Clickbait (Off the Record Book 1)

by Garett Groves

  And yet, there I was in the back of a nondescript black car on a Friday night being shuttled to meet Kile anyway. I didn’t have any idea where I was going because he’d refused to tell, saying only that he wanted to surprise and impress me—as if he didn’t already have a history of that. After all, we were about to have dinner together. That was a big surprise in and of itself.

  “Where are we going, anyway?” I asked the driver, not expecting a reply. To my surprise, he looked at me in the rearview mirror.

  “I’m sworn to secrecy,” he said with a smirk, and after that the meager conversation died until we stopped outside of an undecorated, unmarked building on E Street. What the hell was the point of the car, then? I could’ve walked or taken the train here, I thought as I looked at the building.

  “Are you sure this is it?” I asked.

  “Positive. I drop Mr. Avery off here at least twice a month.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a restaurant called maxbar. Mr. Avery says it’s the best place in town but I wouldn’t know. It’s far above my pay grade,” he said with a smirk. Great, I thought. I knew I shouldn’t have let him pick the venue. It’s just like him to pick something flashy and over the top.

  “I guess I’ll find out just how good it is shortly,” I said and climbed out of the car. When I stepped inside the foyer of the building I was surprised to find that it forked. To the left, there was a fancy wine cellar, and to the right there was a frosted glass door that said “maxbar by Sébastien.” I stepped through the door and had to fight back a gasp.

  The restaurant looked like a staging area for a much more high-end IKEA showroom with stark white decor, and lots of stainless steel—except the furniture was designer label and there were very obviously rich people sitting on it.

  “Welcome to maxbar. How many are in your party this evening?” the host asked, his hair slicked back. He wore a crisp tuxedo.

  “I’m actually meeting someone, he should already be here.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Avery. Kile Avery,” I said and he checked his list.

  “Ah, yes. And you are?”

  “Jeff Taylor,” I said.

  “Thank you. Right this way,” the host said and led me to the front corner of the restaurant where I found Kile sitting alone at a somewhat small table clearly designed for two.

  “What do you think?” he asked, gesturing around as I sat down across from him.

  “It’s amazing,” I said. I’d been to almost all of the upscale restaurants in the District but I’d never heard of this one. “But I still wish you would’ve just agreed to dinner at my place. We’re bound to be spotted here.”

  “Isn’t the point of coming to a place like this to be seen? You know, to show the world you’ve arrived?” he asked with a smile.

  “Not when you’re here for a supposedly secret, low-key date,” I said and he chuckled.

  “It’ll be fine. This place is pretty exclusive so I don’t think anyone will do anything crazy. Anyway, how’s the documentary coming along?” he asked. He seemed off, guarded in a way, as if our meeting at the bookstore had gotten to him. It’d certainly gotten to me. Maybe he really was afraid of me—not that I blamed him, because I was just as afraid of him.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t have much to do with the production side of things. I just turn in my notes and maybe some suggestions with the recordings every day. Lee has a whole team of people working on making it look nice, tell a story, and make sense,” I said.

  “Hmm,” Kile said as he took a sip from the glass of red wine in front of him. “I ordered a bottle. I wasn’t sure what you liked. Help yourself,” he said. I hesitated, afraid of what introducing alcohol into the equation might do for the evening.

  “I’ll pass for now,” I said. I needed to keep my head clear and wine definitely wouldn’t help with that. “I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while, so why rush things?”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, though he looked disappointed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this so I guess I needed the social lubricant.” Or liquid courage, depending on how you look at it, I thought.

  “Me too, but I don’t really want to get drunk to enjoy it.”

  “Enjoy it? And here I thought you were all business, all the time,” Kile said with a smirk.

  “Not always. If I was all business, I wouldn’t be here with you now, would I?”

  “Fair enough,” he said, his body language turning suddenly tense, and silence fell between us. Normally, carrying a conversation was as easy as breathing for me—it was my job, after all—but Kile threw me off. I didn’t know how to talk to him outside of a professional context and I didn’t know what to talk about. Well, there were a million questions I wanted to ask him about what was going on between us but that wasn’t an option.

  “So… How are things going over at The Flame since you’ve been tied up?” I asked. He threw me a look like I was already boring him.

  “I don’t really know. I’ve kinda checked out of the place since we started filming. It’s been nice not to have to worry about it. Joel’s doing a good job.”

  “Shame I didn’t get to meet him today,” I said and I meant it. If Joel was Kile’s right-hand man then I definitely needed to talk to him. Unfortunately, he’d been holed up in an office room the entire time I was there.

  “Well, now that he’s the only guy doing a two-person job, he’s more than a little busy.”

  “I get it. Just a shame.”

  “Anyway, as fascinating as this conversation is, we’re supposed to be on a date. Can we leave work at work?”

  “Right, yeah. Sorry. I just don’t really know what else to talk about.”

  “Alright, then let me get the conversation started. What was going through your mind when you had me on your show?” he asked and I froze. Of course, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about that since it’d happened but that didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it with him. It was like ripping a scab off a particularly nasty wound that had only just started to heal.

  “I’m not sure. A lot of things were going through my head.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how much I didn’t want you on my show,” I said and he laughed.

  “Why not?” he asked with a smile. “And be nice. I remember things.”

  “Honestly, I thought you were a hack. I didn’t think you had a shred of integrity and I thought I’d be doing myself and my viewers a disservice by having you on.”

  “Ouch. Do you still think that about me?”

  “I don’t know what I think about you anymore,” I said. In so many ways, I added in my thoughts.

  “I do tend to mystify people,” he said, his smile growing. “But I don’t think I’ve ever set anyone off in the same way I did with you. What was that all about?”

  “Well, I didn’t take kindly to you attacking my entire industry, which I’ve been working in since I was old enough to work.”

  “I can see how that might be taken personally.”

  “Taken personally? You called me out.”

  “And it got under your skin that much?”

  “It did, but it wasn’t just that.”

  “Admit it, it was also my stunning good looks.”

  “That was probably part of it,” I laughed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Truthfully, I was grateful for his humor. It made the conversation and the moment easier to bear and put me at ease enough to answer him. “The bigger part of it was that I didn’t think you really believed any of the shit you were saying. I still don’t,” I said and he eyed me suspiciously.

  “Why would I be saying it if I didn’t?” he asked and my resolve cracked. I sighed and reached for the wine bottle to fill my glass. I took a deep, deep swig and savored it while I took a moment to find the words I needed to say what I really wanted to say.

  “I think you’re doing it to try and convince yourself that you’re right. Mor
e than that, I think you’re doing it to keep people away because you’re afraid of them.”

  “You’re not the first person to say that, and you’re also not the first one I’ve told off for saying it,” he said. “It’s not true at all.”

  “Really? Then why are you still single?”

  “Because I haven’t found the right guy yet,” he answered, his eyes twinkling in the dim light as they locked on mine. “I’ve kissed lots of toads and not one of them has turned into a Prince Charming.” A few moments passed in which we stared at each other, and finally he smirked before breaking our gaze.

  “So what about you? Why are you still single after all of this time? Surely you’ve gotten offers along the way,” he said, swirling the remainder of his wine around in his glass.

  “For the same reason,” I admitted, my heart racing as the words came out of my mouth. I never imagined myself talking about this with Kile Avery of all people. He wasn’t the only one who’d been burned by an ex. Jeremy had nearly cost me everything, and after that ordeal was over, I swore I’d never let love or relationships get in the way of my career again. So how did I explain what was happening with Kile?

  “Looks like we have a lot more in common than either of us thought,” he said and I stayed quiet. He eyed me cautiously.

  “Why are we here? Why are we doing this?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself.

  “That’s a very good question. I don’t know about you but I’m here on business,” he said.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it is,” I said.

  “If it’s bullshit then what are you doing here, Jeff?” he asked.

  “I’m here because I have feelings for you, god damn it,” I said, my eyes locked on his. His face shifted from a look of surprise to confusion and back to collected in a matter of seconds. He narrowed his eyes and considered me over the lip of his wine glass as he took another drink.

  “I guess we do have more in common than I thought,” he said at last after setting his glass down.

  “What? Really?” I asked, my heart racing faster than it had been before. Is he still screwing with me? I wondered.

  “Yes, really,” he said. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but I can’t deny the fact that there’s something going on here. When you kissed me the other day…” he trailed off.

  “So you felt something?”

  “Of course I did, don’t be an idiot,” he said. “How couldn’t I have? You surprise attacked me with your mouth.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but I didn’t know how else to get through to you.”

  “Well, it worked. I liked that. I’m usually the one in charge, making all of the moves. It was…” he trailed off and I involuntarily leaned forward in my seat, hanging on his words. “It was nice to be surprised,” he said, his smile returning. “It’s been a long time since that’s happened. Hell, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything from a kiss other than boredom. So, well done,” he said and my face tingled from fighting back the smile I didn’t want him to see.

  There he goes again, being all fucking beautiful and reveling in the fact he’s gotten to me, I thought, kicking myself for falling for it yet again. Kile was the kind of guy who would do anything to get a rise out of others, but the more I got to know him, the more I appreciated it—because I saw it for what it was. It was a front, a weapon, a way to let people get close while still keeping them at arm’s length—and I was determined to get past it.

  “What do you say we get out of here?” I asked and he laughed.

  “You really are full of surprises. We haven’t even eaten yet.”

  “So what? We’ll pay for the wine and call it a night.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  “Where we should’ve gone in the first place: my house,” I said and he raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Why?”

  “So we can have some drinks and talk without having to look over our shoulders,” I said. “Nothing more, nothing less,” I continued, knowing that it would almost certainly lead to more. It was a bad idea, probably one of the worst I’d ever come up with, but there wasn’t any taking it back now—even if I’d wanted to.

  “Call us a ride, then,” he said, so I did, my hands shaking as I pulled up my ride share app and requested a driver. I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly, knew I was making a giant mistake by encouraging things to go in this direction, but at the moment I didn’t care.

  Whatever happens, no one will know, I rationalized. No one but us. My phone vibrated to alert me that the driver was outside.

  “They’re here,” I said and Kile took a $100 bill from his wallet and threw it on the table before standing and putting his coat on. As we stepped out of the restaurant, his hand slipped into mine and I knew that things would never be the same again.

  Despite all of the years I’d spent building up my resolve, Kile Avery had broken me.

  14

  Kile

  The city whipped past in a blur of lights as the driver took us to wherever the hell Jeff lived. He wasn’t very talkative once we’d gotten into the car, which unfortunately gave me time to think about all of the many, many ways this was going to go wrong.

  Because we were going to fuck, no doubt about it. I was OK with that, or at least mostly OK with it, but I didn’t know what it meant for us afterward. Would things be awkward and weird, making it unbearable for us to work together? Or would they go so well that we kept doing it, which might also make it unbearable for us to work together? And more importantly, how could we possibly keep it hush-hush?

  No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t think of a good end result. This was a terrible idea all around but god I wanted him, and I think he knew it from the time he sat down at the table. Our conversation definitely hadn’t helped to dissuade me, either. We hadn’t broken our grip on each other’s hands since we got into the car, and every time I dared to look over at him, he’d smile and stroke the back of my hand with his thumb.

  It was romantic and corny and eye roll inducing all at once and yet somehow it worked for me. Despite everything I’d said and done to prevent this, despite all of the warnings Joel had given me, here I was in a car, with Jeff Taylor, on the way to his house ‘to have drinks and talk.’ I couldn’t make any sense of it, couldn’t put my finger on any one particular thing that had pushed me over the edge, but I’d definitely been thrown over.

  “Stop here,” Jeff barked at the driver and he turned off onto the side of the road. Logan Circle, I thought, recognizing it right away. He would live here. The cab came to a halt outside of a tall building, which I could only assume Jeff lived in.

  He passed the driver a wad of cash for a tip without even bothering to look at how much he was handing over and pulled me by the hand out of the car. I’d been cool and collected until then. When the freezing evening air hit my face and I stared up at the twelfth floor of the building, which was no doubt where Jeff’s place was, my heart pounded in my chest.

  I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Jeff, so I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d already made a mistake before anything had even happened. Sex can happen between two people without it meaning anything. I say it all the time, I thought as we stepped into the elevator. The lobby had slipped past without me even noticing it.

  “You alright?” Jeff asked and when I came back to my senses I was disappointed to find we were the only two people in the elevator.

  “Yeah, just a little nervous.”

  “You? Nervous? I find that hard to believe,” he said with a smirk as he squeezed my hand, which in my jumble of thoughts I’d forgotten he was holding. That makes two of us, I thought. I looked at Taylor, his blue eyes twinkling, the elevator music seeping into my ears, and took a deep breath. It’s going to be fine, I told myself. Calm down.

  “That’s us,” Taylor said, again snapping me out of my thoughts as the elevator stopped on the twelfth floor of the building. He stepped out, pulling me behind him, and fumbled
in his pocket for his keys. His was the only apartment on the floor, which wasn’t lost on me. I knew he had money, but I didn’t have any idea he was wealthy enough to be able to lay claim to an entire floor of a building in the District. GNN really had paid him well.

  “Wow,” I gasped as I stepped inside. It was massive and had arguably a better view than my own place did. There were no walls except for those around his bedroom, so I could see from the front door where we’d entered, through the kitchen and into the living room. It was covered in black leather furniture in various shades and it was obvious he’d paid someone to decorate because there was no way in hell someone as uptight and stuffy as Jeff Taylor had this much style.

  “You approve?”

  “It’s phenomenal,” I whispered as I crossed the room to the floor-to-ceiling windows to watch the cars zipping by beneath us. Downtempo music filled the room, coming from speakers I couldn’t see. I turned to find Taylor with his phone in his hand, wearing a devious smile.

  “Are you controlling that from your phone?” I asked.

  “Sure am,” he said, shaking it at me, his grin widening. “Nothing like some music to set the mood.”

  “Gross,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

  “What?”

  “Now I remember why I hated you,” I said and he looked taken aback. “You’re such an old man.”

  “Come here and I’ll show you how young I really am at heart,” he said, stepping toward me. Chills raced across my entire body as he approached, a look of hunger mixed with reckless abandon in his eyes that surprised and aroused me. Before I knew what was happening, his arms snaked around me and our noses touched. I smelled wine on his breath as he looked deep into my eyes, and I felt myself swell so fast it almost hurt. I wanted him to keep going and didn’t at the same time.