles out of me.

  “We were relieved to have an answer. She couldn’t wait to have the surgery. They prepped her immediately and our families flew in to be there.” I stop and swallow. I have to concentrate to keep my voice steady.

  “She died on the table. The device the surgeon used malfunctioned and a microscopic piece of metal flaked off the instrument and tore through the vessels they were trying to repair. The damage was massive. There was nothing they could do.”

  Nina wipes tears from her cheeks. “Oh Monty, I am so sorry.”

  I close my eyes and turn away. Nina grabs my hands. “No. Don’t stuff it all back inside. Why are you so afraid to share this?”

  “I am not afraid.”

  She sighs and her smile is sad. “Remember when I told you that passion is a sign of strength?”

  I nod and weave my fingers around hers. “Yeah.”

  “Well, when you want to steer the conversation away from your past—your personal life, you get angry.”

  “Yeah. I am not proud of that.”

  “Anger is a mask for fear. I don’t think you’re afraid to tell people about Mariel. Your passion for this cause—it is the reason Platinum Industries exists. It’s why you are forging ahead to make changes with these surgeries. Sharing that part of your reason with the world would be easy. They’d understand and they’d get behind you.”

  “I can’t do it. I don’t want to talk about this with the world.”

  “But why? What will happen if you did?”

  “I’d fall apart. I’d appear weak. My company would be reduced to a pathetic hopeless cause. There’s Montgomery Ford, chasing a ghost; have pity. Nobody respects a crazy man. Nobody respects weakness.”

  “It isn’t weakness if it drives you. Look at what you’ve already accomplished. Your devices are revolutionizing brain surgery. You’re saving lives. There is nothing about what you’re doing that’s weak.”

  “I can’t do it, Nina. I won’t.”

  She crosses her arms. “Then let me.”

  Chapter Eight

  NINA

  On Wednesday of the following week, I arrive at Platinum’s office and the General Counsel is waiting at my door. “Hey Adam.”

  He’s all business. “Nina, could you come to the conference room, please?”

  “Sure.” I ignore the tug of worry as I drop my bag on the desk and follow him down the hall. When I enter the conference room, Monty is sitting at the head of the table with a folder in front of him. He is not happy, but his familiar scowl is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face is a mask of absolute fury.

  Something is definitely wrong. “Monty? What’s going on? Adam? Has something happened.”

  Monty doesn’t respond, but lets his attorney take over. “Take a seat, Nina.”

  I take a seat across from Monty and wait.

  Adam slides the folder over to me. “Take a look at that.”

  I open the folder and find a set of 8”x10” color glossy photos showing me and Tommy Rollins having drinks and talking. The pictures look like they were taken on a cell phone.

  I look up at Monty and then Adam and shrug. “This is me and my friend Tommy Rollins. I met him for drinks last week.”

  “Would you mind explaining what you were talking about with the guy who is practically on the payroll for the National Tattler?”

  Monty looks up at the ceiling as if he wants to shout.

  I stare at Monty and then turn to Adam as realization washes over me. “Wait. I wasn’t… You think I was giving him dirt?”

  Adam rolls his eyes. “Tommy Rollins is a dirt peddler. That’s all he does, Nina. What else is he good for?”

  “That isn’t fair. I’ve known him for years. I met with him to talk about a project.”

  “A project where he sells your tell-all to that rag he works for?”

  “He doesn’t work for them. He’s freelance.” I can’t tell them I was meeting with him to take over my work here. Not now. They have already decided, and they won’t believe me if I did. “He’s a friend. I trust him.”

  Monty lunges toward me, hands on the table, his face contorted with rage. “I trusted you.” He hisses the words at me.

  I blink and sit back in my chair, stunned. I can’t believe this is happening.

  Adam slides a piece of paper across the table. “This is a letter ending our contract with you. Effective immediately, you’ll pull any pieces you’ve submitted for publication and send everything to us. You will cease any work on behalf of Platinum Industries or Montgomery Ford. You will not be paid for the time you�
�ve been here as it was done under false pretenses.”

  I pick up the paper and try to read it but the words blur as my eyes well up with tears.

  “It’s too late to pull the plug on all of them. The piece in Timesweek and the one in American Man have already gone to print.”

  Monty lets out a breath as if I’ve punched him. He looks at me with such sadness in his eyes. “I can’t believe you would do this to me.”

  “I haven’t done anything. You’re wrong about my meeting with Tommy. And you’re wrong about me.”

  Adam scoops the photos up and slides them back into the folder. “You can go now. Leave your key card on your desk. It’s been deactivated.”

  I let the conference room door close behind me and hurry down the hall to pick up my things. I feel like the world has been pulled out from under me. This doesn’t make sense. How can someone be so unwilling to trust anyone? How could Monty think anything I have said and done in the two weeks since we’ve met was anything but real?

  Christ, I told him I loved him. Now he thinks it was all a lie.

  Chapter Nine

  ONE WEEK LATER

  MONTY

  I haven’t shaved in a week. I’m sitting in my office in jeans and a tee-shirt waiting for the bomb that used to be my career to go off. Today, Timesweek Magazine—the first of the two glossy magazines featuring the tell-all slash piece Nina published hits newsstands.

  James has been standing next to the corner newsstand since four in the morning, waiting for the delivery to land.

  I’m on my third cup of coffee when he appears at my door.

  “Well?” I ask as he drops three copies of the magazine on my desk. “Have you read any of it? How bad is it?”

  “If you’re talking about the piece in the magazine, I don’t think I’d use the word bad. I think something more along the lines of magnificent or transcendent might be more fitting.” James takes my coffee mug from my hands and walks to the door. “If you’re talking about how badly you and your overprotective bestie Adam screwed up with Nina Blaze, I’d say you’re treading into the territory of disastrous or maybe even catastrophic.” He shakes his head as he closes the door. “I’ll get you more coffee right away, sir.”