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“How cute. You’d be shocked how fast my ad revenue grows when the good people of Chicago know their favorite tea master has First Amendment issues. Nevertheless, my act of kindness was a personal favor to Miss Beatrice Nightingale Brandt. Ring a bell for me and I’ll wait for my angel wings.”
I grind my teeth. This prick is incurable. I’m also baffled.
“My grandmother offered you a kill fee?” I say slowly.
This is not how I wanted him to fuck off.
If Ward told Grandma about my sex tape, knowing she’d come running to my rescue, I’ll bash his head in. I know I fucked up, but he didn’t have to go to her.
Nobody ought to be fighting my battles except me.
“No, but she’s still good friends with two of my biggest advertisers. Deep pockets and all that jazz. I can’t afford to have my strings clipped to two large luxury brands over ruffling a darling old lady’s feathers.”
“Watch how you talk about my grandmother,” I snap.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of insulting the Brandt everyone respects—even me.”
“Since when do you have a soul, Osprey? Even when it comes to protecting your bottom line?” I sigh. “This is about the video, isn’t it?”
“I can’t confirm that, and I’m not promising to hold off indefinitely on publishing a content starring you and Miss Seraphina if such an amorous curiosity rolls across my desk. This was a one-time favor to Mrs. Brandt—and to you.”
“Favor?” I snort. “So you’re still going to publish the fucking thing?”
“Were you listening? If and when Miss Seraphina passes it on, I’ll decide what to do then. That decision hinges on several factors, including whether or not you choose to do anything worthy of thrusting yourself back in the limelight.”
What? I don’t understand his game.
“What story did you table then?” I demand.
“I can’t comment on content that’s no longer being published, but it would’ve dropped today. I didn’t need a video from Miss Seraphina to confirm it. Suffice it to say, it would not have been flattering.”
“Come on, Birdshit, you have to give me something.”
“I’ll say it involves credible doubt that you and Carmen are rekindling an old flame. However, you seem to have a new leading lady who looks awfully familiar from a certain flap months ago at a major charity event.” He pauses, and I can practically see the brutal smile on his face. “She’s a bit untested in the spotlight, don’t you think? I looked her up, though even I feel strange about subjecting Jane Doe to your level of—shall we say, public intrigue?”
Fuck him.
How did he find out who Reese is?
“Leave her the hell alone, or I’ll do more than make legal threats,” I growl into the phone.
“Yes, yes, you’ll find me in a dark alley or something. I suppose you’ve forgotten I was a military man once, just like you,” he says with an audible yawn. “Also, don’t push my fucking buttons, Nicholas Brandt. I can still go forward with elements of the shelved story if I want. It’s saved as a draft. My benevolence evaporates as easily as it comes if you remind me how stupid you can be.”
I need to get off the line. Now. Before I commit a terroristic threat.
Thankfully, there’s a knock at my office door, all the more reason.
“Bye, Roland.” I slam the phone down, terminating the call, and turn to the door. “Come in!”
Ward flings the door open, wearing a smug expression. I wait until the door clicks shut behind him.
This isn’t going anywhere good.
He sits down across from me.
“Everything okay? I noticed Reese was late to pick up Millie yesterday, and you were with her,” he says.
Damn. I pay Tiffany enough to keep her mouth shut.
“I was here working when Reese picked up Millie,” I say, adding nothing. I won’t let him bust my balls.
“I guess that’s what I get for believing a preschooler.”
Millie’s the traitor?
“What did she say?”
“She was giving Tiffany a hard time in the hall earlier. I told her I was going to talk to Reese, and she said she’s sleepy because you and Reese left her here late. But she likes her room at your house, and if I tell on her, her aunt might make her go home.” A shit-eating grin tears across his face.
“Whatever, bro,” I say, waving my hand.
“Relax, man. I don’t care. If anything, I’m here to congratulate you, but you both might want to do a better job of hiding it from Millie. The kid talks a lot.”
“It’s not like that. I don’t want to say too much because it’s not my story to tell. But with everything going on, they’re just safer with me.”
“Safer from what?” He gives me an assessing look.
“Ward, just leave it alone. It’s not company business.”
“Oh, hell. Her sister’s mess is bleeding over, isn’t it? I’m proud of you for everything you’ve done for Reese and Millie. If you feel like it’s too much—”
