Page 1 of His Christmas Gift

This fiction contains rape scene some people will find disturbing. So, if this can disturb you this is not the book for you

I turn my head to glare at my partner, my hand curls into a fist I wish I could pound into his face. “Look, Max. I know you’ve been stealing from the company. I’ve got proof. I only need you to tell me who’s helping you. I’m calling security to take you to prison.” I reach for my office phone; he reaches out and lays his hand over mine.

“Please Griff, wait.” His eyes plead with mine; his face lined heavily in the past twenty years we’ve been partners in our publishing house. I still can’t believe he stole three million dollars from our company when we make billions. It doesn’t make sense but it’s there in front of me in the spread sheets.

“I’m too old to go to prison. You can’t.” He is older than me, in his fifties while I’m forty. He was almost thirty when we started Griff-Harris Publishing Company. He had the capitol and I had the brains.

I lean forward onto one forearm, my other hand still on the phone. “Tell me, Max. Why? With all the money you’ve made over the years from this company why do you need a measly three million? Answer me that.”

His eyes drop to the desk and he fidgets his body in his chair. He’s going to try and lie. I head that off.

“Don’t lie. Tell me the truth.”

He drops his head down to his hands on the desk. “I can’t Griff. I just can’t.”

“Fine.” I press the button on the phone to talk to my secretary. “Callie…”

“No, Griffin, please.”

“Yes, Mr. Van Halen?”

I have my finger on the button, waiting for his response with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Never mind Callie. I’ll let you know if I need anything else. Thank you.”

“Sure, Mr. Van Halen. Just let me know what I can do.”

“Go ahead, Max. Talk.” I sit back in my chair and fiddle with a coin I’ve had since my childhood. My mother told me it was my uncle who died of cancer. He was more of a father than my own was. I move it from one finger to another absentmindedly. Listening to Max explain. Except he’s not. He’s rambling.

His daughter’s face slips into my mind as he rattles on. She’s around twenty or so now. I’ve watched her grow up into a beautiful, smart young woman. One I’m seriously attracted to. And she’s my employee.

“Max, get to the point.” I shake my head at him, I wasn’t even listening enough to notice if he had gotten to the fucking point.

“Look, Griff. I fucked up. I know I did. I got distracted by a young pretty face who pretended was interested in me and it went to my head. Now she wants three mill or she’ll go to my wife and the media. I had to do something.” He swipes his hands down his worn face, scrubbing as if his troubles will be wiped away.

“You didn’t have three million, Max? Really?”

“What can I give you in exchange for it?”

Loud laughter and giggles erupt outside my office door. Where’s Callie? Although she should be out there with the rest of the employees having fun at our Thanksgiving party. I press the button to her desk again. Giggles come over the speaker and a clearing of a throat that sounds like hers. “Yes, sir?”

“Go and enjoy yourself at the party like everyone else. Have a good Thanksgiving.” Although it sounds like she might already be having fun.

Giggles again over the speaker and a gasp, “thanks Mr. Van Halen.”

“My house is worth over three million. I can give you that.”

“Max, why don’t you have three million dollars? How did you piss it all away?” Thoughts of a blond-haired blue-eyed girl dancing and drinking overtakes my thoughts.

His voice seems to come from a billion miles away as I think about his daughter. The daughter I watched grow up and shouldn’t be thinking about in any way I am.

“You wouldn’t know being single, but having a wife and a daughter at university is very expensive.”

I can picture her dark blue eyes half closed in ecstasy, her blond hair wrapped around my fist, my big cock filling her mouth and down her throat.

“Griff. Did you hear me?” Max’s voice has exasperation filling it.

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