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Though we were on the phone, I could practically feel Marcel glaring at me through the receiver. “What the hell do you need to tell me?” he asked. “And make it quick. I’m off the clock, and I can tell you that you can’t afford my weekend rates.”
“Ran into Sawyer O’Connor.”
Marcel snorted. “And?” he asked. “The two of you have been fucking with each other since college. It’s almost odd that he’s been so quiet lately.”
I ignored Marcel’s words. He never understood the rivalry between me and Sawyer, but that was simply because Marcel believed that a man like Sawyer, with enough skeletons in his closet to fill a mausoleum, was an ideal client. If he wasn’t working for me, I was sure he’d be trying to get in with Sawyer’s father Patrick.
“He wanted to make me aware that he knows I’m running.”
“So?”
I rolled my eyes at Marcel’s nonchalance. He’d been riding my ass for the past two weeks, driving me to the point of insanity, and now that I had actual news to tell, he could care less, which was irritating.
“So, he was making me aware of the fact that his uncle was planning to run and wasn’t interested in the competition.”
“Which uncle?”
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. It was good for Marcel that he was my best friend because if he wasn’t, I might have fired him. “Patrick,” I said. “He’s the head of the family.”
Marcel blew out a small breath, and I knew that he was starting to match me in frustration. “Fuck,” he said. “He’s got a thriving restaurant business in Hell’s Kitchen and is a staple of that community. I was hoping that you would tell me it was one of the less put together uncles.”
“He’s got no chance,” I said, with more confidence than I was starting to feel.
I heard rusting in the background of the call. “I’m coming to your place. We can scratch out a plan to get ahead of this. We might be better off pulling the trigger earlier than we’d planned.”
“No,” I said, emphatically. “There’s no need for all of that.”
Marcel snorted. “Your candidacy is going up in smokes, and you don’t want me to come over?”
I shook my head. “I’m telling you as a courtesy because I’m planning to move things up quicker than we’d discussed.” Marcel and I had formed a plan weeks ago, and I’d been responsible for putting things into motion, slowly, so as to not scare off my mark.
“I thought that you were worried about spooking the girl?” The sound of rustling had stopped, and I knew that Marcel had stopped grabbing his things.
I shrugged even though Marcel couldn’t see me. “I guess I don’t have any other option. I was hoping to do this in a more gentlemanly way, but it looks like I’m going to have to resort to some less than savory tactics.”
I didn’t like the thought of blowing Annie’s life to hell. It wasn’t what I set out to do, but there was no helping it. I needed her to agree to my plan. I was sure that if she did, I’d win my candidacy. It just sucked that I needed to use her to get there. I’d spent a lot of time with her over the last week, and as much as I didn’t want to, I actually liked her.
She was sweet and easy to talk to. She was also sharp as hell. I’d never met someone who was able to pick things up and comb through information as quickly as Annie could.
“There’s a charity ball next Friday,” Marcel said, his voice interrupting my thoughts. “I’ve put you and this girl on the guest list.”
I sighed. I had no desire to go to some charity ball, or drag Annie to one, but Marcel’s plan was sound. We would need to be photographed together before I officially announced my run. As much as I wanted it to, that article about my sex life wasn’t going away.
“We’ll be there,” I said.
“Good.”
Marcel hung up without another word.
“Guess you aren’t heading over,” I muttered to myself, as I walked into my apartment building.
“Good evening,” the young woman behind the counter said. She gave me a sly smile. She was new and had been making eyes at me all week. For a moment, I considered taking her to the package room and making her suck my cock. I was stressed, and I needed a release. But I also didn’t need any of this making its way back to the papers, so I ignored her and made my way to the elevator.
Tomorrow, my plan would start, and I sent up a silent prayer that it would all work out. I couldn’t let the O’Connors win. It would undermine everything that I’d worked my entire life to achieve.
Tomorrow, I would turn on the charm, and by Monday, Annie would realize that I was the only choice that she had. As much as I liked her, I was about to throw a wrench into her life, and I would do so gladly.
Failure was not an option.
