Page 61 of Smokescreen


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“No, don’t move.” He crawls up my body and I shiver. “You sent me to see a man. He’s a seventeen-year old Casanova and doesn’t even realize. He’s so busy worrying about his fucking family he doesn’t see the girls staring at him like he’s a God. I scared the shit out of him. He had no idea who I was until I mentioned your name and his face lit up. Apparently, you have that effect on people. He told me his story and even told me about the abuse. Something he left out with you because he said you were too pretty.”

“What?”

“Yeah, babe. You have an admirer.”

“Max, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, he knows you’re taken and I now have a new assistant. He’s smart Stella, just like you thought. He can speak well, read spreadsheets, and has drive. I hired him to help me communicate with the workforce and report back the progress of the renovations. The position will be on a trial basis. But I wanted to give him a chance. He agreed to stay in school, and work from three to six with me each day. He’ll be getting a company phone and laptop so we can communicate easily. He also agreed to give you updates.”

“Me?” I ask breathlessly.

“Yeah, babe, apparently he took to you.”

“He’s a good kid,” I say as more of a statement.

“Yeah, seems so. But he’s also smitten. I may have some competition.”

“Max! He’s seventeen, he’s not used to kindness. I’m glad you helped him.”

“Babe, even though we got his situation settled, we have to stay focused.”

“I am focused!”

“Well, because of your shenanigans, I’m not.”

“What did you do?”

“That fucking community center was a joke! I called Dana and had her get one million ready to donate. Everything needed redone. So your plan to rebuild the community just adjusted.”

I throw myself on him and cover every skin surface I can with kisses. “I love you, Maxwell McCoy! My gut tells me we won’t be sorry taking a chance on Pedro.”

“I love you too, babe, but you owe me. Now lay back, it’s time to make good on your end of the bargain.”

Being home should have brought me a sense of peace, but my nerves are still on edge. The week we spent in South America was quick, fast-paced, and exhausting, but we touched on everything we went for. Stella wasn’t kidding about needing more manpower and as she predicted, the entire Hurst & McCoy workforce stepped up. Even our vendors and clients have offered to donate to our causes.

Computers, books, and clothes are all being shipped to the factory next week for distribution to schools, shelters, and community centers. Pedro is my point man for the shipments and will take inventory and deliver. Stella, Laci, and Landon have taken over most of the community efforts. My mom has joined them daily pitching in where needed. Even Mason and Matt are helping.

The factory is still producing clothing, but the new equipment will increase production time. I’ve spoken to all our distributors and explained our plans. Demand for JOS athletic apparel is at an all-time high. Whereas a few months ago, it was taboo to have your company name associated with JOS, now it’s a selling point. We shared the product demand with the employees and they seemed at ease when we left.

What’s bothering me most is the meeting with the government officials we had before leaving. The three men were callous and unpredictable. It wasn’t mentioned out loud, but I could tell they were pissed about the whorehouse being closed. I did that before Sullivan PR came into the picture, but they seemed hostile towards Stella in our meeting. The looks, snares, and crude comments were enough to push me over the edge. Thankfully, they spoke in Portuguese so she had no idea what they were saying.

The day we sat down with the officials in the JOS offices was a cluster-fuck. The instant the men walked through the door, air was sucked out of the room. Employees scattered, never making eye contact and the atmosphere went stoic. Stella held her head high and put on a good show, but I could tell she was uneasy. Her leg tapped underneath the table and she continuously rubbed her hands together. At one point during the conversation, she looked to me to finish her statement.

Two of the men smirked at her, which set my irritation on overdrive. I glared at them, leaving no room for confusion and explained our next steps. My words and direction were firm and solid, annoyance evident. My take-no-prisoners, don’t give me bullshit attitude, took over and by the time I was finished with the meeting, the direction was clear, don’t fuck with me.

I took two of the men on a tour to show them the changes being made but one hung back, claiming he needed to make a phone call. We were only gone twenty minutes, but when I saw Stella’s face upon return, blood boiled. She blew me off until we got back to the room and then broke down.

Apparently that son of a bitch laid out money on the table, telling her it was in her best interests to reopen the “bar,” as they called it, and get the women back to work servicing the men. He spoke broken English but she understood every word. He got in her face and insinuated she better watch her back.

I tried to find the asshole the next day but he vanished. So instead, I have a team trying to find him. He’s disappeared and no one seems to know who he is. When I talked to the two men I was with, they claimed he was an independent contractor. I smelled bullshit but my only priority was getting Stella home and safe. Until we do a grand re-opening, she’s not going back.

“Max?” Dana’s voice jolts me and I see it’s after six.

“Yeah?”

“Edward is on his way over.”

“Shit.”

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