Auctioned to Him 7: The Contract

by Charlotte Byrd

  I totally agree with him.

  “I’ve never been a fan of coconuts before because of their strange aftertaste. Like all those coconut flakes they sell that everyone loves? You know what I mean?”

  “Yes. That aftertaste means it’s old. Dated.”

  “But this fresh coconut water…I just can’t get enough.” I drink the coconut dry and stop at another booth for second helpings.

  A few minutes later, we reach the end of Front Street. It runs straight into the water. Apparently, this is the end of the island.

  “This area is called the Split,” Aiden says. “You see that island across the way? In the 60’s, a big hurricane came through and blew this place in half.”

  I look across the water. It’s not a long way over, but it’s definitely not very close either. On the other side, by the mangroves, I see a bunch of kids swinging and jumping into the water.

  “No one really lives over there. They’re selling some lots as this place is getting more popular, but there aren’t any buildings there. No electricity, of course, or any other conveniences.”

  “So, how did those kids get over there?”

  “They swam.”

  I look at the Split and over at the kids and back again. Some of them are barely five years old and there are no adults in sight.

  “They must be great swimmers,” I point.

  “If you grow up around here, you kind of have to be,” Aiden says. “C’mon, let’s get a drink.”

  We walk over to the bar, right at the edge of the water, called the Lazy Lizard. it’s a big wooden structure with a bar top, bottled beer, and nothing but sand underneath the wooden barstools. I take off my flip-flops and bury my feet in the sand.

  “This feels nice.”

  Aiden gives me a kiss on the cheek. He hands me my beer and leads me to the dock at the Split. There are people sunbathing all around, with kids jumping into the water right from the dock. This part of the island doesn’t have a sandy beach and the water gets twenty feet deep right away. I find a spot on the dock, hang my feet off the side, and take a sip of the light Belizean beer called Belkin. The warm salt air seems to fill every part of me and makes me more awake than I ever was before.

  At this place, at the edge of a dock, on a small island in the middle of the Caribbean, the world seems to be entirely different. Time moves at a different pace and the pressures and realities of my old life simply vanish. After jumping in and swimming around in the warm water, Aiden and I come back up to sunbathe.

  “I have to tell you something,” Aiden says after we’ve been lying in the sun for who knows how long.

  “Hmmm,” I mumble, unable to move. I need to go back into the water, but I’m too hot to move. Aiden seems to be similarly relaxed.

  “My attorney got wind that Blake might not be working out.”

  This piques my attention. I ask him for the details, but he doesn’t really have many. There are rumors that Blake isn’t doing well as interim CEO, but they need a good reason to get rid of him.

  I can’t stand the heat anymore. I jump off the dock and submerge myself in the clear blue water. I’m a pretty good swimmer so treading water doesn’t take much effort for me.

  “Aiden, I was thinking, maybe it’s time I made a report about what happened. What Blake did to me.”

  Aiden dives off the dock.

  “What kind of report?” he asks when he comes back up.

  “Police report. I mean, it didn’t happen that long ago. And the main reason I didn’t do it before was that I was worried what would happen to your job if the auction thing came out. But now, it’s sort of out already.”

  “I don’t know, Ellie. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do it for me. Not at all. It needs to be entirely your decision.”

  “Is there any reason why you wouldn’t want me to go public with this?”

  “No.” Aiden shakes his head. “Frankly, I never wanted you to keep it quiet on my behalf. That guy is an asshole and pretty dangerous. I hate the fact that you felt like you needed to keep this quiet on my behalf. Fuck my career, if that means keeping a criminal like him off the streets.”

  I admire his passion. Of course, I doubt that he would get any jail time for what he did to me. He would get a great lawyer and so much time has passed that I’m not sure anything is provable anymore. But still, it might make things uncomfortable. Maybe, it will even get him kicked out of his job. I doubt that it will get Aiden his job back, but the world deserves to know that Blake is a sexual assaulter. He is someone who will take advantage of a woman in a vulnerable situation. He thought that by doing what he did where he did, I would be too embarrassed or ashamed to come forward. Well, perhaps I was, at first. But now that some of that story is out already, I have nothing to lose. I have a voice and I’m going to set the record straight.

  I swim around for a while mulling this over. When I climb back onto the dock, I’ve made up my mind.

  “I’m going to press charges when we get back,” I say. “I’m not letting him get away with this.”

  Chapter 8 - Aiden

  The island

  Over an early dinner of fresh fish and large island cocktails, I ask Ellie to clarify what she said earlier on the dock. The sun was beating down hard out there and I’m not entirely sure that I heard her correctly. Did she really say that she wanted go public with what Blake did to her? Go to the police?

  “Yes, I do. I wasn’t kidding,” Ellie says, burying her feet further in the sand under the bench. A soft cool breeze comes off the ocean, adding some zest to my already perfect ceviche.

  “I don’t want you to do it just for me,” I say. “It won’t change my situation at all.”

  “Oh, that’s not why,” she says. “I’ve just been reading the news and I’m really inspired by all of these women coming forward and calling their abusers out on all the shit that they have done to them. Frankly, I don’t really care if no one believes me. I just want it to be out in the open. I want him to be embarrassed over what he did. That’s the least that could happen to him.”

  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 9 - 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 outside 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 10 - 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 th
inks 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.