by Mia Ford
I took a long hot shower and slipped into a robe and wrapped a towel around my wet hair. Coffee, my brain screamed. Need coffee… I tiptoed out of the bathroom, pausing to look at the gorgeous, naked man in my bed. His cock was outlined beneath the sheet. He had a little morning chub going now, hard but not quite hard to full glory. Again, I resisted the urge to climb on board. There was simply too much to do.
I made my way to the kitchen, quickly popped two aspirin to quell the headache and turned on the coffee maker. The sun pierced through the twin windows, lighting up the entire living room up in a soft glow that made me feel like taking out my laptop and writing. I was one of those writers who loved to write when the muse hit, which was usually late into the night. It was odd for me to be up this early, but it also felt good, really good, and I didn’t want to waste the chance to write in the morning sun.
My cellphone began to ring, and it took me a while to find it tucked between the couch cushions. I felt my heart sink when I realized what time it was, and that Graham had called me six times already.
That can’t be good.
“Hi, Graham?” I answered, heading back to the kitchen to get my coffee. “What’s up.”
“We have a small problem,” Graham said quietly, though I could sense the tension in his tone.
I frowned. No good morning. No how are you. Just straight to business. And from what I knew about Graham, straight to business usually meant that the small problem he was referring to was not a small problem at all.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hoping that the Costa Rica trip hadn’t been cancelled.
“How long will it take you to get over here?” Graham asked.
I felt a cold sweat wash over me. This was not good.
“I can get dressed and come right over,” I said, forgetting about my coffee and heading back to the bedroom. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll talk when you get here.”
He hung up before I could respond. Little alarm bells started ringing in my head. Graham was usually cool as a cucumber. I couldn’t help but think the worst. What could have happened that had Graham rattled so?
I quietly went into my walk-in closet and pulled on a pair of jeans and sneakers and a t-shirt. Chad stirred as I left the room, but when I looked over, he was still asleep. I didn’t have time to wake him up and explain where I was going, so I quickly grabbed a pen and paper and left him a note.
I was out of the door and headed uptown in less than ten minutes.
* * *
Graham’s secretary, Becky, was waiting for me in the lobby at Roland House Publishing. She ignored my questions and took my hand and practically pulled me past the security desk toward the elevators. I couldn’t help but notice that everyone in the lobby stared at us, some whispering, others just gawking. I wondered what the hell was going on.
“He’s waiting for you,” Becky said as we stepped from the elevator onto the sixth floor where Graham’s office was on executive row. She pushed me along and I had to skip to keep up with her haste. As soon as I was inside Graham’s office, she closed the door behind me.
Graham was sitting at his desk, looking at his laptop with a frown, his hands clenched under his chin.
“What the hell’s going on?” I asked, walking to his desk with my hands out, more than a little agitated. “Becky practically dragged me into the building and threw me into the elevator. Is the world coming to an end and nobody’s bothered to tell me?”
“You’re closer than you think,” Graham replied, turning his laptop so I could see the screen. He clicked on a YouTube video and adjusted the volume. My eyes shot went wide even before my brain told them to.
There was Chad in the middle of Vittorio’s, hovering over Mark, screaming at the maître d’ and waiters who were trying to stop him. Behind him, I saw myself racing out of the restaurant. The title of the video was, “Dirty Book Writer’s Dream Date Beats Down Innocent Dinner Guest”.
On the sidebar of similar videos were even more of the same, taken by other patrons from different angles. My name, along with Chad’s, was listed in the title of several of them.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled, sitting down heavily in one of the twin chairs placed in front of Graham’s desk. The video was on a loop, and I watched everything happen three times before looking away. I closed my eyes and let my head sink in my hands, suddenly understanding why everyone had been staring at me in the lobby.
“Graham, I’m so sorry,” I started, but he stopped me with his hand in the air between us.
“Your private life is none of my business,” Graham said formally, his voice far from the friendly, I’m-here-for-you attitude I had always gotten. “But when your private life becomes public, well, you become a reflection of this company, and right now, we look like shit.”
“I was having dinner with a friend and Mark –”
“With Chad Walters,” Graham cut in.
I nodded. “Yes, with Chad Walters. Mark just walked up and started making a scene. He was drunk and—”
“Making a scene? Whatever Mark was doing, it was definitely not making a scene. This…” Graham said, pointing at the video, “this is making a scene.”
“I didn’t know that was going to happen,” I said, weakly. “Mark kept pushing, saying awful things, Chad was simply protecting my honor.”
“That’ not good enough, Zoe.” Graham shook his head in frustration. “I can’t sell an excuse like that.”
“Sell it to who?”
“The publisher,” he said, hands in the air. “The big guy at the end of the hall who has to okay everything we do.”
I blinked at him with tears in my eyes. “You mean like the Costa Rica trip.”
“Yes. The Costa Rica trip. The contract for your next book. Whether or not to keep you under contract.”
“You’re saying…”
“I’m saying it could all go away,” he said with a heavy sigh. He shook his head at me as if I were a petulant child.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. I put my hands in my lap and kneaded my fingers together. “What can I do to fix this? What do you want me to say?”
“That you’re not purposefully trying to fuck up your life and career for starters,” Graham said, his tone walking the line between anger and frustration. “Jesus, Zoe, do you now realize how many people are affected by your actions? How could you be so fucking careless?”
“I was having dinner,” I said, wanting to yell but knowing it wouldn’t help. I was taken aback by his reaction, shocked, frowning in disbelief at his sudden outburst. Never in all the years I had known him had he spoken to me in such a way. If I hadn’t known he was gay I would have sworn that he was jealous.
“You’ve put me in a very difficult position,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. He took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly. It seemed to drain the anger from his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to explode at you.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, feeling lousy for putting him in the position of having to defend me to the publisher. “Honestly, I had no idea that was going to happen.”
“I know,” Graham sighed, ruffling his hair and leaning back in the chair to give me an apologetic smile. “I really am sorry,” he said, pursing his lips. “Who you see is none of my business. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
“Is this about Chad Walters,” I asked. “Are you upset that I went to dinner with him?”
“You’ve told me about him in the past,” Graham said with a shrug. “You just get out of this mess with Mark, then this guy shows up and all hell breaks loose. I just want what’s best for you, Zoe, and I don’t either of these assholes will do. You’re a great writer, but your taste in men is absolute crap.”
“That’s… sweet,” I said with a smile. “I guess. So, what happens now?”
“Now, we do damage control,” Graham said, blowing out his cheeks and leaning forward. “I know you were innocent in this mess, but you know this business. It�
��s all about public perception. I’ll meet with the PR folks and figure out the best spin. In the meantime, please, keep a low profile.” He saved a dismissive hand at the laptop. “And stay away from both of these assholes. They’re nothing but trouble and you know it.”
I would have no problem staying away from Mark. Chad, on the other hand, well, that might be an issue since I left him naked and hard in my bed.
“There is more bad news,” he said.
My eyebrows arched. “More? What could be worse than that?”
“I got a call from Mark this morning, just letting me know that he was filing suit against Chad Walters and you’d probably be named, as well.”
“What?” I gawked at him. “What did I do?”
“I think the term Mark used was ‘incitement’ or something to that effect.” Graham shook his head and gave me a tired look. “Basically, it means you incited Chad Walters to smash his face into the table. You started it and incited Chad to finish it.”
“That’s total bullshit,” I said. “I did no such thing. What the fuck, are we in high school here?”
“Mark also said that I, meaning Roland House, should stay out of it or he will find a new publisher.” He shook his head and held out his hands. “Like it or not, Mark’s spy books make this company a lot of money, so…”
“So, you need to stay out of it, I understand,” I said. I gritted my teeth and fought back the tears. “That son of a bitch. He told me he wasn’t finished with me. He said it would never be over until he said it was.”
Graham gave me a slow nod. “He’s not going anywhere because his contract is iron-clad,” he said. “But he can make things harder for you.”
“He can go fuck himself!” I said. “I’m not afraid of Mark. You can just roll over and play dead, but I’ll be damned if I will.”
Graham frowned at me. “Do you think I’m not taking your side?” he asked. “I know how much of an asshole Mark can be. But he’s a major asset to this company, and I’m outvoted here. Just lay low for a bit and—”
“I’m not going to be treated like a second-hand writer just because Mark sells more books,” I said. “I’ve earned Roland House a lot of money, and I’m not going to be shit on because of that son of a bitch.”
“I’m trying to help you here,” Graham said desperately.
“No, you’re not,” Zoe said. “You’re covering the company’s ass.”
“That’s not true.”
I knew my temper was getting the better of me, but I seemed to have lost the ability to keep my mouth shut. I gritted my teeth and wagged a finger at him. “Graham, you’ve always been a friend to me, and I can’t hide the fact that what happened last night is not going to wash over easily.” I paused, taking in a deep breath. “But I’m not going to keep getting walked over just because everyone thinks I’m some airhead who writes porn.”
“What?” He huffed at me. “Who said anything like that?”
I thought about it. “Well, fuck, Graham.” I plucked several tissues from a box on the desk and dried my eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck. And it started out such a good day.”
Graham softened his tone. “Look, just keep your distance from Mark and Chad Walters, at least for the time being. Just give me time to work this out.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a shuddering breath. “I won’t see Mark or Chad again.” I smiled and he seemed satisfied with the lie. I took a moment to compose myself, pecked him on the cheek, then headed home, wondering if Chad would still be there.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Chad
“Chad? Chad, wake up.”
I woke up with a groan to the sound of Zoe’s voice. I stretched out my arms and legs and looked up at Zoe through sleepy eyes. I smacked my lips and smiled back at her.
“Morning,” I said, my voice hoarse. There was a drum beating in my head that made me wince. “What did you do to me last night? I think I’m going to need a pot coffee before I’m good for anything.”
“There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen,” Zoe said. It was then that I noticed she was fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Where are you off to so early in the morning?” I asked, reaching for her.
“It’s almost two in the afternoon,” she said, pulling away. “I’ve been out to a meeting with my publisher. Just got back.”
I felt a pulsing between my legs and looked down at my morning wood pupping like a tent under the sheet. I kicked off the sheet and took my cock in my hand and gave it a good morning squeeze. I wiggled my eyebrows at Zoe and smiled. “Looks like I’m not the only one happy to see you. Why don’t you get undressed and climb on board?”
Her smile faltered. Her expression told me something was wrong. Oh fuck, here we go again. I was about to get kicked out of her life all over again.
“What’s the problem?” I asked, suddenly shy, pulling the sheet back over my withering cock.
“I’ll pour us coffee in the kitchen.” She got off the bed and moved to the door. “Get dress and come out. We need to talk.”
I frowned. I hated those words. Nothing good ever came after those four words. Not to mention the way she said it sounded extremely familiar, and I could see from the way she nervously played with her hands that needing to talk was going to ruin my day. I sighed and sat up in bed, my hard-on now a distant memory.
“What is it? Just tell me”
She shook her head and stood up. “Get dressed,” she said. “I can’t take you seriously like that.”
I didn’t want to be taken fucking seriously. I wanted answers, and at the same time I didn’t want a replay of what had happened years ago. Last night had been incredible. I had never experienced anything like it after she had left me, and I wanted more. A part of me believed there could be more, and just thinking about what she wanted to talk about me left me frustrated.
I took my time, showered for longer than I needed, and tried to cool off. This was a conversation I didn’t want to have. Not now. Especially not after last night.
I found her in the living room, drinking her own mug of coffee and gesturing to mine at the kitchen counter. I took a sip, then a longer one, and silently wished my headache away. I wanted to be clear for this. I sat down on the couch opposite her, already anticipating what was coming.
“Is this the part where you tell me what an awful mistake last night was?” I asked, setting my mug down and looking her in the eye.
She looked away. “Stop that.”
“No, really, because if it is, then I’ve heard it all before,” I said, feeling the anger rising inside me before I could hold it back. “I have to admit, though, it’s a lot quicker this time around. Just one night. Not bad.”
“Chad, that’s not what this is.”
“Then what is this?”
She put her mug down next to mine and bit her lower lip, a sure sign that she had no idea how to tell me whatever it was she wanted to tell me. “I got some news this morning,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “Not very good news. Horrible news, actually.”
I waited, a part of me already scoffing at whatever excuse she was going to throw at me this time. I suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Stupid for letting my guard down. Stupid for thinking this might have gone somewhere, that we could have picked up where we last left of. Stupid for even trying to rehash the past.
You should have just stuck with the easy lays, man.
“Your fight with Mark… It’s all over the internet,” she said.
“It wasn’t really a fight,” I said smartly. “It was more of his face hitting a table.”
“Please, this isn’t funny,” she said. “My publisher called me in this morning. Mark is also their author. He makes them a lot of money. There could be complications.”
I frowned. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about what happened last night going viral, but I wasn’t the first person to get into a fight in public and have his face all over the internet. I patted my pants for my phone, knowing that Martin had probably already worked up a shi
t storm and was ready to bombard me with a load of crap I didn’t want to deal with. Besides, no publicity is bad publicity. Wasn’t that the saying?
“Mark’s trying to press his weight with the publishers,” Zoe continued. “He may try to get them to break my contract.”
“That’s bullshit,” I replied, clenching my fists. I was already imagining that bastard’s face in front of me. “They can’t do that anyway. You can sue them. Surely you have a contract.”
Zoe shook her head. “They won’t do break my contract,” she said. “But they are insisting that I stay out of whatever Mark throws at you.”
“Me?” I blinked at her. “What could the fucker to do me?”
She glanced up at me, and for a split second, I thought I could see tears in her eyes. They were gone just as fast when she turned away and reached for her mug again.
“Mark’s suing you, Chad,” Zoe said. “And he’s threatening to sue me, too. The publishers can convince Mark to leave me out of it, as long as I steer away from the spotlight on the lawsuit.”
“What?” I barked, confused as hell. Too much information in one sentence, and my headache wasn’t helping. I glanced at my voicemail. There were a dozen calls from Martin. Bad publicity was one thing, but a lawsuit? That could ruin everything. It was definitely going to screw up any plans of opening in New York. I didn’t even register the rest of what she said.
“That son of a bitch,” I hissed. I let my eyes come up to hers. “So, what does this mean for us? You and me?”
Zoe took a sip from her coffee and gave me a pitiful look. “I’m sorry, Chad, I just can’t do this. Not now. Not with a new book coming up. I have to be on Costa Rica in a week, and if Mark plays dirty, the publisher might just ground me to pacify him.”
“To pacify him?” I asked, looking at her as if she were crazy. “What about you? I thought you were a big shot author? How about pacifying you?”
