by Taryn Belle
Alex went on to tell her about the teaser photos that had turned up on Twitter, to Nicola’s shock.
“Sooo...?” She looked at him questioningly.
“So the teaser has already named my brother, among others. Dev said things got pretty wild between him and Kiki, and possibly with some of the other guests. And us...”
Nicola inhaled sharply. “Oh, my God. Oh, my... God.” She brought her hand to her mouth.
“I know,” Alex said miserably. “We don’t know exactly what they have, but I think right now we have to assume the worst. They—”
“Who tweeted it? Was it a big outlet? If not, then maybe...”
Dev squeezed his eyes shut as he choked the word out. “Starfucker.”
No. No.
“You mean Starfucker, the website?”
Alex nodded with a pained expression.
This can’t be happening.
Nicola gaped at him as the pieces clicked into place, and then she pushed herself away from the table to put more space between them. Just like that, everything she’d believed about Alex seemed like it had been built on a bed of sand.
“That’s the website that released the sex tape of me,” Nicola said icily.
Alex put his head in his hands.
“And, hold on, you’re telling me—you’re telling me that you’re here to buy it? That’s who your company is making an offer to?” Nicola was incredulous.
Alex was shaking his head. “No, not anymore. Before I came up to the room today—I talked to Brissoli. I told him I was no longer interested, and... I don’t know if that’s why he released the photos. I think he would have done it anyway, but this—”
“But you did want to buy it,” Nicola cut in furiously. “You knew perfectly well who you were dealing with when you came here to make him an offer. Because that’s what people like you do, right? Study up on the company you want to acquire? Or maybe you’re only interested in their numbers and not their content. Have you even looked at their headlines? They’re enough to turn anyone’s stomach!”
Alex threw his hands up. “It wasn’t personal, Nicola, it was a business deal! If we only did business with companies who were squeaky-clean, then nothing would get done!”
“There’s a big difference between squeaky-clean and St—that website.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the name again. “I mean, come on—you really never thought about how owning that would reflect on your company?”
Alex threw his hands up in frustration. “It’s my father—he’s dead set on acquiring it.” He shook his head. “Look. When my parents started Echelon thirty-five years ago, it was a local cable channel with two shows—a fly-fishing program and a courtroom program where you could tune into people arguing their way out of speeding tickets. Dry as shit. Eventually, they started producing a couple of shows themselves and they bought other media like magazines and small newspapers, but it still had a reputation as a bit of an old-school media empire. When my mom died, the board figured with the business management gone—my dad handled the creative side of things—it might be better to just break it up. For my father, I think the double whammy of losing his wife and then nearly losing his company—and the memory of his earlier failures—that’s what drives him more than anything. He’s terrified of Echelon being irrelevant. For the past few years he’s been buying up whatever he thinks the public will eat up, and like it or not, Starfucker is the hottest thing out there right now in celebrity news. You know all too well how popular that makes it.”
“I see,” Nicola responded flatly. “So this is all your father’s fault.”
“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just trying to give you some context. Look...” He stood up and walked over to her, trying to reach for her hands, but she pushed them firmly under her thighs. “I know this is a mess,” he said. “I wish I could take the time to explain it all to you, to try to make you understand—hell, to try and make myself understand—but time is of the essence right now. We don’t know how long we have until the tower is repaired. I left a message for Brissoli at the hotel, and I’m going to go over there right now and try to fix this.” He stood up. “I’m so sorry,” he said, shaking his head sadly.
And then he was out the door, leaving Nicola staring at the empty space where he’d been.
* * *
Room 217.
Alex took a deep breath before he raised his hand to knock on the door, trying to rein in his temper. He wanted nothing more than to burst into Brissoli’s room and throttle him to death, but while that might solve one problem, it would create many more. He lifted his hand and knocked, settling his face into a neutral expression.
Brissoli opened the door, zipping his fly as if he’d just come from the bathroom...or from somewhere else. Alex suppressed a shudder.
“Right on cue,” Brissoli said, giving his watch a cocky glance.
“May I come in?” Alex asked with forced politeness.
“Be my guest.”
Brissoli opened the door and Alex stepped inside. The room was a mess—clothing dropped everywhere, an abandoned food tray on the floor, two laptops tossed carelessly onto the unmade bed.
Alex met Brissoli’s icy eyes. “I think you know why I’m here, but before we get into it I have to ask—do you really want that kind of litigation nightmare on your hands?”
Brissoli snorted. “Have you seen Caribbean privacy laws? And maybe you’ve forgotten that I happen to be a lawyer myself.”
“Ex-lawyer, actually,” Alex couldn’t help but point out. “At least I’m pretty sure that’s what they call it when one gets disbarred?”
Brissoli seemed unperturbed by the slight. “Whatever. The point is I know the system. And anyway...” he added, running a hand through his greasy hair. Alex watched with disgust as flakes of dandruff rained on his shoulders. “Starfucker is the hottest thing since Facebook. You’ve seen my numbers—advertisers are battling to the death for front page. No amount of lawyering up could make more than a dent in that kind of revenue. And this video footage I’m sitting on? Pure gold. Like nothing the world has ever seen. That kind of traffic could shut a site down, but we’re prepared for it.”
Alex controlled his desire to spit in the guy’s face. “So then I don’t imagine your moral compass would sway you.”
Brissoli looked bored. “Please. All I’m doing is giving the masses what they want. I don’t make their tastes—I just feed them. You go out there and make yourself famous, you get what you signed up for. Pretty small price to pay if you ask me.”
Alex couldn’t help but feel a sense of shame sweep over him. Only a few days ago he’d have said nearly the same thing.
“And anyway,” Brissoli continued, stepping close enough to Alex that he could smell his unwashed body over the scent of his Axe body spray. “If I recall, forty-eight hours ago you were pretty hot to do a deal with me.” He tipped his head sideways in mock sympathy. “But I guess we had a change of heart once we dipped our dick in 2018’s starfucker of the year?”
Alex’s hands curled into fists as he forced himself to stay calm. The urge to flatten the smarmy asshole was almost irresistible, but he knew he had to keep his head if he was going to get them out of this. Alex looked at him levelly. “I don’t think there’s any need to make this personal.”
“Oh, but it is personal. That’s what makes Starfucker so popular—it’s very personal. But don’t worry—you’ll see that soon enough for yourself. All of you will—your brother, that hot little redhead, the homewrecker. And you.” He gave Alex a defiant stare.
So Brissoli had it. Not just Dev and Kiki, but Nicola and himself on tape.
Fuck.
Alex reached behind his back, took the folded contract from the waistband of his shorts and handed it to Brissoli.
“Here’s what we’re prepared to offer. We get rights to all media uploaded as of to
day’s date, meaning you call off your leeches back home—no release of any videos from the party.”
Brissoli scanned the papers, and then he went over to the small desk in the corner and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. He walked back to Alex and held it up in his face. “This is my new price. You have until noon tomorrow to meet it, or I’m on a plane back home and those videos go live.”
“That’s extortion.” The words were out of Alex’s mouth before he could think. Regaining his composure a bit, he added, “That’s double what we were prepared to offer. I need more time to get sign-off from our board, and with no phone or internet that’s impossible.”
Brissoli shrugged. “Maybe my flight will be delayed. Otherwise—not my problem.”
Alex looked at him coolly. “This is sounding less like a business deal and more like blackmail.”
“I don’t like labels.”
“Except that you’re a lawyer. If anyone knows how these things operate, it’s you.”
Brissoli stepped toward Alex and tucked the piece of paper into his shirt pocket. “True, but I also know the lengths some people will go to to protect themselves—and occasionally others. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pack.”
Alex stepped back into the hallway, the number on the piece of paper still swimming before his eyes. It was a price even his father wouldn’t agree upon, and Alex didn’t relish the idea of explaining to him why it was so astronomically high. No, Alex would sort this out on his own. Going to his father with a mess like this on his hands would only give the man more reason to doubt him.
He walked back down to the lobby, pulling his phone out to check reception. Still nothing. He stopped at the concierge desk and asked to borrow their landline.
Dev picked up on the first ring. “Did you take care of it?” he barked.
“I’m doing my best. But I need your help.”
Dev snorted. “Of course you do.”
Alex slapped his hand down on the desk in frustration. “Look. We’re better working together than apart on this, okay?”
“That would be a first.”
“You don’t have to tell me. But why don’t we just pretend for right now that we’re stronger as a team.”
Dev heaved a deep sigh. “Fine. What do you need?”
“A couple of things.” Alex glanced around and lowered his voice. “Moretta started off as a haven for judges. Are there still any around?”
* * *
For the twentieth time in the past hour, Nicola picked up her phone and checked her reception. Still down—but for how long? How long until she was plunged back into the nightmare she’d fought so hard to escape once already?
She dropped her phone back on the table and paced back and forth a few times, trying not to look at the spoils of her cooking on the counter. The lunch with Alex that had never happened. And just when things were so good between them again—
No. Nicola needed to mentally prepare for the horror that was about to come down on her, and those plans could not include Alex, no matter what her personal feelings for him might be. In fact, it was those feelings that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
The scene from the pool house flashed through her head. She felt like an unprecedented fool. The encounter had felt so perfect and magical at the time...and now it felt shameful and dirty.
So was this to be her destiny? To keep making choices that led her down a road of sexual shame? The high school sex tape. The kiss with Matthew. And now her act with Alex. All three of them triggered an unraveling of her life—all the more proof that she needed to be thinking with her head right now, because the times she’d let herself think with her body had only spelled complete and utter disaster.
She heard a knock at the door.
Alex.
Nicola crossed the room and opened the door, then she turned away from him again before she could meet his eyes. In her peripheral vision, she saw him slowly enter the room. He stood in the middle of her kitchen. “I’m dealing with it,” he told her.
“So I can stop worrying now? My life isn’t about to turn into a living hell at any moment?”
Alex sighed. “I’m doing my best. I still have more to do, and we have to hope the internet stays down for the rest of the island.”
Nicola nodded as Alex exhaled and dropped his head into his chest. “You know all of this might have been avoided if you’d just refused to buy the company in the first place,” she couldn’t help pointing out.
“It’s not that simple.”
“I keep hearing you say that, but I didn’t say it was simple. It probably would have been one of the hardest things you’d ever done. But isn’t standing up for what you believe in more important than—what?—having your father be angry with you for a few days?”
“You don’t know my father,” Alex said with an edge to his voice. “I’d have spent the next six months hearing about how badly I failed him. He would have dumped Starfucker’s traffic and ad sales figures on my desk every day, and when someone else eventually acquired it, he’d probably frame the announcement to remind me of what we missed out on.”
“So you have different values—even more reason not to cave to his. Can you imagine what my life would be like right now if I’d let my father dictate my values—?”
“That is not what I’m doing!”
“Oh, no? Then what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to do the right thing! Goddamn it, Nicola, can you not see what a tough place I’m in with this?”
“No. I’m sorry, but I can’t. If you’d just let your conscience be your guide—”
“My con—Jesus, Nicola. I know you live in some—some fantasy here on your Caribbean island, but I have the real world to contend with!”
Nicola looked like she’d been slapped.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t... Oh, fuck.” Alex shook his head dejectedly, and then he threw his hands up in frustration. “I just feel like I can’t win with you. I hold something back, you get upset. I’m up-front with you, you get upset. I don’t know what you want!”
Nicola was silent for a moment, and then she spoke in a quiet voice. “You know what we seem to do a whole lot of? Besides fucking, I mean. Arguing. We started off that way, and it looks like we’re going to end that way, too.”
Alex dropped his hands. “What do you—”
“I mean you’re right, we do live in different realities. We live in different time zones. We live with different priorities and expectations. I mean this isn’t going to work.” Nicola stepped close to him and put a hand on his stricken face. “Look,” she said. “I think you’re wonderful, I really do. Our time together was magical, and I’ll never forget it. But...it can’t continue. I can’t keep going through life making stupid mistakes that bite me in the ass.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “The fantasy is over. It has to be.”
Alex shook his head helplessly. “Nicola. Nicola, please...”
The look in his eyes tore her heart in two. But she couldn’t afford this.
“I think you should go,” she said softly.
Alex stood staring at her with his hands clenched at his sides as if hoping she would change her mind. When he realized she wouldn’t, he silently opened the door and walked into the cricket-filled evening.
Nicola waited until she heard his golf cart start up, and then she dropped down in a chair and bawled her eyes out.
So this was it. Her life was very possibly about to become a nightmare once again. She’d just spent five days with the most incredible man she’d ever met, a man she’d had to battle thoughts of a possible future with because it just wasn’t practical or realistic or cool to fall that fast...and now it was over. Reality hit her like a gale-force wind, wiping out everything she’d allowed herself to believe could be possible. She knew she’d never meet someone like Alex again.
Someone, yes—but not him. He was too special, too wonderful.
And all wrong for her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE RIDE TO the airport felt endless to Alex. He’d barely slept last night, tortured by thoughts of Nicola and strange, twisted dreams about his brother, Kiki, the party guests...
He rubbed a hand over his unshaven face as he sat in the passenger seat of the golf cart beside Dev. Contrary to his deadly mood, the sun was out again without a cloud to be seen. Alex thought about how surreal it was that just twenty-four hours ago he’d been feeling on top of the world—and now Nicola was done with him. There was an emptiness inside him that he’d never felt before, but right now he couldn’t even afford to grieve her. He had to be fully present for the next hour, or else Nicola’s—and Kiki’s and Dev’s, not to mention his own—future was at stake.
Wordlessly, Dev steered the golf cart into the roundabout that marked the entrance to the tiny open-air airport. Alex scanned it and immediately laid eyes on Brissoli, who was lounging on an outdoor bench alongside his slimy photographer. Both of them were smoking cigarettes as if their greatest concern was getting their last nicotine hit before going airborne—and it probably was.
Until he caught sight of them.
Brissoli’s cocky expression morphed into one of outrage as Dev pulled the cart up to the curb. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he sputtered, jabbing his cigarette toward the police officers who’d just pulled up behind them in a second cart. Alex and Dev jumped out of their cart and stood in front of Brissoli.
“Bringing the cops to arrest you,” Alex said simply.
“For fucking what? Taking a few pictures on Caribbean soil? Because that’s all you’ve got on me, and believe me, they could care less.”
“Actually, we have you on trespassing,” Dev said through clenched teeth, “and invasion of privacy. We take that pretty seriously on Moretta.”
“Not to mention blackmail,” Alex said, holding up his phone. “Our little conversation is all right here.”
