Mr. Write

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Mr. Write Page 8

by Monica James


  “Thanks for the word of warning. I don’t suppose there are any rooms with locks on the doors and bars on the windows?” I ask, half teasing.

  She laughs but quickly covers her mouth, embarrassed to be caught laughing at her boss’s expense. “I’ve heard the boat house is quite comfortable.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” She leaves me to guzzle down the remainder of my whiskey. The empty bottle is a sign of things to come.

  Not bothering to groom my unkempt appearance, I stagger down the stairs, hoping the eldest Bell child doesn’t take after his father. I’m rather unsteady on my feet, and when I hit the polished terrazzo in the grand foyer, I realize I’m a little wasted.

  Maybe if I spend my entire time here a little—or a lot—intoxicated, I’ll be able to survive this house of horrors. When Daisy’s shriek pierces through the halls, I wonder which way will take me to the kitchen so I can snag another bottle of booze.

  “I missed you, Tanner!”

  “Missed you too, little sis. You breaking any hearts?” he says, tongue in cheek.

  “She’s breaking something,” I mutter aloud.

  Putting my game face on, I enter the living room, surprised to see it filled with an abundance of people. I assume the tall guy Daisy is hugging fondly is her brother. He’s build like a brick shithouse, and her arms barely fit around his robust frame. The pretty blonde who stands off to the side trying to control four rug rats running amuck must be his wife.

  The regal looking lass standing by Axle’s side is no doubt his wife as Daisy is her spitting image. I can feel every organ being perforated by Axle’s death stares, but I choose to ignore him because something suddenly attaches to my calf. Peering downward, I now see where the phrase ankle biter comes from. One of the screaming kids clings to my leg, hugging it like a deranged koala on crack.

  I attempt to shake him off subtly, but his vise-like grip is similar to his aunt’s. “Ah, hello, little mate. Think I can have my leg back?”

  The little tyke peers up at me, grinning an innocent grin, before he opens his mouth and bites me—hard. “Bloody hell!”

  My outburst highlights the fact I’m now shaking my leg as if I’m doing the rumba with this sodding maniac still clinging to my calf.

  “Justin, language! We’re in the presence of children.”

  “Daddy! His name is Jayden.”

  “I am so sorry! Teddy, get off him!”

  “My turn! My turn! My turn!”

  An uproar of voices filters through the air, overlapping the one before it. As Tanner comes to my rescue, his wife fends off the other three spawns of Satan to keep them from latching onto my remaining limbs, and I see Daisy march over to her father and give him a mouthful.

  Axle is being an utter dick, but I keep my cool because it’s nice to know I get under his skin. As Daisy lectures him about his manners, no doubt, he glares at me, hating that someone out there can tarnish Daddy’s perfection.

  “Teddy, come to me.” I’d almost forgotten I had a child fixed to my leg as watching my boss squirm was far more enjoyable than I thought it would be.

  Tanner has dropped to a squat, coaxing his son off with a stuffed bear. He waves the bear at arm’s length, hoping it’ll bribe the little critter to let go. The tattered toy is obviously far more tempting than my flesh because he thankfully unlocks his jaw and waddles over to where his father is.

  “I’m so sorry,” Tanner says, peering up at me with a smile. Unlike his father, he appears genuine and to be a good guy. “He’s teething.”

  I wave off his apologies. “Yes, I felt that,” I quip.

  Tanner passes the bear to his son before standing and extending his hand. “I’m Tanner, by the way. Daisy’s brother.”

  I’m impressed by his handshake. “Hi, I’m Jayden.” I don’t wish to elaborate just who I am to Daisy because I want my hand returned in one piece.

  Tanner doesn’t press, but I can see the faces of everyone in the room wondering what the hell I’m doing here. Being bitten by a toddler seems far less painful than being stuck here with the Bells.

  “Hi Jayden, I’m Nora. Nice to meet you.” Daisy’s mom is first to break the ice as she advances to me. I’m pretty certain Axle’s blood pressure just shot through the roof as Nora is more than the hospitable host and kisses both my cheeks.

  I lean into the embrace, turning on the charm. “The pleasure is all mine. I can see where Daisy gets her remarkable looks from.”

  Nora turns a pretty shade of rose pink, before lowering her eyes with a lascivious, wanton smile. Looks like Daisy got something else from her mom.

  “Well, seeing as we’re doing the rounds, I’m Brooke, Tanner’s wife.” She steps forward, kids hanging off her, but I manage to shake her hand without losing a finger. “And these little terrors are Victor, Theo, Chandler, and you’ve met Teddy.”

  “Yes, I don’t think I’ll ever forget meeting him,” I assure her as my leg begins to throb.

  “Don’t worry, he’s had his shots,” Tanner teases, bumping me with his elbow. I almost catapult to the other side of the room.

  Everyone erupts into laughter, bar Axle who folds his arms across his chest, appearing angered he was upstaged. Maybe I’ll like it here after all.

  “We’re still waiting on a few people to arrive. How about we have a drink in the den?” suggests Nora, toying with the pearls around her neck while glancing my way. I know that look. Things just got interesting.

  Brooke takes her little monsters upstairs, while the rest of us follow Nora into the den. The fireplace is lit, emitting a blanket of warmth through the room. An enormous plasma hangs on the wall, and a leather sectional sofa offers seating for a modest fifteen people. Numerous team jerseys in glass frames decorate the walls.

  Axle makes his way over to the bar, tight lipped. I wonder what he’s thinking. I bet he’s wondering how he can slip cyanide into my whiskey undetected.

  Daisy has been surprisingly unclingy. She has been since I failed to mention just who I am to her and why exactly I’m here. But Nora seems to fill her daughter’s shoes perfectly. “So you’re a writer?” she asks, sauntering over with a glass in her hand.

  I accept the offering, raising it to clink my glass with hers. “Yes, I am. Your husband has been quite supportive over the years.”

  She sips her drink, appearing to weight up what to say. “Don’t let the name on the building fool you. I doubt my husband even knows you’re one of his authors. He has his minions do all the hard work for him.”

  Her comment surprises me. “I suppose in his position, he can do whatever he wants.”

  She scoffs, peering over at Axle with nothing but contempt. “You can say that again.”

  It’s blatantly obvious that the spark fizzled from Nora and Axle’s marriage long ago. This just confirms my original thinking that Axle is a twat because Nora is beautiful. I know looks aren’t everything, but from what I can tell, she seems relatively normal and down to earth.

  “I’ve read all your books. After Daisy told me who you were, I was intrigued.” She skims her red painted fingernail along the rim of the glass while tonguing her top lip. “You didn’t disappoint.”

  She is brazenly flirting with me, and the slits Axle’s eyes have shaped into are a sure sign he knows it too. “Thank you. I’m pleased you enjoyed them.”

  “Are you working on anything new?”

  I try not to cringe as I gulp down my scotch. “Yes, I am. I’m hoping to be done by summer.” That’s wishful thinking.

  “Well, I can’t wait to read it. Your leading men are so”—she places her hand to her chest—“swoon worthy. I can’t help but wonder if they’re based on you.” She winks over the rim of her glass.

  I’m flattered, but I’m also a little concerned for my well-being because if she continues to flirt, I’ll be leaving here in a wooden box. “Well, they do say the first rule of writing is to write what you know,” I reply, hoping my lightheartedness will reveal I’m not int
erested in a holiday fling.

  “Well, you know your art well,” she purrs, not at all deterred.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Daisy asks, and I’ve never been happier to see her.

  “Just about what a great author Jayden is, honey,” Nora replies without pause.

  Daisy snuggles into my side as if marking her territory. “Yes, he is. I’m sure I’ve given him enough inspiration to finish this new next book in record time.” If only she knew the half of it.

  I simply smile and gulp down my drink.

  “When are we eating? I’m starving,” Tanner says, walking over to our circle carrying a beer.

  “We’re still waiting on everyone to arrive,” Nora says with a small laugh. “And besides, I don’t think you’ll be starving to death anytime soon.” She steps up on tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

  Daisy rolls her eyes while Tanner pretends to fend off her affections, but it’s clear he loves his mom. “Do you play ball?” he asks me.

  The jerseys on the walls reveal that this family loves to play. Maybe this is my chance to impress Axle. I may be a writer stuck indoors most days, but I pride myself on my physical prowess. “Yes.”

  Axle finally graces us with his presence, but of course, it’s only to mock me. “I highly doubt you can keep up with us,” he boasts, practically beating on his chest like a gorilla in the wild.

  Daisy huddles into me, blowing out a small, frustrated grunt. This egomaniac act is really growing old, just like Axle. He’s in good shape, but if he thinks he can beat me, he’s got another thing coming. I’ve always been an overachiever, and now is no exception. “Challenge accepted.”

  Tanner hollers in excitement, enjoying the friendly competition, but I know blood will be spilled. Axle grins, limbering up as he stretches his arms in front of him. “Very well then. Let’s make things interesting. How about a wager?”

  “Daddy,” Daisy scolds, shaking her head in warning. “It’s freezing out. Hardly suitable weather to play football.” But her cautioning goes unheard.

  “Sounds like my kind of game.” My confidence isn’t an act. I’m determined to whip Axle’s arse.

  He grins smugly because in his head, he’s already won. “If I win…” He peers over at Daisy who is clutching onto me tightly. “My daughter is off-limits.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous!” she protests in horror while I’m suddenly beginning to come to terms with my future loss.

  This is a win-win. If I lose, Axle feels like a big man with the bigger cock, but his ante is my get out of jail for free card. This is the out I needed. I stroke his already enormous ego, and I’m Daisy free. Where do I sign up?

  But I simulate confliction and hold off on my victory dance for now. “And if I win?”

  Axle appears humored, as if that prospect is too ridiculous to fathom. But he indulges me nonetheless. “If you win…I’ll triple your current advance and sign your next three books.”

  Now that changes everything.

  If I win, I can go home and forget this charade ever took place. But by winning, that will make Axle the loser, something he doesn’t like being.

  My career is pretty much saved thanks to Axle’s arrogance, but by saving myself, I have to step into the lion’s den and deal with the repercussions. I know without a doubt that Axle will make my life hell if I upstage him, and he’s declared the loser. But if I lose, I may gain his respect for playing with the big boys.

  Respect usually equates to some form of peace treaty, but pretending to lose would make me a cheater. I think I’ve done enough of that lately.

  Observing Axle’s arrogance, I know there is only one answer—I’m going to wallop his smug arse.

  “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Bell.” I offer my hand, and he shakes it without appearing to want to reach for the hand sanitizer once we’re done.

  A macho energy palpitates in the air, and I almost suffocate on the old man testosterone Axle is emitting. I sneak a peek at Nora, who raises her glass with a nod. She’s celebrating my courage. Or maybe she’s toasting me luck.

  “Jayden, what are you doing?” Daisy whispers frantically into my ear. “Daddy doesn’t like to lose.”

  Unable to mask my smirk, I reply, “Well, neither do I.” Her mouth pops open because she knows what this means.

  Not giving her a chance to chew off my ear about my decision, I head upstairs to change into something a little more appropriate. As I’m rummaging through my bag, my cell chimes, and I know it can only be one person. His scheming radar has probably short-circuited.

  Nick: How’s Daddy?

  Me: Daddy is a wanker. He’s also a presumptuous twat.

  It takes Nick roughly three seconds to reply.

  Nick: He’s also our gold mine. And you’re also screwing his baby girl whom you don’t even like. Do you hate me?

  I can’t help but chuckle at his melodramatics.

  Me: That’s debatable. I think I’m neutral.

  As I change into black sweats and a University of Washington T-shirt, I know that whatever happens today will change everything. I came here to show Axle that I can be a great guy…on most days, but it seems he called bullshit within seconds of meeting me. Maybe the saying rings true—don’t bullshit a bullshit artist.

  He doesn’t care if I’m a great guy or not because he isn’t one. If I were a manipulative egomaniac with a god complex and exchanged strategies on taking over the world with him, then I would be his people because misery loves company.

  Nick: Jayden, whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now.

  Me: Sorry, mate, can’t talk. Have a decrepit old fart to beat. This could have been avoided, but idle hands...

  My cell chimes twice, but I ignore it. Tying my laces, I can’t wait to show Axle Bell just who I really am.

  “Got it?”

  I only just refrain from rolling my eyes when Axle explains the rules to me a second time as though I’m some imbecile.

  Eight of us are playing. The neighbor and his two teenage sons chose the wrong time to deliver their Christmas gift as no one says no to Axle Bell. Nora’s brother and his twentysomething son also got roped into playing. They didn’t even have a chance to unload their Mercedes before Axle was dragging them out to the yard.

  On my team is the neighbor Ron and his two sons, Hamish and Thomas. They look to be in great shape, but compared to our opposition, we may as well throw in the towel now. Axle’s brother-in-law, Damien, and his son, Trevor, look like they were warriors in their former life.

  Daisy sits on the sidelines with her eyes hidden behind enormous shades, but I can feel the daggers from here. I technically don’t have to play nice with her—I don’t have to play with her at all. Once I win this ridiculous wager, I’m on the next plane out of here, bidding sayonara to the Bells for good.

  I’ll deal with the repercussions once I return to Seattle because now, I have a game to win.

  “Right, remember what I told you?” I say to my fellow huddled team members. They all nod, but I don’t feel confident.

  We break apart from our circle, and my gaze drifts to Axle who is revving up Tanner. They’re doing some ludicrous war dance and bumping chests like two blooming buffoons. To all other players, this is just a friendly game, but as Axle narrows his eyes and challenges me with a lopsided smirk, I know this is war.

  We take our positions on our makeshift playing field, bending low as the football is placed between us. I insisted on being quarterback. Not because I’m interested in being the big man on campus, but because I have every intention of running circles around Axle.

  “This is your last chance to back out,” he goads while I grin smugly.

  “I hope you have a pen handy because my agent is emailing over the contracts as we speak.” Tanner finds our bickering hilarious, not realizing how serious I am about winning.

  “All right, boys, let’s keep it clean,” he says, slapping his dad on the back playfully. But that word doesn’t exist in our vocabul
ary.

  Axle’s team won the toss, but with my eyes on the prize, I bend low, waiting for the call. Tanner is star quarterback, and I wonder if those jerseys in the den are his. Taking a deep breath, I put all thoughts out of mind and focus.

  “Hut, hut, hike!”

  The moment those words leave Tanner’s lips, both Axle and I are suddenly possessed. We spring forward, appearing to both be on the same page as we charge for the other. The ball is Axle’s head, and all I can think about is taking him down.

  We collide into one another at full force, not holding back an iota. If I didn’t think he could take it, I would have gone easy on him, but built like a brick shithouse, the old bastard gives as good as he gets. But I give better and almost holler in delight when Axle topples onto his arse.

  “It seems my arms aren’t like a five-year-old little girl after all,” I call out with a winner’s grin as I leap over Axle’s crumpled form and chase after Tanner who has the ball. I’m too late, and he scores, but I’ve already won.

  Damien offers Axle a hand, but he swats it away, his ego bruised enough. He stands, wiping the dirt from his now ruined pants. I jog over to my team who look at me like I’ve gone mad. Their uneasiness only fuels my need for annihilation.

  We stand in formation, and Axle glares at me, his pride clearly wounded. My response is a grin, which only adds salt to the wounds.

  When it’s kickoff time once again, Axle doesn’t even wait for the official word before he tears toward me, a war cry piercing the air. He catches me off guard and smashes into me. I lose my balance, but if I’m going down, so is he. I latch onto his arms, and we both tumble to the ground with a solid thud.

  I’m winded, but Axle wheezing beside me is music to my ears. “I’m sorry,” I pant, clutching my side. “I didn’t see you.”

  “Give up now and save yourself the embarrassment.” He knows he can’t beat me physically, so he’s trying to intimidate me instead. I’m sure this tactic has worked in the past, but to me, it only highlights the fact I’ve won.

  “I think you’d best take your own advice,” I rebuke, standing to catch my breath.

 

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