by Monica James
The claws come out as Daisy saunters over, hooking her arm through mine. “I missed you.” Before I can speak, she thrusts her tongue into my mouth and kisses me with a dramatic flair.
Carrie snickers because she knows what this is. This is her sister all but cocking her leg and taking a piss on me. She is clearly marking her territory, or what she thinks is hers, because when I gently push her away, I make it clear that I don’t appreciate being treated like a piece of meat.
Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I don’t shy away from that fact. “I need a drink.” Daisy doesn’t hide her surprise when I don’t fall for her advances. Her arrogance is a complete turn-off, and I plan on telling her tonight that whatever this is, is over. I will figure out another way to salvage my career. I’m done being her chew toy.
Nora chooses this moment to come sweeping down the stairs, and thankfully, she’s totally clothed. Her cheeks turn a soft pink when we lock eyes, but I smile, hinting it’s water under the bridge. “Come on, girls. Your father is waiting.” She locks arms with Daisy, but she seems to know better than to do so with Carrie.
They chat up ahead while Carrie and I lag. It’s hard to believe she is related to these people. I can understand why she believes she was adopted. However, the moment she leans in close, all I can focus on is her sweetness. “You’re in so much trouble.”
How I wish she was proposing we could rectify this situation by taking me over her knee, but I know she’s referring to her sister. “I need a lifeline,” I whisper, her heady fragrance punching me low.
“This isn’t Who Wants to be a Millionaire,” she replies, a sudden hitch to her breath. I ignore what the sound does to me and focus on what’s important, which is leaving this house with all my parts intact.
“Well, at the moment, I feel like Slumdog Millionaire. Please help me.” She bites that full bottom lip, eliciting images sure to send me straight to hell.
She doesn’t have time to put me out of my misery because when we turn the corner, I’m fearful we’ve stepped onto the set of Iron Chef. Carrie sighs, vocalizing my exact thoughts that what we’re seeing is bordering on ridiculous.
The dining room is a flurry of madness as servers rush around, ensuring the mammoth table is set with military precision. The crystal sparkles, and the gold-rimmed plates look like they’ve been polished within an inch of their lives.
The guests in the crowded room all hold glasses filled with bubbling champagne as they talk about the latest pretentious headline among themselves. I can’t believe I used to be one of these wankers.
Axle is in the midst of the commotion, forever the show pony. He’s mid conversation with someone who looks to be a bigger tool than he is when he spots Carrie and me standing awkwardly by the door. She’s toying with the C around her neck, and when Axle makes it clear he’s gloating over kicking my arse today, a word beginning with C, which describes him to a T, tempts to break free. But I rein it in. Only just.
He slaps his chum on the back before making a beeline to where we stand. This should be fun.
“I didn’t think you’d be up for tonight…after me kicking your ass and all.” Oh, I could have been all up in your wife tonight, I silently reply, but instead, I smile quietly. “You snooze, you lose.” He’s cocky while I bite my cheek to stop the cursing from erupting.
Carrie, on the other hand, has no qualms about filling in the blanks. “If you’re done with your macho bullshit, Dad, I need a drink. Jayden?”
My mouth moves in wordless animation as I feel an even bigger attraction for Carrie. “Lead the way.”
Axle’s eyes narrow, which pleases me beyond words. It appears Mr. Macho doesn’t like to be upstaged and ignored, which is exactly the hand he’s been dealt. Carrie rolls her eyes before taking off after the waiter who holds a tray full of champagne glasses.
I go to follow, but Axle’s hand snaps out, securing my bicep. I peer down at it with my jaw clenched. He has five fucking seconds to remove his hand before I remove it for him. “That little wager…that extends to both my daughters. Hands off.”
This guy has some nerve. I am done playing nice. I am done playing—period.
Jerking my arm free, I drop all pretenses and grin, smartly. “I’m a man of my word, but I don’t think your darling daughter will abide by your hands-off rule. I think you’ve just created a monster.” I shoot him a wink, all but confirming that Daisy will be giving me a not so discreet hand job the moment his back is turned. “As for Carrie, she knows better than to get involved with someone like me.”
Touché, motherfucker.
Axle’s mouth hinges open as he could interpret my comment in many ways. His poker face is obliterated because he’s currently scanning through what exactly “someone like me” entails. I leave him to stew over the many possibilities, most of which are probably correct, and seek out Carrie. She has two glasses in her hands, scanning over the room and looking as impressed as I feel. I need to get out of here.
Once this dinner is done with, I’m calling Nick and demand he put me on the next flight out of here. I’m fearful for my sanity if I stay here a moment longer.
“J.E. Sparrow?” Turning, I see an older man peering at me with uncertainty. I have no idea who he is, and when he sees my confusion, he shakes his head with a smile. “Sorry, I’m a little star struck. I’m Gerry Williams.” He extends his hand, and I shake.
Gerry Williams? Why does that name sound so familiar?
“Gerry, I don’t mean to be rude, but have we met?” We continue shaking before Gerry severs the connection, appearing embarrassed.
“I’m the G in A&G Publishing,” he reveals while I piece together where I know his name. He’s my fucking boss. Now, I’m the one who’s embarrassed.
“Please accept my apologies,” I say while Gerry shakes his head once.
“It’s completely fine. Axle and I have remained on the sidelines for a long time, much to my distaste.” My ears prick at his comment because it was intentional. Just what is he playing at?
When he comes in close, gesturing whatever he wants to say is in confidence, he reveals a whole different ballgame. “Please keep this between us because it’s early days, but I haven’t been happy with the direction A&G Publishing has moved. Because of this, I have decided to go out on my own.”
Well, I certainly didn’t see that coming.
“I know your loyalties lay with Axle…” I don’t bother correcting him as I’m intrigued to where this conversation is headed. “But I was wondering if you’d sit down with me and listen to what I have in mind. You’re our biggest author, and I have always, always seen your talent since day one, which is why I wanted to offer you a contract at Williams Publishing.”
“You want me to jump ship?” I ask, unable to keep the surprise from my tone.
Gerry sweeps the room, ensuring no one is in earshot. “Yes, I do,” he states very matter-of-factly. “I want you to be the first client signed to Williams Publishing, and I will do anything to make that happen. I have big plans for you. A whole new rebrand and different marketing plan. We have no other choice but to keep up with the changes in the publishing industry. We have to stay current in an everchanging world; a fact Axle won’t acknowledge.”
Running a hand through my hair, I billow my cheeks with the strangled breath caught in my throat. This is big, and I can’t deny I find it very tempting.
Reaching into his inner suit jacket pocket, he produces a crisp white business card with a royal blue W as the header. It appears this plan is well in motion. Fingering the corner, I see the address is not too far from where A&G Publishing is located. This should be interesting.
“Think about it. Talk to your agent. But please know that if you decide to sign with us, your next four books will be secured in a very lucrative deal.”
Pocketing the business card, I nod calmly. “I’ll talk to my agent.”
Gerry smiles, appearing relieved I didn’t tell him to bugger off as I waved the A&G Publishing
team colors. “Excellent. Please call me anytime.”
He slaps me on the back lightly, before joining a blonde across the room who I presume is his wife. She looks awfully familiar, but I can’t place where I’ve seen her. As a server zips past with a tray of champagne, I snare two glasses, needing all the booze I can get. I watch closely as Gerry whispers into her ear before she seeks me out and smiles.
“Pookie bear.” And just like that, my moment of happiness fizzles out. I down my drink with the other following soon after. “I feel like we haven’t had any alone time. Maybe we can change that tonight,” she purrs, running her fingernail along the collar of my shirt.
There is no maybe about that equation.
Sighing, I know what I have to do, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the conversation I just had. Yes, the offer is tempting, but I need to discuss this with Nick. Although he’s a questionable best friend most of the time with his uncouth behavior, he’s a bloody good agent.
“Daisy, look…” She purses her lips, faking innocence because she knows what’s about to come. It’s a conversation we’ve had before. “You know I’m not ready to see anyone after what happened with my”—I swallow past the lump in my throat—“ex-wife. I think I’ve been very clear of that fact. But I feel you’re not listening. So I feel it’s best if we…” But my sentence remains unfinished.
She launches forward, pressing her finger over my lips to silence me. I shrug out of her hold because this is happening, whether she wants it to or not. But when she closes the distance between us, pressing us nose to nose, I know I’m wasting my breath.
“It’s my sister, isn’t it?”
“What?” I recoil, unsure how to respond.
“She’s always been jealous of me, so it doesn’t surprise me the moment she arrives, you begin questioning your feelings for me.” She snivels while I wonder if I’ve stepped into an alternate universe. “What did she do? Offer to blow you? Is that it?”
I’m fucking insulted. Is that what she thinks of me? But more importantly, is that what she thinks of Carrie? That fact angers me more than her judgment over my morals.
“You’re not listening. There are no feelings for me to question.” Harsh but also very true. I’ve tried to spare her feelings, but the fact she’s blaming our “relationship” woes on her sister has me desperate to set the record straight. “We had a good time. That’s all. I never promised you…”
Whack.
The stinging in my cheek confirms that Daisy just slapped me. Rubbing my face, I move my jaw from side to side. I suppose I deserved it for allowing this to continue for as long as it has.
“Good time?” she spits, her crazy lashing out of control. “I know how much of a good time you had when you fucked me in the limo coming here!”
“Lower your voice,” I hiss as we’ve drawn the attention of almost everyone in the room.
“Oh, you weren’t complaining about how loud I was when you were eating me out on my father’s desk! Or when you came all over my face!”
Speaking of faces, I screw mine up into a contorted mess because that never happened. “That wasn’t me, love. Maybe you’re mistaking me for somebody else.” A lady gasps beside me while her husband appears to want to fist bump me.
Bodily fluids aside, this is far messier than I anticipated. I won’t entertain her melodramatics a second longer. Just as I’m about to tell her we’re done, she looks over my shoulder and then suddenly bursts in crocodile tears. “You’re breaking up with me because you don’t think you’re worthy. Stop putting me on some pedestal. I’m not perfect. I know you think I am, but I’m not.”
My mouth hangs open because she has clearly gone completely mad.
However, when Axle’s voice sounds from behind me, it proves to me what an evil genius Daisy Bell truly is. “What’s going on here?”
Daisy shoots me a sly wink, which is akin to witnessing my own death, before sobbing a tearless cry and shielding her face with her hands. “Jayden doesn’t think he’s good enough for me. He said I’m perfect, and he doesn’t deserve me.”
“Finally, we agree on something,” Axle says while I glare at Daisy. That conniving little harlot.
She is doing this, all of this, because she believes if her father thinks we’re no longer a thing, he won’t be watching her like a hawk 24/7, which will mean she can use my cock as her personal pogo stick, uninterrupted for the duration of our stay.
This is my fault for not giving her credit. Daisy is an evil mastermind.
“So you’re broken up?” Axle asks, the hope clear in his tone.
“Looks that way, Daddy. You have nothing to worry about. Jayden has made his feelings perfectly clear. He would rather become a saint than touch me ever again.”
All I can do is stand mute because I actually don’t know what to say. By trying to be honest, it appears, if possible, that I’ve dug myself an even bigger hole. “I think it’s best if you leave, Jayden.”
“Fine by me,” I reply, finding my voice as this is the best suggestion since I arrived.
But Daisy won’t have that. I won’t be leaving until she says it’s time. Being tied to her bed doesn’t seem so farfetched now. “No, Daddy, let him stay. It’s the holidays. No one should be alone.”
Not only is Daisy the victim, but she’s also the martyr. I underestimated her. She knows how I feel, how I’ve felt this entire time, but it’s clear that it’s over when she says it is and not a second sooner.
I have no idea what she wants from me, but I don’t feel like such a rotten bastard knowing she was playing me this entire time. Most would be angry, but I’m not most. If anything, I’m relieved. I just have to get to the bottom of her reasons, and then I’m home free.
She brushes past me, ensuring we touch, just in case I haven’t clued on to her game.
This is all for show. To throw her dad off the scent. When I turn over my shoulder and witness his suffocating smugness, I see that it’s worked like a charm.
This would be a turn-on if the joke wasn’t on me.
Daisy huddles into her father’s side, sniffling as he escorts her far, far away from the villain who just happens to be me.
Everyone attempts to be polite and not stare, but what better scandal for them to discuss with their spouses over Christmas Eve hor d’oeuvres? Not interested in being the topic of discussion over dinner, I relieve the server of his tray of drinks and leave the room with no intention of ever returning.
Each step requires a celebration, and by the time I reach the top of the staircase, I’m well and truly on my way to being pissed. With a tray filled with empty glasses, I shoulder open my bedroom door and begin gathering my belongings, not that I really unpacked.
I send Nick a text, telling him to book me on the first flight home. Until then, I’ll be staying in a hotel. I decide to leave out the predicament I found myself in with Gerry for now. I will tell him that when I talk to him next.
Once I’m packed, I call an Uber and am ready to bid sayonara to this house of horrors. However, when I open the door, I almost run into Carrie, who stands about to knock. She lowers her hand when she fixes her gaze on my bag. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I am. Feel free to come with me. This place is Stephen King’s dream come true.” I attempt to push past her, but she steps to the left, blocking my escape route. Peering down at her, I arch a curious brow.
“What about your contract with A&G Publishing?”
“Screw the contract. I’ll figure something out.”
She purses those supple lips. “I don’t want to say I told you so…but I told you so.”
A chuckle escapes me. “Yes, I know. I completely deserve it. It’s time I start making amends for the error of my ways.”
“So what was with Daisy’s Oscar worthy performance? She’s always been melodramatic, but that was something else.”
Indeed. “She wants to fool your father into thinking we’re broken up so he’ll call off his hounds, meaning she can
have her way with me whenever she wants.” I don’t mean to sound cocky because it’s the god’s honest truth.
Carrie turns a lovely shade of pink while I wonder if every part of her does the same. “My god”—she shakes her head—“you must be some lay for her to go to all that effort.”
This time, however, I can’t keep the cocky at bay as I shrug with a grin.
“Your sister isn’t as…innocent,” I opt for, “as she looks. She knew what this was, and when I was about to end it once and for all, she reminded me that the ball or, more specifically, my balls are in her court, and she’s not done playing—not by a long shot.”
Carrie’s lips move from side to side in thought while I focus on anything other than their fullness.
“I don’t have any proof, but I have an inkling she would play with me until she gets bored and then feed me to the sharks— aka your father. She comes across as the martyr for allowing me to stay, all the while she’s blackmailing me into literal submission.” I shudder at the thought. “I clearly know how to pick them. Between my ex-wife and your sister, I am wondering if maybe I should just settle with the companionship of thirty-seven cats.”
Carrie snorts a giggle, which is the most adorable sound in the world. “Under most circumstances, I would feel sorry for you, but well, I told you so.”
She’s right.
“Daisy doesn’t like taking orders.” I don’t bother correcting her because I’d rather burn those images from my mind for good. “She’s punishing you for even thinking you could end this, whatever this is, without her consent. You’re her new shiny toy. Lucky you.”
“Yes, lucky me,” I quip. “And I think you mean chew toy, which is exactly why I need to leave.”
I attempt to push past her once again, but Carrie extends her arm, holding the doorframe. I can’t help but admire her supple flesh and the defined shape to her arms. She must work out. Thoughts of her all sweaty and in skimpy gym wear leave me with a raging semi. But I need to focus.
“But you leaving means she wins,” she says, reminding me of my dire circumstances. “She comes out looking like the good guy while you’re the bastard who broke her heart. My father will be sure to see you never publish with him ever again.”
