by Mia Ford
“Get your ass to the hotel,” Martin finally said, sounding a bit calmer but still angry as hell. “We have a meeting with our lawyers to figure out how we’re going to fucking handle this.”
I didn’t want to meet with any lawyer. Right now, my mid was spinning. I was angry, pissed off that everyone was pissed off at me. A part of it was the lawsuit, but most of my anger was targeted towards Zoe. I couldn’t believe I was reliving it all over again. I wanted to turn around, go back to her apartment and continue fighting. I wanted to shout, blame her for everything that was happening, say things that would make her feel like shit. Make her feel the way I did right now. Then I wanted to take her into my arms and tell her it was all going to be okay.
“Fine, I’m on my way,” I said through clenched teeth. But Martin had already hung up.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Zoe
“You bastard.”
Mark’s face filled the entirety of my television screen. He was talking to the press, his nose covered in bandages, giving his fictitious accounting of the events of last night. He made it seem like he had been attacked out of the blue, that he had just been saying hello to a fellow writer and that Chad was some mentally unstable boyfriend. He was playing for the cameras, and doing such a good job of it that it made me sick.
“Damn it,” I sighed, wiping another tear from my cheek.
Ever since Chad had walked out, I had been trying to stop the waterworks. It took every bit of willpower, and then some, to not break down. I had turned on the TV, and when I saw Mark’s face on TMZ, I concentrated my anger towards him. It was the best thing I could do, because just thinking about how Chad had left, about how I had let him go again made me hate myself more than I hated Mark.
I regretted everything then.
I regretted ever having started up an affair with Mark, a married man who was more in love with himself than anyone else.
I regretted letting that bastard into my life, into my bed, between my legs.
I regretted talking myself into believing that Graham’s advice was the right thing to do. Push Chad away. Keep your head down. Lay low for a while.
I regretted it all.
And I blamed it on Mark. With every ounce of being inside me. I detested the smug bastard. I was glad Chad had slammed his face into that table. My final regret was that I had not had the guts to do so myself.
My cellphone rang. I sniffed and wiped another stray tear away, bracing myself when I saw Graham’s name on the screen. I tried to compose myself as much as possible, then answered, knowing he would probably see through my guise anyway.
“Are you near a TV?” Graham asked as soon as I answered.
“I’m watching him now,” I replied. “None of what he’s saying is true. He’s downplaying how much of an asshole he was.”
“Of course, he is,” Graham said. “He’s a lawyer, and he’s suing your boyfriend. Of course, he’s going to play dirty.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I choked.
There was silence on the other line.
“Graham?”
“You know, Zoe, I’ll always have your back, right?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“I met with the publisher this morning and made sure nothing changes in the way we treat you,” Graham said. “You’re just as valuable as Mark. Even more.”
“Thank you, Graham,” I replied. “I took your advice. I told Chad we couldn’t pursue anything. He’s leaving town.”
“Staying out of the spotlight is key, Zoe,” Graham said. “You don’t want your name tarnished in any way.”
“Sure,” I replied, focusing my emotions on the anger I felt for the bastard on TV.
“But you know, there’s a lot one can do even when they’re not in the spotlight.”
I frowned, looking away from the screen. “What do you mean?”
Graham chuckled. “You’re a smart girl,” he said. “Watch the TV. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
He hung up, and I stared at the phone for a few seconds before setting it on the couch beside me. What the hell did he mean? I thought he didn’t want me to get involved? And how the hell was I supposed to stay away from all this, but not at the same time? Nothing he said made any sense.
I turned back to the TV and turned up the volume. Mark had stepped aside, letting his wife talk to the cameras. I couldn’t believe he would stoop this low and bring his wife into it, but looking at her, those beautiful eyes, that innocent face, I realized that it was probably one of the best strategies he could use. The public was going to fall in love with her, and that would be it for Chad. The wife who demanded justice for her battered husband. The final nail in Chad Walters’ coffin.
My hands suddenly stopped shaking, and Graham’s words swirled in my head.
Of course.
How could I have been so stupid?
The solution to all our problems was on the TV screen, literally staring me in the face.
* * *
“What the fuck do you want?”
I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth and held my anger back. Hearing Mark’s voice over the phone only added to the anger I was feeling, and I had to control my temper if I wanted to do this right.
“I saw your little press performance,” I said. “I’m impressed.”
“Like I give a crap,” Mark shot back. “Your boyfriend’s going to file for bankruptcy by the time I’m through with him. Body by Chad will be Body by Mark. Just you wait and see.”
I actually smiled, picturing Mark standing next to Chad with their shirts off. There was no comparison.
“I’m going to need you to drop those charges, Mark,” I said. “By the end of the day.”
Mark laughed in my ear. “That’s fucking hilarious,” he said. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope,” I replied. “Deadly serious. Serious as a heart attack, in fact.”
“And why the hell would I do that?” he asked. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. Because you have a thing for the guy and he won’t fuck you while he’s being sued by your ex?”
“Are you my ex, Mark?” I asked.
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Of course I’m your ex, you dumb fucking cunt. You think I’m going to start fucking you again now and let this prick off the hook? Forget it. You were replaced ten minutes after I wiped the stink of your pussy off my dick the last time.”
“What happened to the forgiving man you were speaking of the other night?”
“That was before your Neanderthal fuck buddy slammed my face in a table and broke my nose.”
“Your nose? Or your pride?”
Mark took in a deep breath. I could almost hear his blood boiling. “Fuck you, Zoe, and don’t you ever fucking call me again?”
He was about to hang up when I said, “Then maybe I should talk to your wife.”
Silence. I got you now, you son of a bitch.
“What was her name? Deborah? Barbara? I can’t remember, I confuse her with all the other women you’ve cheated on her with.”
“Watch it, Zoe, or I’ll come after you, too,” Mark hissed, but I could tell I’d struck a nerve. You want to beat a cocksucker like Mark at his own game, hit him in the wallet. His wife would get half of everything if she divorced him. We both knew it.
“I’m not afraid of you, Mark,” I said. “If you don’t want your wife to find out about me, about us, you will drop this stupid law suit and crawl back into your fucking cave.”
Mark laughed, but it wasn’t genuine. “You have no proof. It would be your word against mine. And trust me, she’ll believe me. I can tell her the sky is red and she wouldn’t argue.”
“I think you’re underestimating her,” I replied. “But I have a feeling your wife won’t care that much about our affair because she’ll be having a field day in your bank account.”
A longer silence. I had him in the palm of my hands.
“I can always tell her about the nights we spent together, the bathroom fu
cks, the time at the park?” I continued. “I wonder what she’d say to that.”
“You can’t prove anything, you dirty bitch!”
I kept pushing. “Your wife seems like a sweet woman. Certainly, too good for a piece of shit like you. Maybe she just needs a little nudge in the right direction.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled. “You have a reputation to protect, too.”
“I could give two shits about my reputation,” I said, feeling totally in control with him for the first time. “And I do have proof.”
“What proof…”
“Oh, let’s see… that tiny mole right above the thing you call a cock? I wonder how you’re going to explain how I know about that. Or the birth mark just under your right ass cheek. Or the pictures of you and me in Vegas, time stamped for when you were supposed to be in Spain? Oh, and did I mention that I’ve been recording this call? Imagine how your wife will react when she hears you bragging about wiping the stink of my pussy off your cock and moving on to my replacement.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Mark almost yelled, miraculously keeping his voice down even though I knew I had him by the balls.
“No, you’re not,” I said. “But you are going to drop the charges, or so help me God, little Miss Sunshine is going to get a visit from me. She’ll have more than enough dirt to file for a divorce and take half of everything you’ve got.”
Silence.
“Drop the charges, Mark. Or I’ll come for you. And I’ll burn down your entire fucking life.”
I didn’t wait for an answer.
I didn’t have to.
Zoe Maxwell was in control.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Chad
“He’s dropping the lawsuit?” I frowned across the table at Martin, who had just gotten off the phone with my attorney. “Why the hell would he do that?”
Martin shrugged as he tucked his phone into his jacket. “His attorney said his client did not want the humiliation of a public trial,” Martin said, picking up his martini glass and holding it out for me to toast. I tapped the lip of the beer bottle to his glass.
“That makes no sense,” I said with the bottle to my lips.
“Don’t overthink it,” Martin said, licking gin from his lips. “The good news is, we can put this all behind us and get back on track with Body by Chad New York City.”
“Yeah, about that…” I reached into the computer bag at my feet and brought up a legal document I’d had my attorney draft without Martin’s knowledge. He narrowed his eyes at the document, recognizing it to be a legal document by the blue binder.
“What’s that?” he asked, the martini glass hovering at his mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said when the shit hit the fan the other day,” I said, giving him a serious look. “About how hard you’ve worked to help me build the business.” I slid the document toward him. “I just wanted you to know that I understand how hard you’ve worked and it has not gone unnoticed.”
“What is this?” he asked, taking a gulp of his drink before opening the folder. I watched him, drink in my hand, smiling as his eyes grew wide. He continued reading for a few seconds, flipping between pages, then looked up at me like a child opening his first gift on Christmas morning.
“Is this a joke?” he asked. “You’re making me a partner in the business. Jesus, Chad, thirty percent? Holy fuck…”
“It’s no joke,” I said. “You’ve had my back since the beginning, and I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m still in control, but we both know who really runs things.”
“This is too much, though,” he said. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you sick or something? Are you dying?”
“I’m not dying.”
“You’re clearly dying.”
“Martin,” I said, leaning in with a smile. “Sign the goddamn papers.”
Martin took a pen from his jacket and signed the document, then slid it back across the table to me. I tucked the document back into the computer back and held up my bottle. “Here’s to the future.”
“To the future,” Martin said. “And beyond.”
* * *
We finished our drinks and were walking out of the hotel bar when my cellphone rang. I pulled the phone from my jacket and frowned at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but very few people knew my cell, so I assumed it was a call I should take.
“Who’s that?” Martin asked.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. “You go on upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Okay, see you later,” he said. “And Chad… thanks.”
I smiled and brought the phone to my ear. “This is Chad.”
“Mr. Walters, my name is Graham Elliot. I work at Roland House Publishing.”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to set up a time to chat with you about possibly doing a series of fitness books for us,” he said. “And I have a message for you from our mutual friend, Zoe Maxwell.”
I frowned at the sound of her name. It had been two days since I’d seen Zoe and two seconds since I’d last thought of her. I braced myself for whatever was coming. “What about Zoe Maxwell?”
“Mr. Walters, are you familiar with Costa Rica?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Zoe
The sound of the waves made my mind drift, and I pushed back in my chair and closed my laptop. The sun beat down on my face and I closed my eyes, taking in the cool breeze and the smell of salt water in the air.
The distant sound of children playing mixed with the soft music coming from a radio on the beach, and the mix of sensations made me feel like I had finally found a small part of Heaven where I could probably live out the rest of my life.
Research for the new series was going great. For the past week, I had probably put in more writing than I had done in months while back at the city. I had no idea if this was what the publisher expected or not, but I was sure Roland House would be happy with the outcome. The cost of sending me to Costa Rica would be money well-spent if it meant I churned out an entire series of bestsellers set here in the islands.
I loved it here.
I might never go back to the NYC.
Graham had called that morning, and for the first ever, I lied to him about my progress. I made it sound like I had only finished half of what I had really done. He could probably tell that I didn’t want to go home. I felt I could maybe finish the outline for a second book while here, if I could maintain my momentum. And if not, who cared. No one was rushing me, and I was happy to soak in the beauty that I found myself in. If Roland House tired of paying the bills, I’d happily take them over myself.
A pair of warm lips pressed against the back of my left shoulder blade, and a strong hand that I had come to love ran down my arm. Goose bumps broke out across my skin, and I shuddered when the kisses continued along my back to my other shoulder blade. I sighed as my bikini bottoms grew wet and warm.
“I love how you can just make me gush by touching me,” I whispered.
“I have the magic touch,” Chad said, coming around to plant a soft kiss on my lips. He wiggled his fingers at me. “These are yours anytime you need them, to be placed or inserted anywhere you like.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied. “I’m so glad you caught me at the airport.”
“I’m so glad your pal Graham told me where to find you,” he said with a grin. He put his hands behind his head and tilted his brown face toward the sun. “This beats the fuck out of New York City.”
I gave him a smile and a soft sigh. I was glad Graham had told him where I was, too. I was totally shocked when Chad had caught up with me at the airport, ready to board, completely oblivious that he was standing in line right behind me. I had almost lost my shit when he tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see him smiling at me, holding up a ticket to Costa Rica. Honestly, Chad was a major part of the reason why I didn’t want to return to New York, but also part of the reason
I’d happily return.
“In fact, my magic fingers are not busy at the moment,” Chad said, leaning in for a kiss. His tongue slid between my lips. I moaned into his mouth. “Shall we go back to our room for a little afternoon delight?”
“I need to write,” I said, knowing my weak argument would not put him off for long.
“Come up to the room and let me give you something to write about,” he said. He leaned in closer and kissed my nick. His strong hands moved to my thighs. He pushed them apart and started inching his fingertips toward the soaking crotch of my bikini bottoms. I felt the breath catch in my throat.
“Chad, stop it,” I giggled, clenching my legs together to trap his hands. “We’re in public.”
I pulled the laptop onto my lap and spread my legs enough for his fingers to slid past the strap of bikini and into my pussy. He started fingering me right there on the beach, with dozens of people around.
“You… have to… stop…” I said, eyes closed, breath heavy.
“Then come to the room with me,” he said, his tongue in my ear.
“Fine…” I said as his finger slid in fully to the knuckle and began swirling around, then slowly in and out. “Just let me… finish writing… this scene… in my… head…”
EPILOGUE: Zoe
My bikini came off the minute we were through the hotel room door. Chad pressed his mouth to mine as he slid his swimsuit down his muscular legs. His cock was hard, had been hard from all the way down in the lobby where I could feel it pressed against my ass as we walked. I grabbed his cock and began pumping him, hard and quick, while his hands explored every inch of my sweat-soaked, tanned body.
“Chad!” I screamed when he picked me up and threw me onto the bed. I laughed and tried to roll away, but he grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me to him.
“Stop, wait, stop!” I giggled, but my laughter quickly turned to moans when his mouth found its way to my pussy and his tongue slid inside me. My toes curled, and my fingers immediately clutched his hair, pushing him down, begging for him to drive his tongue deeper inside me.
