by Aven Jayce
I let the engine run for a few minutes and search my phone for the address. Market Street. Close to here.
It takes five minutes to drive to the building and find a place to park. I’m not going to sit and wait for Haverty so I send him a text to meet me inside. Kaitlyn Moore’s office, tenth floor.
My hand shakes as I put my phone away. I’m pissed at her, and I don’t even know why. I only met the woman twice. She came into the Scarlett one afternoon and had information for advertisement packages for the newspaper. Why the fuck was she there and not someone from the marketing and advertising team of The Tribune? And do papers even solicit businesses like that? Show up at their door? What a dumbfuck I am for not thinking about it at the time. Damn, it should have raised an immediate red flag. I ended up calling her and she asked me to come over to her office, where she told me the story of her daughter. I felt sorry for her, and her kid, and it seemed like a good deal; I got something for free and a new employee on top of that. Maybe I should turn around and talk to Ivy first, ask her what she knows, but it wasn’t hers; her mother had the article and I want to know why. I’m suspicious; I don’t understand how I slipped up, oh yeah. Jesus. That’s why. The woman that stands before me is charming, a sweet talker and has an even sweeter...
“Cove! It’s so good to see you this morning. My goodness you look absolutely smashing in that ball cap. What a doll you are. Come into my office and chat with me, tell me what I can do for you.” She kisses my cheek with a smile that’s contagious. Her office staff gazes up and I nod to the group. “Chloe, get us some tea, would you?”
“No, I’m fine.” I respond. “I just need to speak with you about something.”
“Very well then, follow me,” she winks and does a quick turn in two-inch heels, her tight Jennifer Lopez ass swinging as she walks. If Soph saw my eyes peering down at it she’d punch me in the nuts. I love my wife, I’d never cheat on her, but everyone fantasizes about being with somebody else, especially when it’s shoved in one’s face. Yeah, the bitch is handing it to me on a platter, only I’m not hungry. Though, I have to admit after first seeing that ass I thought of it while jerking off. I try to think about Soph most of the time, but I can’t control my thoughts when my hand is on my dick. It just happens. That’s not unhealthy, is it?
“Have a seat. Tell me what I can do for you, sweetie-pie.”
I can’t believe this woman’s in charge of a company. Maybe it’s my lack of wit, and not to use a girly term, but like Soph says, I never sparkle at our business and I’m not bubbly. It’s true, I don’t have the greatest sense of humor, I’m not the type to walk into the Scarlett and give my employees a hug or throw any of them a birthday party. I’ve been too angry most of my life, and to be honest, I don’t give a fuck about things like that, but Kaitlyn’s another extreme. The complete opposite of me, and more than a sparkle, she’s a fucking roman candle.
She rests her ass on her desk and crosses her bare legs. Her hand reaches into her low cut white silk blouse and she adjusts her bra, something I wish more women would do in public. My first thought is to join her, reach down and relocate, change positions, mix things up a bit, but I hold back.
“Your daughter... Ivy... I was wondering...”
“Oh shoot, she didn’t steal anything from you, did she? Whatever it is, I’ll pay you back. I’m so sorry, Cove.”
“No, she didn’t steal from us. But she did come in with an article about Sophia’s father, and I want to know why you had it.”
“What makes you think it’s mine?” she asks in a switch from an animated voice to one of tranquility. Interesting that she didn’t say, what article, or I don’t know what you’re talking about.
“Ivy said she found it among your things, in your home.”
“Probably looking for money again, I’m sure. When did she receive her last paycheck?”
I’d like to tell her to cut the bullshit, but I keep calm. “Can you answer my question?”
“My daughter says a lot of things, many of which may or may not be true. She’s known for her dishonesty. Case in point, she was stealing from me again. God, I just don’t know what to do with that girl anymore. But she’s an adult, right? Not a little girl. I should just let her be, she’ll learn on her own if she gets arrested. Oh shoot, I’m so sorry if she’s causing problems.”
I glare into her eyes, staring, waiting. Her lips quiver as she tries to smile. What’s she hiding? She’s focused on my hat instead of my face. I take it off and run my fingers through my hair, trying to fix the greasy dark strands. I must look awful; I didn’t shower yesterday before we traveled, and I haven’t yet this morning. I smell of alcohol and sweaty sex. She watches me, my foot on my upper thigh, the hat now hanging off my knee, my fingers interlaced, hands on my stomach... waiting.
Haverty is led in by one of the office staff and he quietly takes the seat next to me, not saying a word.
“My business and family bodyguard,” I gesture in his direction.
“Bodyguard? Why? I’ve heard such wonderful things about your family and the Scarlett, that it’s sophisticated and ritzy, superior to the other bars in the city. That’s what I saw when I stopped by that day as well. Do I need to worry about my daughter when she’s there?”
I wish she would cut the crap. “If you have an article about Paul Jameson, then you know why I hired him.”
“Paul Jameson’s dead,” she says.
“Yes, seems like everyone knows that, right? Big news?”
Her smile is warm and I can’t figure out where she’s coming from. “Sweetie, I own a newspaper. And even if I didn’t, most people in this country know about his murder. It was big news for days, but that was a while ago, and if he’s dead, then why do you need this guy to watch over you, and why do you think you need him here, in my office?”
I wait for Haverty to make one his idiotic jokes, like Cove’s mother asked me to watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get hurt, but for once he keeps his mouth shut. “I don’t need to explain myself, but I think you do.”
“What did Ivy say about the article, besides she found it at my house? And by the way, my house is full of old news clippings, it’s my life, so I don’t know why you’re so surprised by all of this.” She opens her desk drawer and hastily scratches out a note; I notice her hands are shaking just as much as mine. She’s playing me, and I don’t like it one bit.
“I doubt highly this thing was cut from an everyday city paper, not with the headline. And your daughter didn’t say anything about it. I was hoping you could shed some light on the subject before I talked to her, but I can see that’s not going to happen... come on Hav, let’s go.”
Her hand is on my arm and Haverty’s hand on hers quicker than a cheetah chasing its prey. I place my free hand to his chest and he steps back.
“Give me a moment, I’ll meet you in the lobby,” I say.
He nods and walks off as Kaitlyn coils a finger through one of the belt loops on my jeans. She yanks me toward her, which gives me a nice view down her open blouse, fucking gorgeous tits. Fucking giant... much larger than... I bite my bottom lip and feel her hand in my pocket as she slips the note inside. Deep inside. Brushing against my dick. Double fuck.
“I’m married,” I step back. “Happily married, by the way.”
“That’s a very foolish thing to say. No one’s happily married, haven’t you learned that yet? Or are you still too young to have figured that one out, you pretty thing.”
“Fuck off,” I put my hat back on and reach for the door.
“Cove, wait.”
I keep walking, through the lobby, to the elevator, with Haverty by my side. The door closes and he pats my back.
“She wants to fuck you, right?”
“What a bitch.” My finger presses the button multiple times as a distraction to the graphic thoughts in my head.
“Well, if that’s all it is, if she set you up because she needs a boy toy then you should be happy, right? I can fuck he
r for you if you want. She won’t even remember your name once I dig my stick in.”
“My God, Hav,” I shake my head and let out a quick laugh. “I wish it were that simple, but I can’t imagine her sending her daughter into the Scarlett with the article in hope that I might show up at her office and fuck her, you know?”
“Did you see that woman? Hello? Were your eyes open? You’re a former porn star, right? For fuck’s sake, her shirt was wide open, sweat dripping between her cleavage like she just fingered herself, most likely thinking about you by the way, and the tight skirt, skank heels, fucking caked on mascara. I’d like to have a red lipstick stain on my dick from her mouth. Bleach blonde hair,” he smacks his lips. “The room was a hormonal sauna. She’s in heat, a middle-aged woman who probably hasn’t had it in a while, and...”
“Haverty, enough. Jesus.”
“Alright... so why did you call me? It’s not like you couldn’t have handled this alone.”
The door opens and I extend my hand for him to lead the way. “I didn’t know what was going to happen. Besides, I missed you, haven’t seen you in a couple of hours. Thought we could get a donut or something,” I joke.
“And?”
“And you know me too well. I’m calling Ivy to meet me at the Scarlett, and I want you there. I don’t trust her and if she’s anything like her mother, I don’t want to be alone with her either.”
“Why don’t you turn on the security cameras?”
“Why am I paying you again?”
He laughs and grips the back of my neck in a loving act, though I know he could break it in an instant if he wanted to. I’m a big guy, but Haverty’s twice my size, and he reminds me of a hitman with his dark slicked back hair; not someone I’d want to meet on the street late at night, or during the light of day, or in an aisle at the grocery store for that matter. He’s a massive bull who’s always ready to fight or fuck, and I guess that’s why I love him. He fits right in with the rest of my family, especially Sophia and myself. Our fights are like foreplay; she yells and my dick gets hard and I want to fuck her, and I know she can’t wait to torture me with her tongue to punish me when I’m being an ass.
“You thinking about fucking your wife again?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You zone out when you’ve got Sophia or her father running through your head, but with the grin, I’d say its Soph this time.”
“I owe her a fuck, and an apology, or an apologetic fuck. I should have respected her decision to fire Ivy. Who gives a shit about free advertising or pissing Kaitlyn Moore off? That was senseless on my part.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll meet you over there, ball biter.”
He laughs as he jogs up to the Escalade. “You’re just not as good at jesting as I am, Cove, but practice makes perfect, right... ball biter?” he grins.
It’s warming up outside, supposed to be a humid day. I take a deep breath of the summer air and wait for him to leave before taking the note out of my pocket. It’s an address and time to meet her tonight. I hate shit like this, just fucking tell me what’s going on... damn it, now I know how Sophia felt this morning. I did the same thing to her. Speak of the devil. Must be her calling. Yep.
“Hey, Soph. Doing okay?” I ask.
“Your parents want to know what’s up. I’m not good at lying to them, Cove, especially to your mother. She can see right through me.”
“Where are you?”
“In their bathroom.”
“You know she’s probably outside the door listening, right?”
She’s silent for a moment then sighs. “What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Haverty and I are on our way to the Scarlett. Don’t worry; I’ll be home soon, alright? Tell my mother to keep breakfast warm. It will calm her down if she knows I won’t be gone for long.”
“Okay. I feel better knowing Haverty’s with you. Love you.”
“You too. Hang in there.” I end the call and bring Ivy’s number up on my phone as I head for the bar. She needs to get both her ass and the article over there. Now.
CHAPTER THREE
“Have a seat. Haverty, get us each a water.”
Ivy sits at the bar and crosses her legs. She’s wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts, exposing her tan muscular legs. She jogs, I can tell by their definition and the cross trainer she has on under her tank. Soph has a few of those and I know women need them for support when they run, plus Ivy’s tits are like her mother’s, too big for my taste, but still hard not to drop your eyes on, especially when it’s clear she enjoys showing them off.
“I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong.”
“Start at the beginning. Tell me where you found the article.”
“Can I have a beer instead of a water?” she asks.
“No, I’m not giving you a drink, not when you’re here outside of business hours and it’s this early in the morning. This is a serious discussion, start talking.” She fucking twirls her hair again. Same blonde dye job as her mother’s, and it’s obvious by the roots that the original color is a dark brown. “Spit it out, Ivy.”
Haverty places the glasses on the bar and stands with his arms crossed, flexing his muscles, probably trying to intimidate her. She sips the water and puts a small shoulder bag in front of me. I know it’s in there, but I wait, I’m not digging through a woman’s stuff, she needs to take it out.
“I wasn’t looking for it, it was something I came across where my mother usually keeps some extra cash, which is strange because I never saw it there before; in her home office, top desk drawer, under a change purse. It was like she wanted me to see it or something. I thought the headline was interesting so I kept reading and found out it was about Sophia’s father.”
“How did you know my wife’s last name and that the article was about her father?”
“Oh, come on,” her eyes roll as she sips more water. “Everyone knows her dad was the king of porn and that you worked for his company. Cove Everton... porn star... or just Star. That’s what your name was, right? What do you think we talk about when you’re not around? The other girls here have photos of you naked that they pass around. It’s big fun.”
I exhale, and trace the rim of the glass with my finger, pissed that she would be so crass to say such a thing to her boss. Fucking bitch. I peer at Haverty who seems just as angry. He nods and acknowledges my silent request to take care of the gossip.
“I’ll put a stop to it,” he says.
“Do so before Sophia comes across anything else,” I add. “I’m sure it started with one person and spiraled out of control.”
He nods and glares at Ivy who is quick to defend.
“Well it wasn’t me. I just found the article two days ago.”
“I may just fire everyone and start over,” I mumble. “Get a whole new crew in here.”
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“So you were just adding to the fun? Right? Let me tell you something, Paul Jameson would have had you on your knees and sucking him off within a minute of meeting him. This subject is far from humorous, and I’m not pleased.”
“Whoa,” Haverty says with a step forward.
“Give me the article,” I demand in a cold voice.
She opens her bag and takes it out of an inside pocket. Just as I thought, it’s from a porn magazine, and not a newspaper clipping. Folded a few times, with the creases worn from being handled, it’s definitely not a recent write up.
“You’re fired, Ivy. We’ll mail you your last check, or you can pick it up next week.”
“Wait, what?”
I head for a back stairwell that leads to my office; an open loft space overlooking the downstairs floor.
“Cove! I apologized to you and your wife. Please. My mother’s going to kill me if I lose another job. She said I’d have to deliver newspapers for her again!”
She starts to cry as I walk
up the stairs to my office, article in hand, not wanting to read it, yet knowing it will have a hold on me if I don’t. The front door buzzes as Haverty lets her out.
Two plush leather swivel chairs are set by the edge of a movie theater style balcony, one for myself and one for Sophia. We like to sit and have a drink late at night when we need a break from the crowd, yet still want to keep an eye on the place. I take a seat and watch Haverty clean and dry the glasses until I can’t hesitate any longer. I unfold the paper and come eye-to-eye with a photograph of my wife’s father.
Paul Jameson... his hands on the back of a woman’s head as she kneels before him, his grin running from ear to ear, beady eyes looking into mine. He had me in that position before. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk to Sophia about it, or anyone else for that matter. Some secrets are too dark to ever leave one’s mouth.
Based on his haircut and clothing, I’d say the article is a good ten years old, maybe more. I start to read as Haverty takes a seat next to me.
“That was harsh... what you did to Ivy. You hired her, then your wife fired her, then you hired her back only to fire her again a few hours later? What the fuck? That’s not like you.”
“If you ever want to see a flip in my personality, then call me by my porn name.”
“I’ll make note of that. So what does it say?” he asks.
“Shut the fuck up so I can read it.”
“Alright, pussy ass. Read it already.”
I scan the article, looking for anything that stands out about Paul, his porn company, anything... but there’s nothing. It’s a run-of-the-mill write up about a new online site called Cooch Shell Island. I remember when it came out; the only flop his company ever had. Island sites were all the rage back then, and he made the classic mistake most business owners make at one time or another; he wanted to imitate everyone else, jump in on a bogus gold rush instead of sticking to his own original seedy performances. Figuratively speaking, that is.
