I doubt that he will be embarrassed, but at least he will be uncomfortable. I am almost one hundred percent positive that he will deny that any of that ever happened and try to start a smear campaign against me and what happened at the auction on my yacht. Oh, well. If this is what Ellie wants to do, I’m going to support her. Frankly, she should’ve done this originally. I shouldn’t have let her cover up his crime on my account and I feel like a total shit for even entertaining the notion.
“So, how do I do this?” Ellie asks. “I mean, where do I start? Do I go straight to the police?”
“I don’t really know. But it’s probably best to contact an attorney first. See what they say.”
“I don’t know any attorneys.”
“Feel free to use any of mine. God knows I have enough. We’ll see what they say and then maybe make a statement through them. I think they can contact the police on your behalf but you will have to talk to the cops directly as well. I don’t think you’ll get away with just a statement since you’re planning on pressing charges.”
“That’s okay, I sort of expected that.”
My phone rings. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I had turned it off.”
It’s sitting on the bench in between us and Ellie looks down at the screen.
“Leslie PR,” she reads the name that flashes on the screen. “Is she your public relations person?”
I nod.
“Do you mind if I talk to her?”
I shrug. Wow, she’s more serious about this than I had thought.
Ellie picks up the phone, puts Leslie on speaker, and introduces herself. Without letting Leslie get a word in edgewise - and trust me, that’s a pretty hard thing to do - she goes into the story about Blake and what happened back at the yacht. It covers it pretty succinctly, using big brushstrokes, but without leaving any of the important details out. At the end, she tells her that she has talked it over with me and she would like to press charges.
“Really, Aiden?” Leslie asks. “Is this really happening?”
Her voice is a little bit more elated than it probably should be, given the topic of the conversation, but Leslie can’t help but be excited about the latest gossip. And knowing ahead of time that Blake Garrison, the CEO of Owl, is being accused of sexual assault is as juicy as it gets.
“Yes, unfortunately it is.”
“Well, I do wish that you had told me about this sooner, but I understand why you didn’t. You are just like the rest of my clients.”
“Before the Page Six article came out, I thought I could just let this go,” Ellie explains. “Having an auction on your yacht isn’t exactly acceptable behavior for someone who runs a Fortune 500 company, even though my readers seem to be really into the concept.”
“So, everything in that article is true?”
“Yes.” Ellie nods even though Leslie can’t see her. “But now that so many other stories about women who have been assaulted are coming forward and telling the world about them being assaulted, I don’t want to keep this quiet anymore. That man needs to pay for what he has done. I’m not going to be complicit in lying to the world on his behalf. No matter what it costs me.”
I squeeze Ellie’s hand. Her bravery is awe-inspiring. Imagining what Blake did to her on the yacht, the way he took advantage of her, sends hatred coursing through my veins. I hate him. I despise him with every fiber of my being. I want to see him burn. Now I know how incredibly selfish I was in even letting her keep this quiet on my behalf. I didn’t ask her to and I would’ve never asked her not to go to the police, but I didn’t exactly encourage her to come forward. I let her hide away. I let Blake’s horrible deed stay quiet. I helped him bury it and, for that, I will not be able to forgive myself for a very long time.
“So, what do you recommend we do now?” I ask.
Leslie thinks about it for a moment.
“Since you are set on pressing charges, I recommend you, Ellie, file a police report as soon as possible. And retain an attorney.”
I thank her for her time and promise to get in touch soon. She will be the first to know when Ellie is ready to go public with this so that she can use her public relations magic to get the story told right.
“As soon as Blake finds out about this, his people will start an all-out smear campaign against you, Ellie, and Aiden. They will publish the worst things you can imagine about both of you individually and as a couple. I just want you to be ready for that. I need you to prepare yourselves psychologically for that,” Leslie warns.
“We’ll be ready,” Ellie says confidently.
“I will do my best to get ahead of whatever stories that they may come up with, but I want you both to be prepared that there will be stories about you. Discrediting you will be the only way that he can wrangle himself out of this.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle this?” I ask Ellie after she hangs up the phone.
“Yes.”
“To take on Blake? And his public relations smear team?”
“Yes. Don’t you think I can handle this?”
“Of course, I do. I just wish I could protect you from all the shit that they’re going to pile on you. But I don’t think I will be able to.”
“I’m a big girl, Aiden.”
“Yes, I know that. But still, I’m not sure you will be prepared for this. I’m not sure I will either.”
I give her a brief peck on the lips. I want to protect her from everything bad that the world will throw at her, but I know that I can’t.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Ellie says, finishing her drink. “I want to have another cocktail, take a walk along the beach with you, and then take you back to your yacht.”
The tone in her voice indicates that she has something sultry in mind for tonight.
“Oh, really?” I ask.
She nods and licks her lips in a sensual way that makes my cock get hard.
Chapter 11 - Ellie
Back in his bedroom…
After a long stroll under the moonlight with our flip-flops in our hands, Aiden takes me back to his yacht. The island is small, with a population of less than two thousand people, the majority of whom go to bed by ten o’clock at night. There are no wild parties and even the couple of bars that do exist tend to close early. As we walk back to the boat, it feels like we have the whole island to ourselves.
“I love it here,” I say. “Though to tell you the truth, I was expecting it to be a little bit more hopping at night.”
“Oh, that’s the funny part about this place. Since everyone wakes up so early to build lobster pods and go fishing or diving, all the locals tend to retire to bed pretty early. But they are up early as well.”
“How early?” I ask.
“Like six. Sometimes five-thirty.”
“That’s insane!”
“Well, not if you’re in bed by eleven.”
I shake my head. Unlike most people my age, I require a lot of sleep. And by that, I mean a lot. Like nine or ten hours a night. I used to think I needed that much sleep because I was depressed, but I’ve been this way almost my whole life, so I got pretty used to it.
“So, they don’t consider getting up at eight-thirty early in these parts?” I ask, squeezing his hand. Aiden, who is well-familiar with my nighttime habits, shakes his head and laughs.
He leads me down the dock and onto the yacht. He told the staff that there was no need to wait up for us and we head straight to the master suite. We haven’t discussed it much after we talked to Leslie, but I know that I have to make the police report sometime soon and that means that I have to go back to New York. Perhaps even as early as tomorrow. And even if we don’t head back right away, I will probably have to have an extensive conversation with one or more of his attorneys tomorrow so that they can start the ball rolling on this whole thing. At this moment, I suddenly wish that none of this was happening anymore. I just want to stay in Caye Caulker forever, or at least for a month or two and pretend that no world outsid
e of this little limestone island off the coast of Central America exists.
“One last thought about this whole pressing charges thing,” Aiden says. “Please don’t be pressured to move forward with this any sooner than you feel like you want to. There’s absolutely no rush.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. But the sooner I get this ball rolling, the sooner it will be over, right?”
Aiden shrugs. “I guess, in theory. But, in reality? Who the hell knows?”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight,” I say, sitting down on the bed. “I just want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, really?” he asks. I clearly caught him off guard.
“Yes, please.”
Chapter 12 - Ellie
When we take a quick trip back…
In the morning, Aiden puts me on the phone with two of his attorneys and I tell them what Blake did to me during the party. They take careful notes and ask me about a zillion questions. They also develop a plan of action. They ask when is the soonest that I can come back to New York and file a police report. I need to put all of this on record before they can proceed with filing charges. Since it didn’t happen that long ago, there’s still time to press criminal charges before going after him civilly. This is the best course of action, according to the attorneys. They don’t say this, but I know that this will also likely confirm his firing as the interim CEO of Owl. If the Board of Directors isn’t happy with him now, they definitely won’t be happy with this turn of events. This isn’t exactly why I’m so eager to file a report against Blake, but it’s definitely a cherry on top. He took my boyfriend’s job and I like having the power to oust him from that position, or at least do something to contribute to the firing.
Over breakfast, Aiden and I decide that the best thing to do now would be to just go back to New York. With his access to a helicopter and a private plane, we aren’t subject to regular flight schedules and Aiden thinks that we can file a report, brief the attorneys, and get back to sitting with our feet in the sand and cocktails in our hands on Caye Caulker within twenty-four hours. That seems like wishful thinking to me, but I’m definitely hoping to be back in forty-eight hours.
The flights back to New York are rather uneventful. I ask Aiden to stay behind and enjoy his yacht, but he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. He wants to be there to hold my hand and I appreciate it. The closer we get to New York, the more freaked out I get over going to the police station and making a report. Somehow, in the middle of the Caribbean, this whole situation didn’t seem quite as real as it does when we land back on the ground.
We head straight from the airport to the police precinct. Thanks to Aiden’s attorneys, the cops there are aware of our coming and are prepared for us. They take me back to a special room, tell me that the video camera is on, and ask me to make a statement. The room doesn’t have one of those two-way mirrors I’ve seen in the movies. But it is just as claustrophobic, windowless, and bland as I expected. There isn’t one interesting thing to look at on the walls. They are completely bare. I sit behind a plain dark wood table on one of the most uncomfortable chairs I’ve ever had the displeasure of using.
I point this out to the cop, and tell him that they remind me of the kind of chair I had my freshman year at Yale, but he doesn’t really commiserate. Instead, he asks me to start at the beginning. How I got to the party? What was actually taking place at the auction? I nod and say that I will as soon as my attorney gets here.
Aiden and I have talked this over. This is quite sensitive information, as you can imagine. The idea that someone is hosting an auction of attractive girls off the coast of New York isn’t exactly something that isn’t going to pique the police’s interest. But Aiden insisted that I need to tell them everything. That’s the only way that my name, which will undoubtedly be speared anyway, won’t be able to be badmouthed completely.
“I have to tell them the truth,” he said.
“But wouldn’t that make what you were doing…illegal?”
“No, not necessarily.”
“Of course, it will. I mean, there was an exchange. These men are paying for sex and you’re orchestrating the whole thing.”
We had to turn to his attorney to settle the argument. He said that I would have to use very specific language to not make it prostitution and that I was not to utter a single world without his presence.
There’s a knock at the door. When the cop answers, an attractive guy in his late thirties comes in wearing an immaculate suit and carrying an expensive looking briefcase. Everything about him is polished, from his $400 haircut down to his $700 shoes. He introduces himself as Neil Goss, my attorney. So, this was the guy we talked to on the phone last night. Hmm. Really didn’t expect him to be so easy on the eyes.
Officer Lindon shakes his hand and gives him a seat at the table. Then he excuses himself to get another chair.
“Are you ready?” Neil asks.
“I think so.”
“Just say what we practiced this morning. If you have any doubts about what you should or shouldn’t say, don’t say a word and confirm it with me.”
When Officer Lindon returns, I start at the beginning. I start with my roommate, Caroline, inviting me to a yacht party - the first time I met Aiden. The cop asks me all sorts of questions about the boat and how I got there prior to getting to the auction. He’s warming me up and it’s working. My words flow a little bit smoother and I relax a bit. Finally, it’s time to describe the auction. I look over at Neil, who gets a little tense in between his shoulders but otherwise covers up his discomfort very well. Without further ado, I dive right in and explain it, just as we had practiced it earlier.
“So, these women are basically getting sold to the highest bidder?” Officer Lindon asks. He’s trying to throw me off, sidetrack me. But I won’t let him.
“No, the bidding is just for fun. The men pay money to basically meet the girls and spend time with them. But sex isn’t part of the exchange.”
“So, you and the other girls didn’t have sex with the men who bid on you?”
“My client does not have any knowledge about what the other women at the party did or did not do afterward,” Neil interrupts.
“Okay, what about you, Ellie?”
“Well, yes, Aiden and I were intimate. But it had nothing to do with the money.”
“No?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not a prostitute. The auction was just a fancy introduction service. It’s really a way for rich powerful men to show off how much money they can spend on a hot girl. But there’s no required reciprocity. If any of the women did have sex with the men who bid on them, they did it purely because they wanted to. Just like me.”
Officer Lindon doesn’t entirely buy this. But I try to steer the conversation to my second trip to the yacht and what Blake did. I’m not the one who is on trial here. I’m a victim. Luckily, Lindon doesn’t object.
Five hours later, I’m finally free to go. After explaining the whole situation in detail and getting it all on tape, Officer Lindon asked me to write down my complaint and sign it as well. Prior to signing, Neil carefully read all five pages of my complaint against Blake, scrutinizing each word. In a few instances, he asked me to change a few words - to be more vague - and in a few, he asked me to be more precise.
“I had no idea that words were so important in your profession,” I say, signing each page of my statement.
“Words are everything. Or rather the way that words are interpreted. What else is there, right?”
That’s a nice way to think about it. I’ve been conditioned to think that being an English major was a pretty useless degree, but not to Neil. All English majors do is analyze text and words and apparently, that’s all Neil does in his job as well.
After we hand over my statement, I’m free to go. Aiden meets us on the curb in his car. He’s going to make his statement tomorrow. Even though it’s dark already, Neil refuses a ride and instead hails a cab. I bid him fa
rewell and climb into Aiden’s car.
“How did it go?”
“Long. I’m so tired.”
“I can imagine.”
“Be prepared for a very tedious examination.”
Aiden nods and squeezes my hand. We are planning on taking off right after Aiden gives his statement tomorrow. Neither of us want to hang around New York when the story breaks and becomes news, which it will undoubtedly become with Leslie on our side. Everything else can be handled through lawyers and public relations executives. If there’s a trial then we will both come back, prepare, and testify, but until then, there’s no reason to hang around here.
“I can’t wait to get back to Caye Caulker,” I whisper when he pulls up to my apartment. I’m going to stay at my place tonight. Aiden’s meeting with the cops early tomorrow morning and he’s going to pick me up as soon as he’s done so we can head back down to the Caribbean.
“Me neither,” he says, stopping the car at the curb and giving me a big kiss on the lips.
“See you tomorrow,” I say and get out.
Chapter 13 - Ellie
When we take a quick trip back…
Riding up the elevator, I’m excited to see Caroline again. I feel bad about how I left things and I hope she didn’t go to her parents’ yet. I’d love to have a fun evening watching something funny. I unlock the door and call her name. No answer. Shit. I guess she left already. I drop my bag on the floor in front of the kitchen island and knock on her bedroom door. No answer again.
I turn the knob slowly. I don’t want to wake her in case she’s sleeping.
When I open the door, I immediately feel like something’s wrong. I see her lying spread-eagle on her back on top of the covers. She’s wearing her pajamas and her arms and legs are spread wide open. She looks as if she might be asleep, but I’ve never seen her sleep that way before.
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