Page 141 of All Twerk, No Play

The security guard tightened his grip on Spencer’s flailing arms, pressing my ex-husband out of my life and informing me that the police had already been called. Courtney let out a shaky breath. I offered to stay while she filed a police report or accompany her to HR whenever she was ready. She just wanted to go home, so I asked security to escort her out and my driver to take her home.

Murmurs filtered in from the hallway. The rumor mill would already be rife with gossip—the CFO getting escorted out had a way of shaking things up, and it would get even worse when the CEO emerged minutes later with his blood on her designer dress.

“Oh my God, Victoria,” Connor rushed in, takeout bag swinging from his wrist. He took in the blood on my dress and the wild look in my eye, reeling at how unhinged I probably looked. “I was only gone for fifteen minutes. This is what you do when you get hangry?”

I started laughing, my bloodstained hands cradling my head as the adrenaline dropped. He wrapped his suit jacket over my shoulders, forcing water into my trembling hands. Tears sprang to my eyes anyway, because Connor—as incredible as he was—wasn’t the person I wanted by my side as Courtney and I made our statements. The detective handed over his card so I could send him what had backed up to the cloud before the phone smashed.

I returned Connor's jacket, held my head high and snapped my heels down the hallway into my office … where I could finally fall apart, relieved for the solitude but also wishing I weren’t alone. There was only one person I wanted in this moment, one person who would hold out his arms for me to step into. I reached for my phone, wanting to call him just to hear his voice, but the detective had confiscated my phone as evidence.

So I popped in my headphones and hit play on his YouTube channel. I needed to hear him, to feel like somebody understood me, to feel less—

“You fired Spencer?” Dad stormed into my office. I pulled my headphones out as I stood to face my father, who looked angrier than I’ve ever seen him. “Of all the impulsive decisions … I thought your head was straighter than this. That you wouldn’t let your emotions rule you.”

“You don’t care that I caught him sexually harassing an employee?” I lifted my chin, not backing down from my decision. “Or that when I confronted him, he assaulted me?”

Dad ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I care, but you have to go through the proper channels.”

“Is that why he wasn’t fired 13 years ago, when he destroyed my life?” I asked with a choking breath. “Because of the properfuckingchannels?”

“He wasn’t fired because I was alone here!” Dad yelled. “You left, Victoria. Richard turned a blind eye, so it was me against the Larssons. Of course they buried it. And now you’re going to look like the scorned ex-wife trying to get revenge.”

“I’ll handle the PR fallout,” I said, adding another task to my already endless to-do list.

But Dad had gone still, his jaw tight, eyes locked on my computer monitor—where Cruz’s sweet face stared out from the screen, singing his love for me. Dad sneered, “And then I come in here to strategize fixing your fuck-up … and you’re wasting your time watching that clown."

My voice was venomous. “Take that back.”

“Every day you disappear and come out crying. Is this why? You’re being distracted by this attention grab?”

“That’s not why he—”

“This ends now, Victoria. You have responsibilities to this company. Time for you to grow up and move on,” he said, slamming my office door behind him.

"Ain't No Sunshine," Bill Withers

Victoria

Wednesdaynight,Istaggeredinto Dad’s apartment just before midnight. I called his name and braced myself, not sure whether I wanted his condemnation or silence. My greeting went unanswered, bouncing off the cold tile.

He wasn’t home again, just like last night. I’d spent two days meeting with legal and PR, expecting Dad to stroll into the conference room to discuss the fallout of firing the CFO.

And boy, had there been fallout.

The only remaining Larsson, being escorted out with a still-bleeding broken nose, his ex-wife the culprit. The vicious rumors about our lovers quarrel had started within minutes.

The police recovered my recording until the moment the phone broke, leaving me without video proof of his assault. Courtney filed a police report, but Spencer’s minions slandered her credibility since her video confessed to previous sexual activity that they claimed was consensual.

Thankfully the incident hadn’t leaked to the press yet, but we needed to be prepared. After hours of debating and a migraine lingering behind my eyes, I retreated to Dad’s vacant penthouse.

In my room, I used a wire coat hanger to unzip my sheath dress, finally inhaling what felt like my first full breath all day. Hanging it in the small closet, I missed my massive walk-in closets in Saratoga. Once again I considered finding a place of my own, or moving into one of Richard’s inherited properties … but the idea of living alone again made my stomach roll.

Sometime in the past three weeks, my heart had split into two halves. Victoria Blackstone showed up every day at work, polished and brilliant, the first to arrive and last to leave. She was lauded by the media for stepping into a nearly impossible role, admired by her staff for having a spine of steel.

The other half, Tori, was locked away deep in my heart, only to emerge when the rest of the world had gone to bed. At first, Tori tried to bring some joy back into her life by turning on her mopey bitch rock … but lately she hadn’t even had the energy for that.

As I pulled on my pajamas, Jurisprudence leaped from her windowsill perch. I scooped her up and buried my face in her fur as I walked to the kitchen, only to find the refrigerator stocked with trays of precooked meals. All the nutrients, none of the love.

I choked down grilled salmon and sweet potato, bribing my cat with morsels of fish, then took her back to my bedroom and closed my curtains against the bright city lights.

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