Page 5 of All That Glitters

Empire sidles forward and hops up on the counter beside the machine, way too close for comfort. She crosses one leg over the other in a slow, deliberate gesture. I keep my eyes solidly on the coffee slowly percolating. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m doing. Today, tomorrow, the rest of my life.” She pouts—I see it from the corner of my eye. “Remind me what you want me to do?”

I swallow over a groan. I’ve got a few things in mind, but none of them I’m able to voice.

“Come on, tell me my plans for the day, Marcus,” Empire taunts.

“I don’t give a shit what little brats want to do with their time,” I mutter, my back teeth clenching painfully, my eyes trained on the stream of espresso. Once the shot is done, I start the process again, handing the first cup off to Empire. “The only thing I know is that you’ve got a big appointment this morning. I fucking made sure it was on your virtual calendar yesterday.”

She doesn’t even thank me for the coffee before reaching over to grab the sugar and ruining the shot with an entire tablespoon.

“You have nothing better to do, and no one left to boss around, so you’ve got to pick on me. Or maybe it’s because you didn’t sleep last night, and now you’re a grumpy old man.”

Not wrong. I hadn’t gone back to sleep once her screams woke me. “Whose fault is that?

She lifts the cup to her nose and scowls at it. “You didn’t get me any creamer.”

“Worry less about creamer and more about getting ready for the day,” I warn. “Go take a shower, put on clean clothes, and check your damn calendar. Enough with these games.” My own espresso shot spills out much slower than hers, and a muscle ticks in my jaw while I wait.

“I am clean,” Empire insists.

“About the same as a crackhead on the street corner.”

She gasps, scowls, the expression so ingrained in her psyche that I wonder if she even had to think about it. “Get fucked, Marcus. Maybe it will improve your attitude.”

“My attitude?”

“You heard what I said.”

“I’m having a little trouble believing you, little girl. Maybe you’re out of touch with reality because you’ve chosen to hole up like fucking Gollum in your room and not shower.” I’ve never had a problem getting fucked, by life and by women.

It’s been too long, though, only me and my right hand getting the job done. What I wouldn’t give to have her sweet, plump lips wrapped around me while I gag the sass right out of her.

“I’m not going to shower just because the big bad asshole of Hollywood decided he wants to exert power over me.” She says it with a particularly annoying smirk.

Words won’t work on her. We’ve been around and around too many arguments to count, with her ability to bullshit getting better with age. She comes by it naturally. I never managed to win a fight with her mother, Olivia. The only thing we ever agreed on was the trajectory of her career, and she trusted me enough to allow me to take her to new heights.

Empire has the particular ability to twist whatever I say into whatever she wants it to be and refuses to listen to any nudging, gentle or otherwise.

Rather than allow her to snare me, I haul her off the countertop, grabbing her when she’s not expecting it.

“Marcus!” she screeches directly next to my ear.

I sling her over my shoulder and turn, skidding on coffee grounds. Her fists beat against my back, completely ineffectual, and I swallow hard. Her breasts press against my shoulder, her ass right next to my face, close enough for me to bite. Round, shapely… Fuck me, it has been too long.

I stride with her toward the bathroom, the brat kicking and screaming the entire time.

“Marcus, seriously. What the hell are you doing? Let go of me. Ow!” She whines the last part, but I refuse to let go. “Your shoulder is digging into my ribs!”

“Shut it. You should know by now that I’m not swayed by tantrums.”

Her bedroom is down a short hallway from the kitchen, and within seconds, we’re in the bathroom. I dump her on her feet, dropping my arms to my side while she struggles to regain her balance.

“You’re manhandling me!” Empire crosses her arms over her chest, the movement pressing her breasts higher as she sulks.

I point a warning finger at her face. “Get clean. You’re wasting my time and yours. We’ve got a big day ahead.”

“And if I refuse?” she asks.

“If you don’t shower then I will strip your clothes off and wash you myself. I’m not playing.”

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