Extra Extra (Working Girl Series Book 1)

by CY Jones

  I tried. I really did, but my best wasn’t good enough. “Your best?” Sophia scoffs. “You didn’t give it your best. You just gave up. Look at us!” she screams in my head. “Wallowing in self-pity while you allow that asshole to win.” I want to ignore her words, but she won’t let me. None of them will. I can’t say I’ve spent this week totally alone when they have been the constant in my head, each one of them ganging up on me.

  “I have to agree with the princess,” Nancy comments, putting in her two cents. “You could have done more, but you just gave up. I’ve seen you chase after a scoop harder than you fought for Justin.”

  “What do you expect me to do? Kidnap Justin? He’s gone. He left us and I can’t say I blame him. He took a chance on us and I betrayed him,” I cry, sobbing even harder into my pillow.

  Arguments like this have been happening all week with the same outcome. Even the voices in my head cannot convince me to pull myself together and fight for the man we love. I’m doing him a favor by letting him go and I don’t get why they can’t understand that. Justin does not need us in his life. He should not have to face despicable people like The Turd and Nathaniel Bishop for someone who isn’t worthy to be in his light. “We expect you to fight. If you think you can’t do it, then one of us can take over for you,” Gloria threatens.

  “I like to see how far you’d get without me. Each one of you is good for the short term, control in spurts, but if any of you had complete control, you’d fold quicker than a deck of cards. Never forget it is I who runs this show,” I point out the obvious.

  “Yeah and you’re running us straight in the ground,” Nancy growls. She’s pissed. They all are. My words may be harsh, but it doesn’t make them any less true.

  “Shut up, Nancy. In fact, all of you shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!” I scream, childishly pressing my palms to my ears. I’m so tired of this argument. It’s the same thing over and over. For once in my life, I want to be left alone. I must have screamed out loud because seconds later, I hear thundering footsteps up the stairs before the door to my bedroom is thrown open.

  “Brooklyn, are you okay?” he asks, holding his hand to his heart, breathing hard.

  “I’m fine,” I fib. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “Who were you talking to?” he asks with narrow eyes, not believing me. I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t believe me either.

  “Just drop it, Chaz, it’s not important.” Sitting up, I plead with him with my eyes to listen. I rather not get into how crazy I am right now. He’s already worried about me because of Justin. Just think how he’d act if he knew about my many personalities and all the shouting was because we were having it out.

  “I wish you would talk to me. It’s been a week and all you have done is push me away. I’m worried about you, sugar buns.”

  “No need to be worried about me, Chaz. I’ve come to terms that I lost Justin. He left and he’s not coming back.”

  “He’s coming back, Brooklyn. He just needs time.”

  “Time,” I scoff, aware he called me by my name and not some cute nickname. He’s being serious, but the joke's on him because he’s wrong. Justin isn’t coming back.

  “So what now? Are you just going to give up? Stay in bed and wallow in misery like some pathetic pup left out in the rain? Even if Justin doesn’t return, are you going to let that ex of yours get his way? I may not have known you long, but I do know you’re not a quitter. Where is that spit fire I first met? The one that brought Justin Anderson to his knees and helped him slay his demons? I miss her and wish this miserable bitch in her place will get the hint and know she’s not welcomed here.”

  “I can move out,” I tell him.

  “You know that is not what I meant. Sugar buns, I love you, but right now, you’re not yourself and no Snickers bar will help get the old you back unless you get out this damn bed, take a shower, and go after it yourself. Fight for your man. If you can’t do that, then fight for you. Don’t let that fucker win.”

  “I wish it was that simple. I’m already fucked. Before you and Justin showed up at that disastrous dinner, that prick Nathaniel cornered me outside the restrooms and propositioned me to sleep with him, offering me a hundred grand. He said The Turd showed him the video.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  I scowl, giving him a ‘what do you think’ look. “Oh, fuck you, Chaz.”

  “Chill, sugar buns. I know you wouldn’t sell yourself. I want to know what you told him? Did he let on why your ex told him about you or was it all his idea?”

  “I don’t know whose idea it was or why he went to him. I wasn’t really thinking about the why’s because I was so mad. I basically told him it doesn’t matter how high he raises the number, I’d never sleep with him. Then after he told me he seen the video, I was too busy trying not to murder him and my ex and then Justin showed up. Truthfully, this is the first opportunity I had to process what went down.”

  “Your ex is a prick, but now I think I have an idea what he’s up to. Remember when we were in his office and I said I had a theory?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, sitting up.

  “I believe your ex has been looking for a way to get into The Gentlemen's Society. Those women on that list we saw, the ones with the names circled, I believe they are targets. A way in.”

  “I’m not following.” Standing, he paces the room like he’s gathering all his pieces to the puzzle in his mind and just now putting them together.

  “On his own, he would not be able to get in because he’s not from an old money family, but those women on the list are, and the three he circled are in his age range and most importantly, the most impressionable. Easy to work. What threw me off was you, because he’s gung-ho set to marry you, which doesn’t make sense. It still doesn’t make sense. In his own twisted way, he may actually love you.”

  “So what now? If he did get Rebecca pregnant, then what? Does he get to play in the club now because he’s a baby daddy?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. To achieve his objective, it would be easier to leave you and marry Rebecca. It makes sense since she’s a Fairchild. Her name will get him in the door. He already has Bishop’s attention, but why string you along? He’s still planning to marry you, not her. If this is his plan all along, he’s going about it ass backwards. But despite the crazy way he’s going about it, he’s getting what he wants. I could be wrong, but I think he may have offered you up as payment. It’s an unconventional way of going about it, but you must have intrigued Bishop to allow it, and to keep his daughter from being disgraced, I bet good money Fairchild is backing him.”

  “Backing him?” I question.

  “You need to be nominated to be considered. After that, the founders will take a vote. Having Bishop on his side is a huge tip in his favor.”

  “Nathaniel kept on saying everyone has a price. At the time, I thought he meant if he offered me enough money, I’d sleep with him, but he was talking about The Turd the whole time.” My eyes widen when realization hits. “Me, running off to LA and ignoring him had nothing to do with anything. He always meant to set me up and make that video so he could show Nathaniel.”

  I feel like I’m going to throw up. What if The Turd never crossed me? We would have still been together and I would have come back from my brother’s wedding none the wiser. All he would have to do is ask me and I would have pleasured myself in the kitchen, thinking it was some kind of kink The Turd wanted to try. Would he even have told me about the video or just went ahead with his plans with me fucking clueless?

  “So now what? Is he going to use the video to blackmail me into marrying him and fuck Nathaniel?”

  “It’s a possibility,” he answers honestly.

  “This is un-fucking-believeble. If this was his plan all along, then he has to know it’s flawed. I can put an end to all of this shit right now and just say fuck it. Do your worst and release the video. My name would be burned. No way would his father allow me to m
arry him and Nathaniel would want nothing to do with me.”

  “That’s all true, but how much do you love your career? He’s banking on the fact that you would never do anything to jeopardize it.”

  Fuck, he’s right. I hate that fucking bastard. What was I thinking when I got with him? Besides the video, he is the worst mistake in my life.

  “I’m in a lose-lose situation. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel for me. I had a spark of hope with Justin, but The Turd managed to ruin even that. I’ve lost, he won; I might as well face facts. Even if I was brave enough to torch my career, I could ruin Harrison and Paige and the life they built. I can’t put them in that position because of my bad decisions.”

  “Listen, sugar buns, you do not want to get in bed with Nathaniel Bishop; literally or figuratively. He’s dangerous, a blackhole that has no ending. It won’t be a one-time fuck. He will hold that video over you, using it to make you do things you don’t want to do. And what’s stopping him from sharing it? Sharing you? Your ex may not know what he’s getting himself into, but I’m here now, giving you full warning. He will destroy you in the worst of ways and that is a fate I wish for you to avoid. Both your brother and Paige love you. They’ll support you, no matter what and it goes without saying, you’ll always have me. Even Justin, if you stop being stubborn and go after his ass.”

  “Chaz, I can’t. I can’t do that to you guys. This is my cross to bear. I’m the one who misplaced my trust and fell for the wrong man. It should be only me who is punished. I’m not going to shit on my support just because I know they will be there for me. What kind of person would that make me?”

  “You’ll be someone with some sort of self-preservation and not the dumb bimbo who goes running in the woods alone.”

  “This was my mistake. I’ll be the one to pay the price.” I’m not going to budge. He can see my mind is made. I’m stubborn as a bull. Always have been and always will be. With a loud displeased sigh, he finally relents, at least for now, and I’m grateful.

  Off topic, he asks, “Do you have any plans to return to work?”

  “No, I’m thinking about turning in my two weeks notice. I’ve had enough of working there. I think I’ll be better off doing independent work.”

  “Then pack a bag. We’re going back to LA,” he announces.

  “What! Why?”

  “Sugar buns, you’re unhappy here. Time with your family is just the medicine you need. Let's trade in these cold winter flurries for some fun in the sun.”

  “What about The Turd?”

  “What about him?” he shrugs. “I’m sure he’s been blowing up your phone and you haven’t replied. You can do that in LA. All we’re doing is changing scenery.”

  He has a point. I think my main objection is if I go back with him, I’m likely to run into Justin and what would I say to him? 'Sorry I didn’t tell you in my emails that I’m still engaged to my ex.' Yeah, that would have went over just peachy. “You could always tell him the truth,” Sophia suggests.

  “Are you crazy? That’s even worse. This is our problem, not his. If I tell him the truth, he will make it his problem and who knows what The Turd will do. I believe Chaz when he said Nathaniel Bishop is dangerous.”

  “Fair point.”

  “So, California bound?” Chaz says hopefully.

  “Fuck, why not?”

  Less than an hour later, I’m packed and officially unemployed, having emailed my resignation to my boss. If everything goes as planned, I should have until Monday before The Turd finds out I quit and he’ll try to track my ass down. I can’t screen his calls forever. Christmas is right around the corner and he expects me to marry him, so I’ll have to speak to him before then. I may have given up and agreed to this farce, but I draw the line at planning it. Just give me the place and time and I will be there with a mouth full of lies as I say my vows. I’ll be his wife in name only until enough time passes and he realizes choosing me was a mistake and I can file for divorce.

  “Are you all set?” Chaz asks, taking my suitcase from me as I pull it down the stairs.

  “Yep,” I answer, popping the P.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? Because if you leave with me, I’m not bringing you back until D-day?”

  “D-day,” I chuckle. “You make my wedding day sound like it’s the end of the world.”

  “Well, isn’t it? You’re marrying a Superman reject instead of Prince Charming.”

  “You have a point. D-day it is then.”

  A few minutes later, our Uber ride honks and I grab my suitcase, pulling the door shut behind me and locking it. When I get back, I’ll have to discuss living arrangements because I definitely won’t be moving back in with The Turd and I will not be giving him my address either.

  I sit in the back of the SUV with Chaz. Once seated, he takes my hand with a pleased look on his perfect face. “While we’re in LA, you’re going to try to talk me out of marrying The Turd, aren’t you?”

  “Hell yeah, sugar buns. Unlike you, I don’t give up that easy,” he says with a wink to soften the blow. I squeeze his hand before turning my attention out the window where a sprinkle of snow flurries are starting to drift down, covering the ground in a sheet of white. It’s almost magical. It might be silly, but I close my eyes and wish for a Christmas miracle.

  16

  Wild Night

  Chaz arranged for us to fly first class, which I expected. Flying in style, we mostly stay silent, both of us lost in our heads. Despite the week I spent mostly in bed, I still slept most of the way back. My body was emotionally exhausted. I’m so sick of crying, I wouldn’t be surprised if my tear ducts didn’t work anymore. Even misery can be draining. The further away from New York we got, the more relaxed my body became, which made sleep a little less elusive.

  While on the plane, I thought about Justin a lot. I even dreamt I went straight to his house from the airport and begged him for forgiveness and he fucked the day lights out of me in the foyer. If I were to become a slave for anyone, it would be him. Too bad I’m not as brave as my dreamself, because when we finally do touch down in LA, I ride back with Chaz to his condo downtown. I rather not stay at my brother’s right now. Him and Paige are still in the honeymoon phase of their marriage and they do not need an unexpected visit from me. I’ll just give them a call tomorrow and let them know I’m here.

  “So, what’s on the agenda tonight?” I ask after I put my clothes away in the spare room.

  “We could go to my friend’s club. It’ll be popping tonight for sure.”

  “Okay, cool. I’m going to take a shower and get ready.”

  “Don’t you want to call your brother first and let him know you’re here?”

  “No. If I do that, he’ll expect me to stop by and I rather not deal with his big brother shit tonight. I need a day to build up my walls. Besides, I want to let loose and have fun. I can’t do that with my brother breathing down my neck.”

  “Okay,” he replies unsure.

  I take my time in the shower, thoroughly washing my body, trying my best to wash away my problems, which in itself is a ridiculous thought. It doesn’t matter how hard I scrub, they aren’t going anywhere. Ignoring them for now is my best bet. These next couple of weeks are going to be the best ones of my life. It’s the least I can do for myself knowing my impending future.

  Luckily, I had enough hindsight to pack a couple of dresses and put on a very short, very tight sparkly red sleeveless dress. Foundation covers the blotches on my skin from crying and the dark rings under my eyes from my restless nights. Carefully, I apply my mascara, lengthening my already long lashes, and with a surprisingly steady hand, I line my eyes with dark cat tips. After finishing the look with a bright red Mac lipstick called Cupid, I stare in the mirror, satisfied with the outcome. Tonight, I’m not looking to find anyone or hook up. I want to drink my fill and forget.

  After showering and getting dressed, Chaz does my hair, giving me a sexy beachy vibe I could never do on my o
wn. Doing hair is like second nature to him and he’s so talented. Grabbing his keys out of a crystal dish near the door, he leads me out the door to his bright red Ferrari. My body hums in appreciation as I sink into the luxurious leather seats. His car smells like him, but it also has that new car scent too. When he starts the engine, it purrs and he lets the top down, exposing us to the night air.

  “Are you ready for the night of your life?” His smile is contagious and I can’t help reveling in his enthusiasm.

  “Fuck yeah,” I call out and to prove it, I hold my fist in the air with a loud whoohoo as we cruise down the street.

  Right on the warehouse district of LA is Chaz’s friend club called Blue River. When we get there, it’s packed with a line wrapped all the way around the building. Parking the car, Chaz walks us straight up to the front, where the beefy looking bodyguard unclips the velvet rope and lets us through with no problem. Inside, the place is jumping, packed bodies bumping and grinding to an uptempo beat.

  Keeping my hand in his, Chaz navigates the club like a pro and leads me over to an all black modern style bar with sleek lines and waterfall sides. Pulling out one of the black stools, he motions for me to take a seat. “What’s your poison?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. What’s good here?”

  “Order your friend a Blue Lagoon. It’s tonight's special,” a deep voice purrs behind me. Turning my head, I’m nearly struck stupid by a handsome speciman of a man. Tall, dark, and yummylicious with stunning hazel eyes and perfect white teeth.

  “Daniel, my man, how have you been?” Chaz says, greeting the hot stranger.

  “Not as good as you apparently. Who is this stunning creature?” God, his voice is seductive. It makes me want to rub myself all over him like a cat.