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“What are you doing?” Oh fuck, Digby’s back.
I drop my hand with the phone and hit the home button over and over to hide what I was looking at. I don’t think he saw. “What are you doing with my phone?” He jerks it out of my hand.
“Getting the Monaco photos, like you said,” I smile at him with as much phoniness as I can muster.
Holy shit holy shit holy shit.
My gut is rolling, between this and the turmoil I have been in for days now over Lennox, I feel like I’m going to faint. Lennox, I have to tell Lennox. This would solve all his problems at Celeritas.
“William, are you stupid? Nevermind, don’t answer that. You are, indeed, stupid,” Digby goes back to flogging William. I lose track of what he’s even going on about, something about the private plane, maybe? Who cares, there are videos of Digby doing cocaine on his phone! It was definitely him! I’d recognize that pasty white chest and smarmy face anywhere.
Between my racist NBA player and other naughty clients of the past, I know what a video like this can do to an athlete’s career. Steroid use alone has brought down legends, Digby doing blow off some women’s stomach has to be enough to tank him.
I knew he was a fraud, I knew it! Mr. Squeaky Clean apparently can’t keep his nose clean!
Fuck, they’re in the Recently Deleted folder and are going to auto-delete themselves. I didn’t even notice how many days they had left.
I don’t know how but I have to get those photos and videos. I’m going to take this trash to the curb. Douchelicker Dupont, you’re going down! You’ve fucked with the wrong New York nanny.
I need access to that phone, which means I need access to Digby. More access to Digby. I swallow hard.
In that moment I hear a shrill giggle from Lennox’s garage bay, or it could be a seabird being strangled. A blond-haired Oompa Loompa has her triple D’s plastered up against Lennox, who is laughing like a hyena and taking selfies with her.
I want to claw her eyes out. I want to slap the hell out of Lennox. I can’t deal with this right now. My brain goes into survival mode. It’s fight or flight time. I hear Cody’s voice telling me I’ve always been a fighter. I’ll cry more later but right now, I fight.
I touch Digby’s arm, I run my hand up to his shoulder. I smile at his surprised reaction.
“What is this, Ms. Mitchell?” He licks his lips.
Stay down, bile. Stay down.
“He humiliated me in front of the entire world,” I act like a wounded butterfly. It’s not a had act to play right now, quite honestly, and the Oompa Loompa is illustrating my point all too well.
“Ah, a woman scorned?”
I nod to the blond bimbo nanny behind us with her pink fingernails all over the love of my life. “Two can play at this game,” I shrug suggestively as Digby glances behind him.
I need to play this cool. He’s stupid but I can’t risk being too obvious.
“Interesting. You’re a wicked one, Ms. Mitchell.”
“Mr. DuPont, you have no idea.” I run my palm up and down his back and he puts an arm around me while he continues his assault on William.
Across the garage, I catch a glance at Lennox slapping the Oompa Loompa’s ass. I’ve tried to avoid looking him in the eye for days now, but mine are drawn to his. I want to tell him so much.
Why are you doing this to me? How could you?
Despite it all, I am still going to help you, you stupid asshole. I will do this for you.
???
It’s past three in the morning and I haven’t slept. At this point, I may as well stay awake for my early morning flight back to Aylesbury. But there’s nothing I can do but plot so I continue to lie here and stare at the smoke detector light on the hotel room wall that blinks every three-point-six seconds.
Tomorrow, or today I suppose, I go back to the Celeritas headquarters until the next race two weeks away. Lennox will not be in Aylesbury with me. He won’t be across the hall from my flat. He isn’t across the hall from my hotel room now, but at least he is in this building, somewhere. I think. Is he alone like I am each night?
Doubtful. You’ve seen how women throw themselves at him.
Stop thinking about him. Focus on the plan.
