Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series)

by Christina Ross

  “I don’t pretend to know much about this crowd. I came from nothing.”

  “So?”

  “I have nothing on these people.”

  “What does that even mean? Look around you. Most of what you see here is inherited money. These people don’t know their ass from their monthly stipends, which mostly were earned by their great grandfathers. Not them.”

  I didn’t know much about Henri personally. But he was being so caustic about those around him that I knew there had to be a reason. On the sly, he was telling me something about himself. I went with my gut instinct and decided to open that door. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I get the sense that you worked your way to the top. Did you?”

  “From the ground up. Just as you will.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Oh, we’ll see. All of us will see. You’ve got a light in your eyes. I know that light. I still have it myself. It’s called ‘determination.’ It’s called ‘Get the fuck out my way.’”

  I totally had misjudged him. I thought that because he was so wealthy that he was going to be arrogant and difficult. I thought the same of Peachy. But that was far from the case with both of them. And a lesson learned. “Where did you begin?” I asked.

  He held out his hands and then placed one over his heart. “As a poor child born to the streets of Paris.”

  I laughed at his charm. “I meant in business.”

  “Oh, that. Well, that’s a long story, so I’ll give you the abbreviated version. I worked hard, I got lucky, I kept working hard, I got screwed, I worked harder, I got lucky, I got sucker punched, I got screwed again, I was poor again, I pulled myself back up, I fought, I won, I lost, I won, and so on. I’m not being glib. That’s pretty much how it went. But with each failure, I learned. I absorbed what went wrong and I told myself I’d never be duped that way again. Most don’t analyze their failures or take the time to fathom why they happened. But they don’t get it. Understanding why they happened and not making the same mistake twice is the key.”

  He smiled at me. I was surprised by how likable he was. Maybe that was a major factor in his success—putting people at ease. The last time I saw him, he was seated in a gilded throne and people were coming to him en masse, practically kneeling at his feet. That night, it was as if he was a Christ-like figure. But now, after listening to him talk to me at my level, I had to wonder why he’d put on that kind of an outrageous show. Maybe that’s what people saw in him. Maybe that’s what they expected from him. Maybe that’s what he felt he needed to give to them. Who knew? Regardless, I was not expecting this person. He was open and kind in a culture that didn’t always embrace either.

  “I’ve been eager to see you tonight,” he said. “Especially when I learned that merging Streamed with Wenn Entertainment was your idea. It’s a brilliant idea.”

  “I think the possibilities are encouraging.”

  “To say the least. Ever since Alex approached me with the idea, my team has been doing research and we are beyond encouraged. If we move quickly, I think we have a chance to make an impact wherever Netflix and other competitors don’t yet have a stronghold.”

  “I did my own research and I agree. You already have the technology in place, which I believe is universal?”

  “With very few exceptions, it is. I’ve been told that getting it ready to go global would take my team of engineers and programmers only a few months, which is quick.”

  “Quicker than I expected. Wenn has the contacts that can help to ease your way into those countries where you might need assistance. Together, you and Wenn could join forces and, with each other’s assistance, build the necessary infrastructure to succeed. I don’t think it’s too late to have a successful go at this.”

  “Everything is going digital now. Netflix owns the States. Fine. Good for them. But really and as you know, it’s a global market. Turn to Apple, for instance. How does the world buy its music now? In stores? Of course not. And then we look at Amazon and see how they’re changing how we buy books. More and more people are buying them online for electronic reading devices or tablets. The States always will be ahead of the rest of the world, which gives us an edge. It gives us something of a litmus test for the rest of the world. Don’t you agree?”

  “I do. Why should we limit Streamed just to video? Why not music, television, and books? Amazon and Apple aren’t the mainstay everywhere. There are global opportunities that we must consider. There are areas that they still haven’t infiltrated. At least not according to my research, and I researched the hell out of it.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Even if we can only launch Streamed into a few key markets and become the market there, we win. I think Alex, you and I will make a great team.” He paused. “I heard what happened to Alex and you after my birthday party the other night. I’m sorry that happened. Is Alex all right? I heard he’s in the hospital.”

  “Was in the hospital. Just sprung.”

  I spun around at the familiar voice that came behind me to face Alex. I put my hand over my mouth in disbelief. He was in a tux. He was perfectly groomed. His face had been cleaned up—I saw only a hint of his abrasions through what must have been some skillfully applied makeup. Bernie and Blackwell, I thought. He winked at me.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said. “But you always do. Have there been many photos taken? I’m assuming there have been with you looking like that, love.”

  Before I could respond, he looked at Henri.

  “It’s good to see you, Henri.”

  I wanted to reach out and hold Alex, but that would be inappropriate in this situation, so I restrained myself. Instead, I reached out for his hand and squeezed it fiercely in my own. He responded in kind, and I could feel the heat pass between us. I was dizzy with relief. Alex was on his feet. He was dressed for the evening. At that moment, I was certain that I’d never be happier than I was then.

  Henri Dufort was no fool. He reached for Alex’s free hand and held it in his own. “You look well,” he said.

  “I feel well.”

  “And you’re in love. It’s obvious. We French—we feel the energy. It overcomes us. We know the importance. Business is important, but so is love. And you’re in love. You’re finally in love again, Alex. After all these years. And with this gem of a woman.”

  “I am.”

  “It’s fantastic. Go home and be with her. There’s no need to be here for me. Take her home with you. Be together. We’re not going to lose any time. Jennifer and I just had a meeting of the minds.” He nodded toward me. “By the way? This one? This one is smart. This one has sold me. This is the one I want to lead the project. You too, of course. But you have a lot on your plate, which I appreciate. So, I want this one on my team. She’ll make it happen. Don’t you agree?”

  “Absolutely. You’ll be in excellent hands with Jennifer.”

  “Then I’m fine for tonight. Right now, you two need to be together. Especially with you fresh out of the hospital and after what happened at my birthday party. Go on. I won’t be so kind when we meet in the next few days. I’ll want results and plans and strategies. But tonight it’s time to be human. I remember what new love felt like once, before my Claire died. And I can only imagine what you’ve been through these past few days. Peachy will find someone else to sit next to me. Look around—take your pick of who’d like to have a seat at that coveted table. In just a few words, Jennifer already has me excited for Streamed’s future. So, go.”

  “Henri,” Alex said, “I didn’t show up to stop the conversation.”

  Henri look at me and then at Alex. “What you two need to do is continue your own conversation.” He started to move away into the crowd, thus emphasizing his point. “We’ll meet soon. At Wenn. I’ll come to you because I know you’re still recovering. You know what I expect from you. Just lay it out for me. We’ll talk. We’ll laugh. We’ll conquer. We’ll go forward. I already feel happy and ready for the next steps, but we go forward wisely. My assistant w
ill be in touch with yours. C’est tout. Allons.”

  And Henri Dufort disappeared into the crowd.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When I turned to face Alex, he had that endearing grin on his face that I’d missed so much. It was the one he usually wore when we were headed to an event and—after being molded and transformed by Blackwell and Bernie—I’d take the elevator to meet him on his floor at Wenn.

  At that moment, I was aware that we were the center of attention. Yet, in an odd way, it felt like we were the only two in a room filled with hundreds of people. He was still holding my hand when he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. For a moment, his lips lingered there. Then he pressed his cheek against my hand and closed his eyes as if in relief.

  I’m in love with you, I thought while running my fingers through the side of his hair. Everything I worried about in the past is gone. You’re a good man, Alexander Wenn. I’m sorry for all of the walls I pushed up—they were a product of my fear. I regret all of it. I trust you, I’m in love with you, and I couldn’t be happier to finally be here with you.

  “How?” I asked him. “They said you were staying the night. How did you get out of the hospital?”

  He looked at me and shrugged. “I told them that I missed my girlfriend,” he said. “I said I might have a heart attack if I didn’t see her tonight. They considered that for a moment, and then they released me.”

  “Come with me,” I said. “Over here, where it’s more private.”

  I took his hand and led him through the crowds to the far left corner of the room where there were fewer people. I stood in front of him and pressed my back against the wall so no one could see me. With his back to the room, no one could see his face. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as discreet as we could be given the circumstances. I reached up and kissed him fleetingly on the lips because I knew that any sign of public affection was frowned upon within this society. But Alex didn’t seem to care. He leaned into my kiss and probed deeper. When we separated, it felt unnatural, kind of like a tearing away. I wanted to hold him in my arms, but this place was denying me that. I could see my frustration mirrored in his own expression.

  “We can’t do this here,” I said. “I know you’re hurt. I know we can’t be completely intimate tonight. But if we could just lie together on your sofa—”

  “We’re leaving. I’m making love to you. I’m fine.”

  “It’s too soon. I’m worried.”

  “My doctor gave me the golden pass. I’m good to go.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “The golden pass?”

  “That’s right. I’m a machine. I told my doctor my plans, and he told me not to go crazy. I asked him to define crazy. That stumped him. He checked my pulse again, and peered into my eyes with one of those lighted scopes. He apparently saw nothing of concern, so he released me. He said, ‘Go crazy.’”

  “You don’t know how relieved I am to have you here and to know that you’re well.”

  “Want to see how well?”

  He kissed me more passionately than he had before. He reached down and cupped my ass in his hand. He gripped it and squeezed it. I felt his tongue slip into my mouth. And when his stubble traced along the curve of my neck, I felt a moist warmth spread between my legs as my body tingled and became alive.

  I knew we shouldn’t be doing this here. I knew it was inappropriate and that some people would be offended and irritated, but Alex knew this crowd better than anyone, and he didn’t seem to care. When I whispered in his ear that we should go, he just sort of growled and kissed me harder.

  That’s when the explosions of lights went off.

  “Don’t stop there,” a familiar voice said. “This is your big moment, Bob. That’s right. Shoot away. Light them up. Capture their obscene little moment of mutual fireworks. Everybody’s been talking about it. But why leave their indiscretions just for us? Let’s photograph it for the entire city to see.”

  Due to the rapid flashes of lights, I couldn’t see who was talking. But I knew that voice—it belonged to Immaculata Almendarez, and it was clear from her tone that she was seething. I wanted to take her down for doing this to Alex. Nobody in this city knew who I was, but they certainly knew Alex. And what she was doing was trying to publicly humiliate him. To my surprise, Alex seemed unaffected by the commotion. He turned to the camera with such a look that the lights stopped flashing.

  “Hello, Immaculata,” Alex said.

  She didn’t respond.

  “So, suddenly you can’t speak?”

  Apparently, she couldn’t. She said nothing.

  He looked at the cameraman. “Fine, then. Let’s think of her as the world thinks of her—a nonexistent, unhappy, bitter drunk. I don’t know who you are, sir, but I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Jennifer Kent, whom I haven’t been with in a few days for reasons you might have read about. Or not. Either way, are you ready for your last shot? Because this will be your last shot. I can promise you that. But I won’t cheat you. We will give you a shot to remember. And then you can give it to whichever paper you’re working for.”

  “The Post, Mr. Wenn.”

  “So Page Six?”

  “This has Page Six written all over it.”

  “Actually, what’s about to happen has Page Six written all over it. Are you ready? And you, Immaculata? Are you ready?”

  “Go to hell, Alex.”

  “And spend the rest of eternity there with you? No thanks. I see no shame in having a moment with the woman I love. So, take the photo—if you can handle it. And by that, I mean both of you.”

  I noticed that Tank had moved beside the photographer. He towered over him in such a way that his sheer muscular girth and his broad shoulders had nudged a very pissed off Immaculata off to the side.

  Alex whispered in my ear. “Kiss me like you mean it, OK?”

  I bit my lower lip. “You’re wicked,” I said.

  “Just in love. Why not share it with the city? Some have been waiting for this day for too long. I want them to see how lucky I am.”

  “And how lucky I am.”

  He cocked his head at me when I said that, and then he very carefully wrapped his left arm around my waist and kissed me with such intensity that I barely was aware of the lights as they began to flash. Except for those in my head, of course. Those lights were going off in ways that were as wonderful as they were all consuming. I was lost in them and in him. When he pulled away from me, the cameraman stopped. I looked over and saw Tank beside him with his hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “Did you get your shot?” Alex asked.

  “I did, Mr. Wenn.”

  “Do me a favor, will you? There are two ways you can play this story. You can use one of the more salacious shots you got earlier with the help of Immaculata, and that will get a buzz. Or you can use one of the more romantic shots we just gave you. It’s no secret that the press in this city has been waiting four years for me to fall in love with another woman. Time and again, your own paper has asked when and if that will happen. So, why not answer that question with one of those shots? Because it has happened. If you choose that route, Jennifer and I will sit down for an interview with the Post after we get married.”

  “You’re getting married?” Immaculata asked.

  “I am if she’ll accept. But unlike you, Immaculata, I have respect for others. And I respect Jennifer too much to rush her. As soon as I know, I’ll let this fine young man and his paper know.” Alex turned to him. “That’s a promise, but only if you do us the courtesy of choosing the proper photographs. If an announcement is made, I’ll personally make sure that you’re the photographer who covers the interview. That should assist you in your career. Does that suit?”

  “What gets run is really up to my editors.”

  “I understand that. That’s why you need to tell them everything I just promised you, and sell it to them. My word is good. You and I both know how much my pending nuptials—if I’m lucky enough to earn them—are
worth in this city. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I hope to see you sooner than you think, if you catch my drift.”

  “She’s a lovely woman, Mr. Wenn.”

  “I appreciate that. And I’m a very lucky man, considering the quality of some of the women in this city, which is rather base. Consider the woman who brought you over to us tonight, for example. So, I hope to see you soon?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Take care, Bob.”

  As Tank led the man away, I heard him say, “Mr. Wenn remembered my name....”

  Immediately, Immaculata started to leave with them. Since I knew that if Alex put his hands on her, it would only lead to further bad press for him, I was the one who intervened and spun her around.

  She glared at me. “Get your hands off me, you stupid little bitch.”

  “Get out of here, Immaculata,” Alex said. “Get out of here now, or I swear you’ll regret it. I’ll have you blackballed.”

  “You don’t have what it takes to have me blackballed,” she said. “Since your silly cunt of a wife died, you’ve become a pathetic excuse of a man who is willing to settle for this slut.”

  A gasp went through the crowd.

  “You called his wife a what?” I asked.

  In defiance, she threw the glass of champagne she’d been holding in her hand into my face, causing another audible gasp to ripple among us. I now had every right to protect myself. With everything I had within me, I pulled back my hand and slapped her so hard across the face that she fell to the floor.

  “Police!” Immaculata screamed.

  “Best if we leave now,” Tank said, handing me his handkerchief.

  I patted my face dry, told Alex to stay back, and then leaned down and got in Immaculata’s face. “Fuck with either of us again, and I swear that’s just the beginning. Call his wife that name again, and I’ll beat the living shit out of you.”