In front of his office building, in downtown Seattle, Zander virtually crawled from the taxi, his soul crushed and empty, like a discarded soda can. A light mist swirled around the streets, dissipating in the waxing sun, tickling his skin with coolness.
In just a few short hours, he’d gone from total bliss, pondering a future with Effie, to heartbroken, desolate, and terrified what Trisha would do next. I should have stopped this months ago. I should have gone to the police. But then, everyone would know how low I stooped to get rid of her.
At least ten paparazzi burst onto the sidewalk, shouting and snapping photos.
“Mr. King. Mr. King. Can we get an exclusive?”
“Mr. King. Where do the sugar baby transactions take place?”
“Mr. King. How much did she cost?”
He shielded his face with his left hand and rushed toward the door.
Once inside, he took the private elevator to his office.
Kent sat on one of his burnt orange sofas. He bolted to his feet.
“What made you think I wanted any company?” Zander said, annoyed at the intrusion.
“They want blood. The board,” Kent blurted, his face drawn and pale. Gone was the cocky bastard.
“What kind of blood? Arterial or venous?” Zander strode toward his bar, intending to get a drink. Then, he thought better about that idea and headed for his desk.
“Total bleed-out. They want you out.”
Zander froze. The hair at the back of his neck prickled. “Out? How can they want me out?”
“They just do. You…you made yourself unavailable for a long time after the accident.”
“Yeah? So? I think anyone would have done the same in my circumstance. And what’s that got to do with anything? You’re not making sense.” He started to re-think the drink idea. His legs propelled him toward the bar.
“So, back when you were going through your rough patch, there was dissent. Grumbling. Talk that maybe you weren’t capable of doing your job. And now, with this…” He waved his phone in the air. “They’re rethinking their original decision to keep you on.”
Zander whirled around. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea to mention any of this to me when it first happened?”
Kent’s face fell. “I didn’t, no. I thought you had a lot on your plate. I ran the company while you were down and out. I kept it alive.”
“This again?” Zander squeezed his eyes tightly and rubbed his face. When he opened his eyes, he said, “Yes, Kent, Almighty One, you saved the company while I was wrestling with demons. Yes, you saved my life. How many times do I have to thank you? I’m getting sick of it. What’s your point?”
“I don’t have a point. Except that, well…remember everything I’ve done for you.”
“Everything you’ve done for me? You’ve lost me, Manning.” Zander squeezed the back of his neck.
“You know I’ve always had your back,” Kent said. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Like keeping my secret…which doesn’t really matter, because someone got a hold of it. Did you manage to quash the story?”
Kent averted his gaze. “I tried. I think we’ve got it under control.”
“You think, or you know?” Zander felt so tired he wondered if his skin and muscles would fall from his bones.
Kent glanced at his watch. “We’ve got to go. The meeting starts in one minute.”
Zander reined in his annoyance. Taking one last longing glance at his bar, he turned and strode toward the door, squaring his shoulders. If they want a fight, a fight they’ll get.
A grim mood hung around the boardroom, weighing on Zander’s shoulders. He struggled to stand tall as he headed for his place at the table.
Mia already sat in her chair. She flashed a warm, sympathetic smile at him.
He nodded back, his face too frozen to do anything else. Then, he sat between Mia and Kent and confronted the somber faces. Few made eye contact. Only Tom and his perfectly trimmed beard looked him in the eyes. Joseph also flashed him a quick smile.
Good. At least I’ve got a few allies.
“So,” he said, placing his palms on the table. “What’s the nature of this emergency meeting?”
“Is it true you paid for sex?” Candace, an older woman with edgy, sharp-angled hair which matched her personality, asked.
“That’s what we’re going with? My private business?” Zander said. He rose, crossing his arms over his chest, and glared. “And, no, I didn’t pay for sex.” Then, he paced the perimeter, glaring at each person in turn.
“Then, what, exactly, do you call this?” Candace flipped open a folder and retrieved an image of him and Effie kissing passionately in the parking lot at Bryant’s party.
“It’s called a kiss. People kiss.” Outrage made his brain spin.
“Then, how about this? I’d say this qualifies as sex, don’t you?” Candace slid an extremely fuzzy, pixelated image of him on top of Effie in the lagoon at the private island.
Zander’s forehead creased. What the…? He picked up the photo, directing his attention at Candace. “Where the fuck did you get these?”
“A private investigator sent them to us.”
He ripped the photo in two, then continued around the table until he reached his seat again.
He skewered each man at the table with his eyes. “And which one of you paid for these? Do you spank your dicks at night in some perverse thrill at looking at private pictures of people engaged in intimacy?”
Everyone in the room squirmed.
“I can assure you, it wasn’t one of us, Zander,” Tom said, confidently. “But, someone is certainly out to besmirch EXcape’s reputation.”
I’m going to destroy Trisha and Bryant. It has to be Trisha’s doing.
Zander’s head began to swim. He took a long, deep breath and willed himself to be calm. “You’re fucking killing me, each one of you. I’ve worked my ass off to build this company and now you’re trying to take it away from me with this none-of-your-business scandal.”
He let his gaze slide to each person.
Only Candace openly defied him, challenging him with cold, gray eyes.
Zander wanted to rip each dyed hair from her head, one by one.
She could cover the gray, but nothing could cover her ugly disposition.
“It does make the company look bad,” Joseph said, burning holes in his notebook with his eyes. He fidgeted with his pen.
“What makes the company look bad? When a guy lives his private life privately, or when his company gets into his business and makes him wrong for having a life?” Zander said, his rage increasing with each passing minute.
“It wasn’t us who made it public,” Candace said, pushing her tiger-striped glasses up her long nose. “You know we’re a company who sets a standard for wholesome exploration, with safety at the core of all we do. What you did was hardly safe.”
Zander’s nostrils flared. “What I did was consensual. And, it’s my fucking business.”
“Not anymore,” Candace said. “We’re a wholesome company, Zander,” she repeated. “You alone have besmirched your own reputation and the reputation of this company. I suggest we take a vote to remove you from this company. The board owns fifty percent of EXcape, as you know.”
Each person fidgeted in his or her chair.
Zander glanced at Kent.
Kent shook his head and angled his hands upward, as if to convey, “it’s out of our hands. What can we do?”
He turned toward Mia.
Her complexion looked red and speckled as if she were equally as mad.
Rapid footsteps clattered outside in the hallway. A few seconds later, Candace’s intern, a young guy named Dave, burst in the room. Panting, he hustled toward Candace, holding an electronic tablet. “Here it is. It just went live.”
Candace reached for the device and scanned the screen. Her face grew redder than Mia’s. She lifted her head and blasted Zander with a vicious glare. “This is it, King. You’ve dug your grave for good.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Zander placed his tented fingers on the tabletop, leaning forward.
Candace’s gaze dropped to the screen and she read out loud in her gravelly voice.
“Exclusive! The details of EXcape owner Zander King’s stormy relationship with Trisha Banks are about to be revealed. Buckle up and hang on for the ride. Our sources say he tried, without success, to escape the dramatic lure of Banks. He couldn’t stay away. To retaliate, or maybe just for fun, he slept with her mother. I mean, come on, King…couldn’t you just say no to Banks? You had to prey on a cougar?”
Zander’s blood pounded in his veins. He felt trapped, caught in the lies of some media-whore reporter. “I did no such thing. I did not sleep with Trisha’s mother.” He hurried to Candace’s side and seized the tablet from her hands. “Does it mention what happened next?”
“So, you did sleep with her.” A glint of victory flashed in Candace’s eyes. She lurched to her feet.
“No! I didn’t say that. I went to her house asking for help.” His eyes raced along the fake-news piece. “There’s nothing about the rest of it. Trisha Banks tried to kill me.”
A collective gasp rippled around the table.
Candace coughed out a laugh. “Nice try, King. You’re making up a story to cover your actions.”
“I am not. Ask Kent.” His arm shot out, pointing at Kent. “Tell them. Tell them the truth.”
“You were pretty messed up that night,” Kent mumbled, staring at the table. “You’d been drinking.”
Zander couldn’t believe his ears. His best friend sat there lying his ass off. “I didn’t fuck Marta Banks, you know that.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Everyone calm down. Let’s think about this. We’re all caught up in reacting to the moment, rather than responding. This is turning into a witch hunt.”
Relief flooded Zander at the support. He sank into his chair.
Tom spoke slowly and clearly. “King lost his arm, lost his girlfriend, lost everything. I believe him when he says he didn’t sleep with Banks’ mother. This is some wicked ploy to bring him down. I refuse to pay it any attention.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe, Tom,” Candace said. “The story’s out there for all to see.”
“Yeah, and I’m going to sue the motherfucker who sold it to the media,” Zander said. “It’s all lies.” Except for the part…He drop-kicked that thought. His heart pounded so hard, he felt faint, like he might keel over at any moment.
“I’m sure you’ll set the record straight. We’ll get a story drawn up for the press. We’ll issue a statement. You know how the media gets. Besides, we’re all men here. Well, except for you, Candace.”
Nervous titters filled the room.
“And, of course, you, Mia.” He inclined his head toward Mia and smiled. “None of us would be beyond paying a girl for a bit of fun in such a situation. The sugar baby, sugar daddy tradition is as old as the hills. Usually, it’s discreet. Zander might have taken it farther than appropriate, but, again, he’s coming out of pretty devastating circumstances, wouldn’t you say?” He turned to each board member.
Joseph and some of the others murmured agreement.
So, I’m back to the cripple, again. I’m the guy they all feel sorry about. Zander blew out his breath, collapsing against his chairback.
Only Candace held firm to her position. “What he did shamed us as a company. He should be removed from the company at once.”
Her botox face showed minimal expression.
“Now, now, Candace,” Tom said, patting her hand. “Let’s give him a chance to make amends.”
“I don’t know what he could possibly do to make amends,” she said with a sniff.
“I say we table any sudden decisions for now,” Tom said. “What say you?”
A round of ayes rang out, interjected by a solid “nay” from Candance.
“The board rules in favor of tabling any decisions to remove Zander from office at this point,” Tom said, without a glance at Candance. “This meeting is adjourned.”
Zander shot to his feet and marched from the office, heading for his own suite. He barreled through the door and slammed it, hard. Then, he beelined for the bar.
Who cares that it’s only 9am?
He poured himself a shot of whiskey and tossed it back, welcoming the fiery bite of the liquor as it burned his throat. He poured another and strode to the sofa. Setting the drink on the side table, he collapsed onto the burnt orange couch. He dragged his hands though his hair, unable to push away the pain in his chest. If the breakup with Trisha had been devastating, this event was cataclysmic, obliterating any hope he had for his future with Effie.
He retrieved his phone from his pocket and rang her. No answer. He left a message. “Effie, this story’s been leaked. It’s all lies.” Mostly. “Please believe me. Call me when you get this message. I’ll explain.”
A few minutes later, Kent burst through the door.
“If you’re here to cheer me up, don’t bother,” Zander said with a wave of his hand. “I’m going to drink until I pass out. When I wake up, I’m going to start over. You can run the company until I sober up.”
He lifted his tumbler of whiskey to his lips and took a swig.
Kent paced around the room, holding his head between his hands. “I’m so sorry, Zander.”
Zander stilled, the glass halfway to his mouth. “For?”
Kent let go of his head and kept pacing. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far, honestly.”
A wicked chill snaked up Zander’s spine. “What, exactly, are you trying to say, Manning?”
“It was only supposed to shake you up. The investigation, I mean. And, then that story…I sold them a half truth. They ran with it, misinterpreting what I conveyed.” He stopped in front of Zander, beseeching him with his gaze. “You have to understand. I care about you. You were getting too close to Effie. She’s only going to break your heart, man, I know it. And you were going to drag the company into the ground.”
Zander’s veins iced over. His breathing became a rapid pant. “This is all your doing? You’re the one who hired the P.I. and leaked the story? Not Trisha?”
“I’m sorry, man. I’m really sorry. I can fix this. I know I can fix it,” Kent said.
“So why didn’t you tell them the truth, the whole story?”
Zander lunged to his feet and grabbed Kent by the lapels. He shook Kent as he yelled.
“You fucking asshole. You destroyed everything and almost cost me my company. And, did you think about the consequences? Trisha’s a lunatic. A rich as fuck nutcase. When she finds out this story’s been leaked she’s going to lose it. She’s going to go after Effie, I know it.”
The night in question exploded into Zander’s memory. He’d been desperate to break it off with Trisha, for good. His self-esteem was sub-zero.
She’d been texting him at all hours. Watching him from afar when he left for work. He’d catch a glimpse of her car, then, she’d zoom off. She’d tell him they were through, then, fucked him in the dark, all while dating Riptide. It was sick, it was twisted, and he’d been an idiot.
So, yeah, he’d been drinking when he left work early to head over to Marta’s. He’d whiskeyed himself through the afternoon, hiding in his office.
It was rush hour, so it took Antonio forever to make the “thirty minutes on a good day” drive. He’d dropped Zander off in front of Marta’s swanky waterfront home over in Bellevue, near Trisha’s condo.
Zander had asked Antonio to pick up another bottle of whiskey for him and return in forty-five minutes.
Zander squinted, struggling to remember the rest. His memory skipped all over the place, like fragments appearing from his subconscious and falling into place.
Marta had greeted him warmly, dressed in a red dress with a plunging neckline.
He’d asked her if she always wore low cut dresses around the house.
She’d laughed and said, “Maybe I was waiting for you.”
She offered him another cocktail. He accepted and sat across from her on her couch, begging her to help him.
“I have an idea, Zan,” she said, a sly look dancing across her face. Then, she came on to him. Rising from the opposite end of the sofa, she sashayed to stand in front of him. She removed the cocktail from his hands and straddled him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He tried to wriggle away.
“I’m going to make you forget you ever wanted my daughter.” She plastered her collagen plumped lips to his and ground her skanky hips against him. She smelled like Trisha—same perfume—so that for a second, he forgot who he was with and responded to her kiss.
He’d been lonely…heartbroken…struggling to deal with his missing limb…and for a second, he needed comfort. He craved to be with someone who accepted him, without having to hide away to be with him.
But then, horrified by his actions, and yanked from his liquor induced fog, he shoved her away. He hated what he’d done. He’d managed to stoop as low as low could get.
And then, all hell broke out.
Trisha ran into the condo. She’d stopped by to see her mom. She saw the kiss through the window. She raced to her parents’ bedroom and got her father’s gun. When she emerged from the bedroom, she held the gun, pointing it straight at Zander.
He tried to wrestle it from her, but he was so drunk, he tripped and fell.
Trisha pounced, like a lioness, pressing the cold metal of the barrel against his temple.
He knew he was a dead man. But death would be welcome if it meant finally leaving Trisha Banks.
But then, Kent had shown up, blasting through the front door like a Marine.
Trisha turned her head to look and Zander managed to get the gun away from her.
After everything was over and they all agreed to not let this mess leak to the media, he’d managed to get the gun out of the house and into his office with no one being the wiser. He kept it hidden, just in case. It had his fingerprints on it. But, sure as shit it had Trisha’s too.
Zander shook his head, coming back to the present and blinked at Kent. “How was it you were in Bellevue that night?”
Kent stilled, stopping his palpations of his jaw. “What do you mean?”
“You live in Belltown, near downtown. That’s a heck of a drive through snarled traffic to get to Bellevue. You told me you were at work and then you told me you were with a client. Which story was true? What were you doing there?”
Kent’s face blanched. “I was, uh…I had to go see…”
“You were sleeping with Marta Banks, weren’t you? She was all dressed up for you. You don’t care what age pussy your dick explores.”
“That’s bullshit, King, and you know it.” He began to sidle toward the exit.
Zander’s mind came into sharp focus like seeing everything clearly for the first time. “Stay where you are. I saw the way you and Marta used to glance at one another.”
“You can’t prove anything,” Kent exclaimed.
“Can’t I? Mrs. Banks might be hard up for money. She might be willing to talk if the price is right.”
“You can’t pin this on me, King. You’re delusional.”
“Hardly. I think I’m seeing things crystal clear.”
Zander barreled across the room, blocking Kent’s exit. He shoved Kent against the wall.
Kent cringed, pinned in place. “What the hell are you doing?”
Zander hauled back his high-tech fist and slugged Kent in the jaw. The plastic and metal hit with a satisfying thud.
Kent’s head whipped to the side. He staggered against the back of one of the burnt orange couches and fell onto it, clutching his face. “Fuck, King, what the fuck did you do to me?”
“I’ve only started, Manning. You’re fired. All your stocks are revoked. I own your ten percent share of the company which means I own the lion’s share.” He raced around the couch, torqued his arm and struck again, this time clocking Kent in the eye.
“Shit,” Kent said, trying to defend himself. He pulled his legs into his abdomen. “You’ve gone off the rails, King.”
“Have I?” Zander whipped his phone free from his jacket pocket, noting that his hand didn’t hurt because it was, well, honed by technology. He took some small measure of satisfaction in that. He pressed the number for security.
When they answered, he said, “I need a team up here right now to remove a former employee. Kent Manning. Right. He can’t get anything out of his office. He’s done here. Then, round up another team to guard my girlfriend, stat.” He gave them the address.
After disconnecting, he said to Kent, “They’ll be right up. You can wait here, wait in your office, I don’t care. What I do care about is that I never want to see your face again, got it?”
“You’re going to pay for this,” Kent said, rubbing his swollen eye.
“Am I? I’d say you’re the one who’s paying,” Zander said. He glanced at his whiskey and thought better of draining it. Only one mission loomed in his brain.
As soon as he saw to Kent’s departure, he was headed straight to Effie’s dorm.