I was shocked, to say the least, when I walked out of my office and saw Crawford stepping off the elevator. He groaned when he saw me as well. I took the groan as a compliment, a definite mark in my favor. Maybe I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with when I was on the opposing team, but that fact served its purpose. The more miserable I made him, the more likely he was to eventually give up and turn over his half of the company to yours truly just to get away from me. So if Noah left himself open, you bet your sweet ass I took the shot.
“It’s Sunday, Crawford. What are you doing here?”
“I have work to catch up on,” he said, pulling out the key to his office. Obviously he was going to blow me off, but I just couldn’t let him do that before I’d had my fun.
“You left early last night. No worries, though. I explained to the board members and clients that you had a hot little number that was demanding your attention,” I said smugly. He knew the translation; I cut his balls off and handed them over in a paper bag. Score one for the home team. His inattention to them gave me the advantage in the little game we played for control.
He scoffed and shook his head.
“Speaking of … she’s one hellcat of a woman, that Delaine. Eeeew-eee!” I crowed. “Got a hell of a mouth on her, too. What was it she called me?” I asked, tapping my chin as I recalled her words. “Oh, yeah. A remora. Seems to think your dick is bigger than mine, which might or might not be true, but that didn’t stop your other whore from jumping on the David Stone express, now did it? Of course, unlike Julie, Delaine sure was quick to defend her man. Passionate about it, too. I could use someone like her on my list of go-tos.” Bingo! That one had hit home.
Hatred flashed in his eyes. Mistake number one: the more he cared about her, the more I wanted her. He closed the distance between us in half a heartbeat and pinned me against the wall with his forearm to my throat. Mistake number two: assault in the workplace just added another weapon to my arsenal.
“You stay the fuck away from her! Do you hear me?” He seethed, his words forced through clenched teeth as he pointed a finger in my face. “Stay the fuck away from her! That is your one and only warning, Stone. I swear to God, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Mistake number three: terroristic threatening. I might need to get a protection order, you know, because I was terrified for my life and all and shouldn’t have to be subjected to a hostile work environment.
I flashed him my winning smile because I had him just where I wanted him. It was exactly that sort of emotional reaction I’d always warned him about when it came to getting attached to women. He wasn’t on his A game, wasn’t thinking clearly, and he certainly had no idea that he’d given me all the ammunition I needed to ambush him and steal away his pride and joy. Scarlet Lotus was mine for the taking. And take I would.
His cell phone rang. For a moment, he looked like he wasn’t going to answer it, but then he swore under his breath and finally backed away, restoring the flow of air through my trachea. I did my best to cover my cough as I rubbed at the spot while he answered his phone. Crawford was no wuss. I knew if we ever went toe-to-toe in a physical altercation, he’d be a formidable foe, but no way was I going to let him know that.
“What?” he barked into the receiver.
I ignored him and started toward the elevator because, quite frankly, I was bored with him. I already had what I needed and still had that appointment, so …
“Polly, slow down. Who?… Dez? Who the fuck is Dez?… Shit, no … Oh, God, no. Where is she?… No, no, that’s fine. University?… Okay, just calm down. I’ll call Daniel, he’s on staff there … Yeah, go … Just go be with her, Polly.”
I had no clue what that one-sided conversation was about, but then again, I didn’t really give a fuck. As the elevator dinged and the door opened, he looked back at me briefly and then pulled the phone away from his ear. “I meant what I said, David. Stay away from her,” he warned again.
“Oh, yeah. Sure thing. You have my word.” I gave him a mock salute as the doors closed. He knew there was nothing doing, but it sounded like he had his hands full with whatever crisis that little gnat had called him about. Which just gave me a wide-open berth to take care of business.
Down in the parking garage, I climbed into my red Viper and cranked the custom stereo before I peeled out of the parking garage with tires squealing. All the more inadequate modes of transportation on the road ahead of me split like the Red Sea to allow me passage. It was plausible that it was just the fact that traffic was normally sparse on an early Sunday morning, but I’d like to think it was because I was a fucking god behind the wheel of that piece of masterful craftsmanship.
“That’s right, you sad bastards … make room for greatness.”
I pulled into the parking lot of Foreplay, a popular party spot for the college kids—and a place with big business deals that had been successfully kept on the down low. So down low they were underground. Hos and schmos on the top, real-life whores and business moguls in the pit. It was the perfect framework.
I walked up to the back door and gave two knocks in rapid succession, six in a heartbeat rhythm. Right on cue, Terrence answered the door.
“Mr. Stone! Right on time, as usual,” he lied convincingly. I was at least twenty minutes late, but like I said, time stood still for David Stone. “Come in, come in.”
I stepped inside the dark entrance and inhaled deeply. “Aw, the sweet, sweet smell of pussy and money in the morning,” I crooned. “Is there any better combination?”
“No way, man.” He laughed and clapped me on the back. “Mr. Christopher is waiting for you.”
Flashing my award-winning smile, I said, “Of course he is. I know the way.”
He nodded and went about his business as I walked down the corridor to Scott’s office and stepped inside without even bothering to knock. Scott was kicked back in his chair, smoking a joint. The day’s take was spread out on his desk along with blocks of the latest shipment that he’d yet to distribute to his runners.
“Hey,” he lazily greeted me, his eyes barely slivers through squinted lids as he exhaled his ganja smoke.
I shut the door and shrugged out of my jacket before nodding to the fluffy white lines of snow he’d arranged on a little rectangular mirror. “You started the party without me?”
“Just thought I’d get the sample ready in advance.” He sat up and butted the joint in the crystal ashtray on the corner of his desk, and then started shuffling the ledgers before him.