Unleash Me, Vol. 2 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series)

by Ross, Christina

  “They’re Jennifer’s.”

  “I don’t care who they belong to. You wore them on purpose. You wore them for me—I know you did! And I love you for it. You look like a rising young author ready to take the world by the balls.”

  She extricated herself from me and then appraised me. “I’m sorry about last night. Mostly for the first part, and obviously for what happened later with your ex. But we’ll deal with each soon.” She kissed me on the cheek, took a seat behind her desk, and lifted an eyebrow at me when I sat down. “If Jennifer had your fashion sense, I wouldn’t be aging as quickly as I am now.”

  “Oh, please. You look the same as when I first met you.”

  Blackwell held out a pointed finger at me. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Not now. Not ever.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Then explain this teeny line next to my right eye.” She pointed to it. “This one. This one right here.”

  “You expect me to even see that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Well, I can’t.”

  “Then we need to get you to a doctor and get you real glasses. Bifocals. I can’t have a blind author under my watch.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  When she leaned forward, I could see by the expression on her face that all joking between us had just ended. “We don’t have much time.”

  “For what?”

  She didn’t say. Instead, she plunged forward. “In your own words, tell me exactly what transpired between you and Boss last night. Before anything happens, I need to hear it from you first.”

  Before anything happens…? “What’s going to happen?”

  “Don’t be naïve—we both know. Now, be quick. Spill it. We have only ten minutes.”

  I told her everything.

  “So, he really did do that to you,” she said. “At first, I couldn’t believe it. How was he with Julian West?”

  “He was fine until I broke the news that the book West wanted to buy was going through a total rewrite. And then Julian went off on him. When Boss challenged him, West just threw up his hands and walked away. He was willing to offer seven figures for that option. I think he’d still pay that price, but what he made very clear to both of us was that he’d only do so if the book that was published remained in its original form—not the version that Boss was proposing.”

  “Did Boss do anything when West left?”

  “He laced into me. He accused me of throwing him under the bus, which is bullshit.”

  “Why did he say that?”

  “Because I refuse lie to anyone, Barbara. Julian was excited about my book and yet Boss was making a conscious effort to tell him nothing about the changes that were coming its way. I felt that he deserved to know about all of them. I’m sorry if that might have cost us a movie deal, but I won’t tolerate lies of omission. That’s just who I am.”

  “You did the right thing,” she said. “Through Alex, I know West. Because of your honesty, I think we still have a good chance of getting the deal.”

  “But how? I’m under contract to deliver the book that Boss wants. But I can tell you this—after West’s rant, I know it’s not the book that he wants either.”

  “We don’t have to worry about that any longer.”

  “Of course we do. I’m under contract.”

  She picked up her phone, and before dialing, said, “To a certain degree you are. But in this case, with another editor. One with a fresh vision. One with a vision that shares yours.”

  I heard someone speak into the phone, and Blackwell’s eyebrows perked up. “Margaret,” she said. “Is Boss standing outside? Yes? Is he looking surly? Long-faced? Angry? Bewildered? All of that? Oh, good. And we have security on hand? Are they right outside? Is Cutter part of the detail? Divoon. I’m ready for a fight. And if I know this son of a bitch, I’m going to need Cutter and whoever else is with him to stand right behind Boss. So, please bring him in. I can’t wait to see how this goes down.”

  She hung up the phone.

  “You’re going to fire him in front of me?” I said.

  “What do you think?”

  “Shouldn’t I leave?”

  “And miss the show? Come on, Lisa. You write about guts on a daily basis. Now show me that you have some of your own.”

  And with that, the door opened and Boss appeared. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a white button-front shirt, and a blue tie. I’d never seen him in glasses, but he was wearing them now—black, narrow, sleek. His arms were crossed over his massive chest. He glanced down at me with open hostility, and then looked squarely at Blackwell.

  A beat passed between them in which nothing was said.

  And then everything took a turn for the worst.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Marco,” Blackwell said. “So good of you to join us. Would you like a cocktail? Perhaps a martini? I hear you enjoy your share of them when you’re on Wenn’s clock.”

  “Really, Barbara? You’re starting there? I believe I’ve seen you throw back a few of your own back in the day.”

  “True—you have. But never to the point that I lost business over it. Or that I couldn’t handle what I drank—I don’t do sloppy. Never have. Never will. Not my style. For that matter, I also never would physically threaten another person because I have anger management issues that apparently can’t be managed. That’s something you’ll never pin on me, Marco. But after last night? I can pin all of it on you.” She leaned back in her seat. “Unless, of course, you’d like to deny any of it.”

  “How about if we just deal with the facts of what happened last night?”

  “Oh, the facts,” she said with a haughty glance tossed over at me. “We’re about to hear the facts, Lisa—can you imagine? I, for one, can’t wait to hear them….”

  “First, no business was lost due to me. If Julian West doesn’t come around with an option for Ward’s book, you can blame it on her. West was about to agree to option the book when this one opened her mouth and blew it. Second, I also don’t do sloppy. You suggested that I was drunk—I’m here to tell you that I wasn’t, and if you think I was, please do us all a favor and prove it. Third, I never physically threatened anyone. You’ve known me for years, Barbara. Where in the hell did that even come from?”

  And that was it for me. I glared up at him.

  “Are you seriously going to stand there and lie in front of me?” I asked.

  “The only one lying here is you, lady.”

  I stood up and confronted him. Nobody called me a liar—ever. I might not be as big as he was, but my fury was larger, and in a way, that put us on an equal level. I noticed Cutter and another man stepping closer to us, and I regretted it. I wanted to tell Boss off on my own without feeling as if I needed backup. But that was their jobs. I got it. So, I sucked it up.

  “Let’s cut to it, cookie,” I said. “I called the police on you last night for good reason. There are records of that reason. You slapped my clutch out of my hand and I felt threatened by you when you did it. You’re three times my size, for God’s sake—what would you have done next? Strike me?”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “I don’t know you, Marco. I don’t know what you’re capable of beyond what I’ve observed. And after last night, what I do know about you is that you are capable of some kind of violence.”

  He moved to speak, but I held up a finger, and cut him short. “Don’t lie. Don’t do it. Right now, the truth about what you did is written all over your face, which some cultures would suggest you need to save right now. We both know that you did it. I reported it to the police. It’s on record. So is this—you don’t do sloppy well, Marco. Before you lashed out at me for not agreeing to get into your damned limousine, you were wavering on the sidewalk. You were angry and unfocused. You looked enraged and out of it. At that moment, those three martinis were hitting you hard and having their way with you. You were drunk.”

  “I never had three martinis, Lisa.”
<
br />   “Oh, please—another lie. So, how about this, Marco? Because of your size and your looks, you’re a difficult man to forget. I wonder what we’d hear if we asked Julian’s bartender if he remembers serving you those martinis last night. I think there’s a solid chance that he would remember, especially since you kept ordering them back-to-back. Do you want to take that chance? We can certainly set up a meeting and see what the man says. But we already know what he’ll say, don’t we? Your lies would catch up with you. You’d lose. And you’d look even more ridiculous than you do now.”

  “Oh, my,” Blackwell said with enthusiasm. “No amateur, she.” She reached beside her for a glass that was filled with ice, popped a cube into her mouth, and bit down hard on it with a crackling crunch. “Ice is my popcorn, and this is the main event. Please, Lisa, do go on. If nothing else, this is, after all, a festive takedown.”

  I turned to Boss. “Finally, you also lied to Julian West, as he’ll attest. You tried to sell my book to him without even once mentioning that you were radically changing it. I don’t lie. I felt that West deserved to know the truth, even if it meant I’d be losing a seven-figure option. Money doesn’t matter that much to me, Marco. Being an honest person does, which probably is making that thick head of yours spin right now. When he learned what you had planned for the book was when he went off on you. And since he’s friends with Alex, I think Julian would be happy to recount how that little exchange between you two went down. I recall that is was as ugly as it was cutting, but maybe you were too drunk to remember. I have to wonder. But if there’s a liar in this room, I can assure you that it’s not me. It’s you.”

  “Well,” Blackwell said with a clap of her hands. “That was epic.”

  “Whatever,” Boss said. “She can’t prove any of it.”

  “Actually, I believe that she just mapped out how she can prove all of it. Not that it really matters, Marco. Lisa was so upset at the end of the night, she told everything to her boyfriend, Tank. She was furious. Everything was so fresh when she told him that it came out in a torrent. What she just said to you now matches exactly what she said to Tank, whom I’ve spoken with. No liars on this end. I’ve also spoken to Alex to get his take on the situation, and a moment ago, I asked Lisa to tell everything to me as she remembered it. All of what I’ve heard is the same, and I’m afraid none of it is good for you, darling. Alex told me to make my best assessment of the situation, and I have. You’re done, Boss. Kaput. Finished. Capiche?”

  “You’re firing me?”

  Her eyes widened. “You make it sound so final,” she said with her hand placed on her chest. “You make it sound as if I’ve just killed a career.” And then, with a suddenness that surprised me, she dropped her fist onto her desk, leaned forward in her seat, and nodded at him “We are firing you. Nobody behaves as you did and gets away with it here. Today is your last day at Wenn.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Are you deaf? Or just dumb?” She rolled her eyes. “At this point, I can’t tell—and I don’t really care. If you haven’t heard every reason why your ass is being served to you right now, I suggest that you get an interpreter and meet us here later this afternoon. Say, threeish? We’ll recount everything you’ve done so you can properly understand it. After all, Wenn believes in 508-compliance.”

  “You’ve got no proof, Blackwell.”

  “So, now I’m Blackwell and not Barbara? How quickly things change. How fast that core of yours grows so icy blue.”

  “You’ve set me up.”

  “Please tell me how. Have you and I ever met like this before? Never. This is about your job performance and your bullying behavior, which none of us will tolerate. If you get on your high horse and drag us into court, they’ll find no hidden agendas between us. And then they’ll take everything else into account. This isn’t personal, my dear. It’s professional.”

  “If you let me go, I’ll sue you.”

  “Oh, my poor little sweet piece of brick and mortar, then I suggest that you lawyer up. Find the best you can. But just remember this—if you do, you won’t work in this town again. Alex will blackball you. You’ll be finished.”

  She held out her hands in a way that was condescendingly helpful. “So, my recommendation to you is this.” She grabbed a banker’s box that was on the table behind her and held it in her lap. “You’ve got one hour to clean out your desk of your personal belongings. This box should do the trick—you don’t seem like a man who is attached to anything personal, with the exception of maybe an overpriced Montblanc pen or two. You know—so you can mark up your manuscripts with a flourish of important red ink. I can only imagine the grand gestures you make when you kill—oh, let’s see—something as abrasive as an adjective.”

  “If I’m to be fired, Alexander Wenn can fire me himself.”

  And Blackwell sighed. “You’ve never understood me or my position, have you? Or my power here at Wenn. That’s at your own peril, of course. Not taking the time to learn who I really am in this organization can be rather devastating. Career flopping. For instance, since we’ve been having our little chat about shoving you out the door, IT already has been in your office like a swarm of wasps. At this point, you no longer have access to your computer—it’s been taken away from you. Everything that’s on it always has belonged to Wenn, and now we’re sure that it always will. After all, we’re surely not going to let you act out of spite and dump important files, are we? You know, such as works in progress that you likely have with several of Wenn’s authors? We’d never allow that. At this point, other senior editors will pick up those projects. More reasonable, less-egotistical editors. But you already know that. I can see it boiling on your face.”

  When Boss spoke, his voice was a low growl. “Wherever I land, my writers will follow me.”

  Blackwell looked at me. “Oh, how awful. Lisa, I’m sorry to see you go.”

  “I’m not going with him,” I said.

  “Neither are the others. Because contractually, they belong to Wenn—not to Marco. But you already know that, Marco, so why even put it out there until they’re not under contract and can do as they please?”

  “Now,” she continued, “one last thing you need to know before you go—all of your passwords have been changed. You no longer have access to your email account with Wenn or to your voicemail. Also, your key card has been deactivated.” She tossed the box at him. It struck his chest and fell to the floor. “You have zero access to Wenn, and I have zero time for you. Goodbye, Marco. And good luck.”

  “Fuck you,” he said.

  “T.S. Elliot couldn’t have said it better.”

  “I’ll burn your reputation, Blackwell.”

  “Just promise me that you’ll try your best. I hate a half-assed effort.”

  When he turned to me, what I saw in his eyes was something dangerous and foreboding. It wasn’t just utter hatred that I saw. It was an unnerving undercurrent of revenge. “See you soon, Ward. Don’t think I’ll forget this. You’ll pay for it.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Let’s just say that it’s been added to one of the facts I listed earlier. And when I come after you, you won’t see it coming. But it’ll hurt.”

  “Hear that boys?” Blackwell said to the security detail. “That was indeed a threat, and I won’t have it. Escort Mr. Boss immediately out of the building. We’ll ship his personal items to him by the end of the day. If he doesn’t go peacefully, call the police and have him arrested for trespassing.”

  Before Boss could say anything more, Cutter turned him away from Blackwell and me, and with a chill I felt deep in my bones, I watched Marco Boss storm down the hallway. He was gone—at least temporarily—from our lives.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  For a moment, neither Blackwell nor I said anything after we were left alone. I braced the arms of my chair, and took a breath to try to calm my nerves, but there was no calming them now.

  My heart was pounding after my altercation with Bos
s. The knot in my stomach had become impossibly tight. I was proud that I’d found the strength to stand up to him, but it was not like me and I was rattled by how intense the moment between us had unfolded. I was especially worried about Boss’ threat, and I sensed that Blackwell was too.

  She came around her desk, picked up the box she’d tossed at Marco, closed the door to her office, and took her seat after putting the box on the table behind her. She leaned forward, placed her elbow on her desk, and then pressed her fingers against her forehead and closed her eyes.

  What had just transpired would have taken most people to the edge, but I had to admit that I was surprised to see that Blackwell was one of those people. She’d always seemed so strong to me. So ready and eager for a fight. Earlier, she’d seemed nothing if not pumped to fire Boss, and how she handled herself when she did so was the epitome of smooth, calculated, and controlled.

  But now, the look of concern and fatigue on her face was palpable.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I don’t like that he threatened you.”

  “What could he do to me?”

  She sat up with weariness in her eyes, and then waved a hand in front of her face in a dismissive fashion. “Let’s not worry about that now. Let’s just see how this plays out.”

  How what plays out…?

  “You’ve had a rough twenty-four hours, but at least one son of a bitch is now out of your life. If I know Tank, and I do, the other one will be dealt with when he returns home from Singapore. Neither of us knows how Tank will do it, but finding someone like your ex-boyfriend in a city as large as Manhattan is what Tank specializes in. That’s what he was trained to do, and that’s what he’ll do when he comes home. He’ll find him. He’ll have his way with him. And then hopefully we’ll move forward.”