Page 93 of The Pucking Date
“The arrangement is simple,” he purrs. “You run the business by day. At night, I want what we used to have. My key, my visits, whenever I want.”
“And Allegra?”
“A formality. You were always the real fire, Jess. God, the way you used to ride me?—”
I brace against the dresser, stomach churning.
Footsteps on the stairs.
I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Finn, smoothie in hand. His eyes darken the moment he hears Chad’s voice. I hold up a finger.
Stay quiet.
He nods, but the muscle ticking in his jaw says otherwise.
“I’d see you twice a week. More, if I can swing it,” Chad goes on with glee. “I’ll make sure the penthouse has floor-to-ceiling windows. White leather. The kind of place that fits a woman like you. We’ll keep it off the books. Just for us. I’ll get you a card too, for shopping. I remember your taste.”
Finn’s grip on the glass tightens, and I meet his gaze again.
Stay.
Then let the silence stretch for a long beat.
“Wow,” I say, words smooth as ice. “Thank you for being so clear. Makes it much easier to decide.”
A pause. “Yes. It’s simple and clean.”
“I was on the fence before,” I say, pacing slow now. “But hearing you lay it out like this? I think I’ve made up my mind.”
“Excellent.”
“And so I’m just wondering,” I continue, “how Allegravan Alst will feel about that ‘bonus plan’ you have so helpfully and clearly laid out for me? About how you’ll bend me over the white leather couch? And how you are going to let me pick the position?”
“Jess—-”
I glance at Finn. His eyes are wide now, connecting the dots.
“She won’t believe you,” he snaps after a pause, panic rising in his voice as he realizes. “You wouldn’t dare?—”
“Oh, I would. With great pleasure.” I lean against the doorway, still cool. “And she definitely will believe me once she hears your voice saying all this. But maybe I’ll save the recording. In case you ever get bored again and start whispering to sponsors. Or when I see another article about Finn that’s anything less than glowing.”
“You recorded this? You can’t record me without?—”
“New York is a one-party consent state, Chad. You should really brush up on the difference between legal consent and the kind you never really understood.”
His tone sharpens. “I’ll sue you. Don’t screw with me?—”
But I keep going.
“You’re going to listen very carefully now. You’re going to slither back into whatever overpriced rat hole you came from, and you’re going to stay the hell away from me. And from Finn O’Reilly.”
“Jessica—”
“If you so much asbreathenear another Defenders contract,” I say, my voice like steel wrapped in silk, “or ifmy boyfriend’sname shows up in one more article that doesn’t read like a damn love letter, I’ll make sure Allegra hears every word of this call. And if I’m feeling generous, Page Six gets the exclusive.”
That’s when Finn steps forward, taking the phone slowly from my hand.
“Chad,” he says, calm as a loaded gun. “If your name shows up anywhere near hers again—paper, contract, inbox—I’ll skip the warnings and come straight for you. And know that when I’m done, you’ll need dental records to prove who you were.”
