Final Call (Call #2)(55)
Author: Emma Hart

“Like what, exactly?”

He wipes some tissue along me, tenderly wiping me clean, and passes me my panties. “Sorry. I don’t have clean ones,” he murmurs. “And things I don’t want to discuss while you’re lying on my desk after I f**ked you.”

I sit up, courtesy of his arms around my back and lifting me, and brush my thumb along his jaw. “Let’s deal with it, baby. Together. As one.”

“We will be, but I’m still not discussing it while you’re on my desk.”

“Oh, for f**k’s sake.” I stand, stepping to the side of him. “There. I’m not on your desk anymore.”

Aaron looks at my hand. “And you’re also not wearing any underwear.”

I tug my dress down my thighs and stuff my wet panties into the pocket of his pants. “And I won’t be for the rest of the day, so that’s a moot point. Now. Talk.”

His phone rings and he holds his finger up. “Yes?”

“Mr. Stone?” Dottie’s voice comes through the speakerphone. “I gathered the information you asked for this morning.”

“Thank you, Dottie. Can you bring it in?”

I cough quietly and point at the floor. More precisely, the mess of papers, files, and pens covering it.

Aaron runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “On second thought, give me a minute.”

“Of course.” She clicks off the line, and Aaron stalks toward me, a fiery amusement reflecting in his eyes.

“You realize you’ll be reorganizing all these later, yes?” He scoops the files and papers up in one swift movement and replaces the pens in the jar next to his laptop.

“Why? You’re the one who put them there.” I poke him in the chest with raised eyebrows.

He slaps my ass slightly. “We’re not getting into this when my assistant is walking into my office in…right now.” He kisses me quickly and turns to face Dottie as she eases the door open after a couple of light knocks.

“Mr. Stone?”

“Come in and shut the door behind you,” Aaron orders, sitting behind his desk.

I stand to the side and wrap my arms around my stomach, the playful, sexy mood of only minutes ago dissipating into a much heavier one that feels somewhat suffocating.

Dottie takes a seat on the opposite side of his desk and places a folder in front of her. “I called around this morning and put some feelers out. What I know, so far, after promising an intern at The Seattle Insider that risking her job would be worth her while…” She pauses, catching my confused look, and one side of her lips quirk up. “After bribing her,” she adds. Oh. Ah. “Naomi met with them on the day after you and Dayton returned from London.”

“The day after I moved in.” I look at Aaron. He nods once and puts his hand out without returning my gaze.

Dottie hands him the folder. “She promised them the ‘scoop’ on Dayton’s past employment for a fee higher than it’s worth. The story—as you can see in the file—is ready to go into print at the first word from her.”

My fingers dig into my sides. Shit. She’s really planned it all out. I step up behind Aaron and skim the paper in his hands.

A sick feeling rises in my stomach.

I don’t know how she managed it, but she’s uncovered everything but my bra size. My clients, my schedule, my fees… Everything. She knows absolutely everything.

“The Seattle Insider, you say?” Aaron looks up and taps his finger against his mouth thoughtfully. “What would they want with this? It’s not sleazy tabloid material. Why isn’t she running it with a bigger press?”

“Because they’re desperate. They’ve been running out of stories for months, and their readership has been going with it. They’re willing to pay a lot of money for something that will put them back in people’s hands. A story on Seattle’s version of royalty is the way to do that.”

“Interesting,” he replies after a long moment. Slowly, he turns to look at me, and I see a spark in his eye. One that screams of an idea, something that could only be accomplished by someone with money. The money he has.

He looks back to Dottie. “Get Sheila to deal with rearranging my afternoon schedule. I want you to send out more of those feelers and see if you can find out just how desperate the Insider is.” He pulls his wallet from his pocket and slides several bills across the table. “I might be interested in broadening my portfolio of investments.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You’re going to buy The Insider?”

Aaron looks at me across the table, sucking up a string of spaghetti like a child. I wrinkle my nose at the action, and he laughs.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve gone completely crazy?”

“Buying a tabloid. You could pay them off instead.”

“Paying people off doesn’t always work. As soon as the money is in their hands, all bets are off, especially for a company like them. Dottie said it herself—the only reason they’re running the story and paying Naomi an extortionate fee is because they’ll fold if they don’t. If I step in, buy the company, and keep them afloat, they have no need to pay her and run the story.”

“Okay, so I understand that.” I put my fork on the table. “But do you really want to be associated with them?”

“They’ll have a regular investment from a silent partner. My name wouldn’t be connected to them in any way.”

“You say it like it’s so easy. Like, what? You’ll just roll up to The Insider’s office and tell them you’re buying them? Slap a contract on the table in front of the dude who owns it?”

He smirks slowly, the curve of his lips both tantalizing and amusing. “Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. I’ll tell them I’m buying their company or they’ll find themselves unable to sell another paper regardless of the supposedly breaking news stories they print.”

“Really? You’d destroy their company?”

He levels his gaze on me. It’s steady and firm, honesty reigning supreme in the blue of his eyes. “I told you this morning that I’d kill a man if it meant protecting you. What makes you think I won’t rip a shitty little tabloid to shreds to do the same thing?”

***

A sheen of sweat covers my skin as I pound my feet against the treadmill. After more than two weeks of not exercising, I feel a little bit out of it. A lot out of it.