The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

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The Misters Series (Mister #1-7) Page 16

by J. A. Huss


  “Well, it’s not relevant. I’m not here to discuss my personal life with you, Brutus. And I’m certainly not going to consider some kind of sordid affair in exchange for a publishing contract.”

  “Why not?” Brutus asks, raising his eyebrows. “Everyone does it. Favors, Miss Ellie Hatcher, given and owed to the right people. That’s the only way to get ahead. And I know you want a favor from me today. Why not start our relationship off right? One for you, one for me. I have contacts with your literary agent. She owes me many favors. I could just call her up and tell her to get that book of yours published ASAP and she’d make it happen. Or I could call her up and say there will never be time for that book on anyone’s schedule. Which would you prefer?”

  “Favors?" Jesus Christ. I really don’t belong in this executive world. “I’m afraid you’ve insulted my ethics, Mr. Brutus. And I realize that I was sent here to nail this interview down, but—”

  “Your ethics.” He laughs. “Honey, if you want to succeed in this business, you play the game. And right now you owe me. You almost killed me, Miss Hatcher—”

  “But I didn’t kill you. And I didn’t do any of that on purpose. I just forgot about my sandwich, that’s all. I’m sorry. There’s nothing more I can say about it. I’m just sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry. It gives me power, Miss Hatcher. You’re about to publish a very high-profile book. Well”—he sneaks me a sideways glance that looks slightly evil—“if you can manage to get a publisher. I’d like to be in that book, Miss Hatcher. Be one of your case-study stars. Perhaps we could tour together.”

  “Tour together?” I scrunch up my eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Be my personal advisor, Miss Hatcher. I could propel you to success. Get your book published, but then you’d owe me again. Two favors.”

  “Um,” I have no idea what is going on but I suddenly know how Mac must’ve felt when he stumbled into my delusions. Brutus is creeping me the fuck out. “I don’t need help, Mr. Brutus, but thank you for the offer. Now, would you like to reschedule the interview for next month? Or is there a better time for you?”

  “No to the book deal?” Brutus says, one eyebrow cocked. “Well, I’m surprised. What else can you trade for the interview? An office fuck? I’ve heard you like to mix business with pleasure. You,” he says, one finger reaching up to tap me on the nose, “are the talk of Stonewall Entertainment these days, Miss Hatcher. I’ve heard all about your tryst with Mr. perfect in the other room. I have insiders. So perhaps you’d like to screw your way to the top with me as well?”

  I slap him in the face. Then I stare at my hand, then the shock on Brutus’ face, and do it again. “How dare you!”

  “How dare I?” He laughs. “You’re the one slutting around in the office. Not me. I keep it all very discreet, Ellie. I’m not anything like Mac. No one will ever know.”

  I stand up. “I’m leaving.”

  “You’re going to walk out? Even if I agree to a one-on-one interview with you?”

  “Me? Jesus Christ, what planet are you living on? I’m not a reporter! I’m a scheduler.”

  “So pencil me in, Ellie. Pencil in time to suck my cock right now and I’ll do the interview you were sent here to get,” he says, standing up and placing his hand on my breast. “And just FYI, I like the slapping.” He grips my breast, squeezing it. I twist away, but Brutus catches my arm, tugging me so hard, squeezing me so tightly, I can feel the bruise forming.

  “Stop it!” I say, wriggling. He grabs me around the waist, pulling my back into his chest, his disgusting breath heating up the skin on my neck. I have to swallow down the bile that wants to come up. “Let me go!”

  “You can slap me around all you want,” Brutus says. “I knew that little Miss Innocent act was just that. An act. It’s always the sweet ones who want to be fucked hard.”

  “That’s enough.” Mac is standing in the open door, eyes blazing, voice low as he growls it out again. “That. Is. Enough.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Mac

  “Ellie,” I say. “Go wait in the car.”

  For the first time since we started this trip today, she doesn’t argue with me. Just squirms and wriggles until Brutus lets her go and then half walks, half runs towards the door.

  “He’s lying to you, Ellie. You have no idea who this man is,” Brutus says.

  Ellie ignores him, clutching the low-cut front of her dress together as she walks past me, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped like she feels responsible for what just happened.

  I close the door behind her and then take my attention to Brutus. “Was that fun? Does pawing reluctant women make you feel powerful, Allen? Is that it? Your dick is small, your mouth is big, and the only way for you to feel in control is to take something by force?”

  Brutus smiles in a way that is too familiar to me. “You haven’t changed,” he says.

  “Neither have you. Still the same low-life asshole I knew in college. Still sick, still mean, and still pathetic.”

  “You know, I bet there are a lot of people who’d be interested in your past. Those news programs you head? Should I start there?”

  “You know the risks. Take them if you want, but my lawyers will have you in jail before dawn if you breathe a word to anyone.”

  “Stonewall Senior isn’t going to like how this turned out. He was very interested in getting me back on the show.”

  “That’s because he had no idea who you were.”

  “We have that in common, then,” Brutus says with a sneer. “You’re no different than me, Mac. Don’t pretend you are. And it doesn’t have to be me who outs you to that fine piece of ass waiting in your car. I’m not the only one who knows the truth.”

  “Go ahead and try it,” I say, taking a step closer to him. He backs away out of instinct, then catches himself and stands his ground. “I’m up for the challenge.”

  “You’re guilty,” he says. “You were always guilty. More guilty than anyone for what happened to that girl. Guiltier than me, that’s for sure.”

  “A court of law disagreed.” I smile and shrug my shoulders. “So no, actually, I’m not. And just because I didn’t do anything back then doesn’t mean I won’t do anything now.”

  “Are you threatening me, McAllister?” He steps forward, his dark eyes flashing in anger. “Because I can play that game too.”

  “Let’s go,” I say. “I’m ready when you are. But just remember this, Brutus.” I say his new name with disgust. It makes me sick that he’s some famous reclusive rock star. All these years, a whole decade between then and now, and look at him. “I have power in high places. Stay the fuck away from Ellie Hatcher and stay the fuck away from Stonewall Entertainment. Or the whole truth about what happened back in college will come tumbling out faster than you can blink.”

  “Ha.” He laughs. “Don’t talk to me about truth, Mr. Perfect. You’re the last man on Earth to lecture anyone on truth.”

  I want to punch him in the face so badly, I’m shaking. “Stay away from my company, my employees, and me. Because if you even think about talking, I’ll make sure everyone knows your part in it.”

  I walk out and he’s screaming behind me. Threats, insults. Whatever. He can go fuck himself.

  Ellie is already in the car when I get there, still holding the front of her dress together and staring down at her lap. “Are you OK?” I ask, sliding into the car next to her. “Airport,” I tell the driver. “Get us the fuck out of here.”

  “Will your father be mad?”

  “At what?” I ask.

  “Not getting the interview.”

  “No,” I say. “No, Ellie. He didn’t know.”

  “He didn’t know what, Mac? What the hell just happened in there?”

  Fuck. “It’s just…” Fuck. “It’s just the past, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

  “What did Brutus mean by all that? That stuff about me not knowing who you are?”

  “Just… never mind. You don’
t have to worry about it. But none of that had anything to do with you, Ellie. That was about me and I should’ve known better. I know what kind of asshole he is. He hasn’t changed a bit.”

  “So you know each other?” She takes a deep breath, but she’s not looking me in the eyes.

  “I did,” I say. “I knew him once, ten years ago. Back in college. But I haven’t seen him since.”

  “What were you talking about on the phone during the flight?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because it sounded important and it sounded like you were trying really hard not to let me know what was going on.” She finally looks me in the eyes. “Something happened, didn’t it?”

  Shit. “Ellie, look it’s not about this.”

  “Then what?” She’s angry. And I don’t blame her. “What’s happening today? Why were you on the phone and what was that emergency call about?”

  I frown. “Just don’t overreact, OK?”

  “Mac—”

  “There’s a video of us.” I cringe as I prepare myself to say the next few words. “Of us fucking.”

  “From where?” Her eyes are darting around wildly. “Where did they get a video?”

  “Your office.”

  “No.” She looks like she might cry. “No! Fuck that! How?”

  “Cameras.”

  “Obviously, Mac,” she snaps. “I’m not an idiot. Tell me everything you know. Right now.”

  “It was all from this morning. Everything we did this morning. The fight, the sex, they even have you walking out of your office. But hey,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “Everyone clapped for you.”

  “You think that’s funny?”

  “No,” I say. “Sorry. The good news is, we know who did it. Jennifer saw Ellen—”

  “Ellen Interoffice-sexcapades?” Ellie exclaims. “That fucking bitch!”

  “Jennifer saw her taking a video of you leaving your office. I’m so sorry. Ellen’s been fired. She’s already been escorted from the building and her company phone has been confiscated. We found the file on there and we’re definitely bringing charges for felony trespass, invasion of privacy, and maybe some others. She won’t get away with it.”

  “She already did,” Ellie says. God, she looks so sad right now. And it’s all my fault. It’s one hundred percent my fault for letting this happen at work. “Is this why your father wants to talk to us?”

  “Yeah,” I say, turning away to look out the window. “Yeah. She emailed it to a bunch of people at Stonewall. Including my father.”

  “Jesus Christ. This is great. Just fucking great. So your father saw a sex tape of us? I cannot believe this.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Ellie. OK? I will. I’m so sorry this is happening. I don’t even know what to say. I’m just so fucking sorry.”

  We’re quiet the rest of the drive to the airport. Something about this is wrong. Something about this is all very, very wrong.

  We have private terminal access, so the car takes us right out to the dropoff and we exit the car and make our way across the tarmac towards the waiting plane. The pilot is running out from the terminal behind us and he apologizes as he boards and takes his seat. Wasn’t expecting us back so soon, I bet.

  We settle into our seats and I wait until the attendant asks for and serves us drinks before trying to engage Ellie again.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again. What the hell am I supposed to say?

  “It’s not your fault,” Ellie says as she looks out the window. “I’m just as much at fault as you are.”

  “Still,” I say. “I know better. You’re just… just so damn cute, Eloise Hatcher.”

  I finally get a smile as she glances over at me. “I’m leaving the company anyway. It’s not like I need to see these people every day or anything. I’m pretty much out of there. But it’s not good to start my new, very public, career with this, is it?”

  Shit. “No,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  She searches through her purse for a few seconds, and then says, “Oh, no!”

  “What?”

  “I think I left my phone in my office. This is Heath’s phone. I must’ve picked up the wrong one. You don’t think she got to it, do you?”

  “Aw, fuck. Can this day get any worse?” I get my phone out and text Jennifer to go look in Ellie’s office for her phone. Ellie and I wait anxiously for the return text and when it buzzes in, I let out a breath of relief. “No, it’s there. Right on your desk.”

  “How did I not see it?” Ellie asks.

  “You were distracted?” I smile and shrug.

  She lets out a laugh and then seems to relax a little. “It’s not your fault, Mac. So really, don’t feel bad. I’m not blaming you for what happened.”

  “Well, I’m not sure Senior will see it the same way. But thanks. And I’m still sorry.”

  “Was he mad? He should be. I’d be mad if my employees pulled this kind of stunt.”

  “Probably, but like you said, you’re leaving. There’s not much he can do to you.”

  “He could give me a bad reference.”

  “He’d never do that, Ellie. Seven years of exceptional work is not wiped away by an office romance. It’s not your fault Ellen Abraham is a cunt.”

  She laughs at that and I start to relax too.

  “I don’t get Brutus. Do I do something to lead him on? Why was he acting that way with me?”

  And get stressed again. That fucker. What the hell is he up to?

  “I mean,” Ellie continues, “why call us all the way out here? Did he really think I’d trade my body for an interview?”

  “Probably,” I admit. “That’s the kind of guy he is. We’re never having that guy on our networks. And it’s good that Senior is coming today. We can discuss what a monumental mistake it was to try to reschedule him as well.”

  “Don’t tell him about me, Mac. Please.” Ellie’s eyes plead with me.

  “Why not? I bet Brutus does this to everyone. People need to know what a dick he is.”

  “I’m sure everyone knows what a dick he is. I certainly figured it out early.” She smiles. “Maybe the reason he’s never being interviewed is because people just can’t stand talking to him?”

  “Yeah, you could be right.” We brace ourselves for takeoff, and when we’re finally in the air and on our way home, we chat about other things. Regular things. Her book and when she might publish it. She’s not sure. She’s still hoping to sell it to a publisher instead of publishing it herself.

  She talks about Ming and I even tell her a few things about Nolan. His club, his meeting with Andrew and the virtual reality thing. And by the time we make it back to the Stonewall hangar, we’re feeling a little better. Things might not be so bad.

  That feeling lasts until we get off the plane and Ellie’s friend Ming is waiting for us just inside the hangar, hands on hips and looking like she wants to kill me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Ellie

  “Oh, shit,” I say.

  Ming is running up to me waving her arms around. “Don’t go in there! Don’t go—”

  “I already know,” I say, putting up a hand. “We know.”

  “Shit! What the hell happened?”

  “Ellen Abraham,” I say.

  “That fucking cunt.” Mac laughs, but Ming shoots him a warning look and he stops. “Why would she do that?”

  “She saw us that day I went down the slide.”

  “Well,” Ming says, hands on hips as she stares up at Mac, “I hope you’re happy. My girl’s reputation is now tainted because of you! What are you going to do about this?”

  “Ellen has been fired,” Mac says. “We’re pressing charges.”

  “You better be, mister. That’s all I have to say. She needs to go to jail for this!”

  “Ellie,” Mac says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want to rush you, but we really have to go.”

  “Mr. Stonewall is waiting to talk to us over at the Atrium,” I tell Ming.


  “Shit,” Ming says. “He better not blame you or I will have to have a talk with that man. I’ll sic Adeline on him!” I let out a small laugh but then Ming gets serious as she pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry, Ells. Really. This sucks.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be OK. I’m quitting anyway. It could be worse, right?”

  Ming nods, pouting her bottom lip in sympathy. “Right. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”

  There’s a car waiting for us, so Mac and I get in, silent all the way over to the Atrium building. As soon as we walk through the doors the place goes quiet. I look at my feet as we walk over the elevators and when we get in, all the talking starts up again. “Well, that was fun,” I say.

  Mac says nothing. Great.

  We exit the elevator and I can already hear Stonewall Senior yelling inside Mac’s office even with the door closed. Stephanie isn’t here, so there’s no one hanging out by our offices, thank God. But my heart starts thumping wildly as soon as Mac opens the door and waves me forward.

  I want to hide under Senior’s stare, but I don’t. He’s sitting behind Mac’s desk, talking on the phone. So I take a seat in front of the desk and Mac follows suit, unwilling to tell his father to get out of his chair.

  Stonewall Senior hangs up and steeples his fingers under his chin and he stares down at the desk. “Well, you’re fired.”

  “What?” I say.

  “Not you, Miss Hatcher. My… son.”

  “Um,” Mac says. “Yeah. It’s probably for the best. OK.”

  “OK?” I stare at Mac with an incredulous look. “You’re just going to give up? What the hell? We didn’t do this, Mr. Stonewall. Ellen Abraham did.”

  “And I fired her too,” Senior says, staring hard at Mac. “But look, McAllister, you and I fought over this position in the first place. I wanted you here, you promised you’d do the job, and then you go and sabotage it with an office romance with one of my best employees.” He redirects his attention over to me. “I’ve been informed that you gave two weeks’ notice, Miss Hatcher? The day my… son arrived?”

  “Um—” Shit. That really does look bad for Mac. “It wasn’t because of him. It was really Brutus who pushed me over the edge that day. And the whole… well…” Dammit. What am I supposed to say? I was having a delusional textual relationship with Heath? And then started a sexual one with your other son the same day? What the hell is wrong with me? I really do need professional help, Mac was right.

 

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