Her head rocks forward and back like a bobblehead. “Uh...”
It gives me a chance to play hero. “Whatever you have to say, you can say around her.”
Except, Jim doesn’t give a shit about heroes and villains. He told me once the whole dichotomy between the two was a made up fantasy to keep everyone bickering. Maybe he’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s pretty damn good at playing a villain.
“Three old fashioneds. Glenlivet Distilled,” he says.
I raise my voice. “Jim.”
Ali stops me from overreacting. “No. It’s fine. I’ll get the ape his drink,” she says.
Jim doesn’t even flinch.
This is going better than I thought. He’s drunk. In about two minutes, people will demand I grab him a cab. I’ll look like a fucking hero all the way back to my photo room.
My heart pounds against my chest. Adrenaline surging, I clench my molars and take a thousand deep breaths. It’s been years since I’ve felt like I was winning. Tonight could be my lucky night.
“You’ve seen my phone calls,” he says.
I nod. “It’s only been a few days,” I argue, spinning to show him the work my staff has made for the team. “We’ve been setting this up. It’s all for you.”
He cracks his neck and bites down harder on his cigar. “I didn’t need all of this. I needed you to call me back.”
Narrowing my eyes, I pat him on the shoulder. This time, I’m the one squeezing his muscle. He doesn’t squirm nearly hard enough, but it’s something. “I don’t work for you.” I point to my name on the side of the building. “See that? That’s my name.”
“We are the ones propping you up,” he growls. “Don’t tempt me. I will shut you down.”
People are starting to look. I can hear the faint tones of guests whispering.
“Then shut me down,” I say. “You think I need this place? I have a couple of billion. It may not be as much as you own, but it’s enough.”
He wobbles. Suddenly, he doesn’t have much to say. I’ve found the keys to his control, and it’s throwing him for a loop.
I look at him as if he was under a microscope. “You okay, Jim?”
He sucks in a macho laugh, turning to face the crowd of gathered people with a slick smile. “Am I okay?”
I wave to the people watching gleefully. “It’s all right. Nothing to see here. Just a little too much fun at the party,” I say.
I look over at Ali. She’s got three drinks in her hands. I motion to her to set one down. It’s safe now, I think.
Jim catches my motion and scoffs. When Ali returns empty-handed, he’s fuming.
I make eye contact with another guest that looks vaguely familiar. “If you’ll excuse us, we have other people we need to talk to.”
Jim raises his brow. “Wait, a second,” he says. “I’m not through with you. I want to talk to the model.”
Ali leans forward, flattered. “Oh, I’m not a model. I’m just a teacher, but thank you.”
I try to pull her away. That was our moment to leave. After one compliment, she’s ready to talk the idiot’s ear off.
His movements are unstable, and his speech is slurred. “Oh, I’m sure you’re a fine teacher,” he says, grinning far too wide for my liking.
“We have to go,” she says.
Jim grabs her hand. “Before you do, I need to say one thing to your himbo here.”
Himbo. Nice.
“All good. We’re just going to make our way to the elevator,” I say, words dropping like broken piano keys.
“If you would’ve just called me back, I could’ve told you the news,” he says to me.
“What news?” Ali asks.
“Look, honey, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings tonight,” he says. “But your man has left me no choice.”
She scrunches her face. “Why would my feelings be hurt?”
He sucks in a tired, drunk breath.
It doesn’t matter what I do. I can’t stop someone from speaking. He’s about to spill the beans on my elaborately stupid plan to save my own ass at the expense of her. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but I wasn’t in love with Ali back then.
I was arrogant. My ego was bigger than Brian’s.
“Because we went with a different woman,” he says.
Ali looks at me. “Okay, now I’m lost.”
Jim chuckles. “Jesus, Marc. Do you tell his lady anything?”
I don’t have to look at Ali to know that her eyes are on fire. This is worse than if Brian shouted it out on the rooftops.
“What’s going on, Marc?” she asks.
Facing her, I’m reminded of the first time we met. Only, this time, I’m Ragamuffin, and Jim is Rowdy. She’s going to side with him, and I’ll be left with the assholes in this building. I’ll still be the same man I was before I met her. That doesn’t seem good enough.
Any hint of a good time falls from my face. “It was just a stupid plan,” I say. “A horrible idea.”
She taps her heel. “Tell me.”
Here it goes. “I sort of, kind of told the shareholders you’d help out with the magazine.”
“Help out,” she repeats. “What the hell does that even mean, Marc? Just tell me the truth.”
I exhale, lowering my head for her to decapitate me. “I made up a story to keep this stupid company going,” I say. “At the time, it seemed like a good idea. We just met. You were inspiring.”
She slides her head to the left. “I don’t believe this.”
There’s no use in stopping, so I keep going. “I told them you had agreed to model. I said we could use you for the first issue of Momma Bear.”
“You gave them our story,” she says. “The gas station. My car...”
Ready to come to terms with the reality that this is probably ending, I nod. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
I didn’t realize my stupidity until recently. That doesn’t score me any brownie points. It just makes me
