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“Get lost,” I say, closing the door in his face and turning around to find Bex on her feet, shaking her head.
“I knew it,” she says, trying to push past me. “I need to go.”
“He’s lying,” I tell her. “You know that.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t kill your wife?”
“Of course, I didn’t.”
“How did she die? You never told me.”
“It was our wedding night. I went through to the bathroom, and when I came back, someone had stabbed her. They never found the killer. That asshole has a bee in his bonnet about me. He had a crush on my wife back when we were all kids. He’s determined to lock me up for the murder. Refuses to even look for another suspect. Just listen.” I put my hand on her arm as she reaches for the door handle.
“If you’ve any respect for me,” she replies, looking down at my hand. “You’ll let me leave.”
I let go of her arm.
“I thought I could trust you,” she says, shaking her head as she pulls the door open. “What an idiot I was.”
“You can trust me,” I reply. “I didn’t kill my wife.”
“He sure thinks so.”
“Listen, if you walk out of that door, I will have no choice but to go back to my original plan. I’ll have to fire the people out there. Might even let them know it was your idea.”
She stands frozen on the spot. “You wouldn’t.”
“You’re making me do it. You think I’m a crook. You think I’m bad news. You haven’t considered what it means if you’re right.”
“And what does it mean?”
“It means I’ve done bad things to get where I am. It means I’ll continue to do bad things to get what I want and I always get what I want in the end.”
“You’re starting to sound like Oswald.”
“Difference is I’m not whining after my ex. I’m running this fucking business, and I’ve made you an offer you’d be a fool to turn down.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
I lean close to her, pushing the door shut, wedging my foot against it so she can’t get it open again. “You should be.”
“Get out of my way.”
I grab her shoulders, spinning her to face me. “You’re not in charge here, Bex. The world isn’t chocolate boxes and puppies skipping through meadows like you think. To get anywhere, you have to get your hands dirty. You want your dream. This is what it’ll take. The contract will arrive at your house tonight, and you’ll sign it or regret it, trust me.”
She looks afraid, and I want to take it back, but it’s too late. I need this to work. I tried the gentle approach. This is all I’ve got left.
“Let me go,” she says.
I grab hold of her, pressing her to me. “I don’t think you want me to. I think you want me, but you’re afraid, so I’ll take the decision out of your hands. This is happening. Get used to the idea.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not doing it.”
“Tomorrow morning, I have a signed contract, or this place is a ghost town. I’ll shut down, and your precious magazine is gone for good.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wait and see.” I pull the door open. “Take the afternoon to think over your decision and remember what I said. I always get what I want.”
