Dirty Headlines

Page 64

“It’s the blond girl, isn’t it? She looks like a homewrecker. All sweet and pretty with her please-save-me cheap outfit. And Converse. Who wears fucking Converse with a dress?”

Judith Humphry does, and it makes me so hard I’m pretty sure the rest my body turns anemic.

“Shut up,” I ordered, bracing myself against my desk and staring her down.

I swear the teenaged version of her I’d dated over a decade ago had been sane. Shallow, but sane. Then again, when you’re a teenager, you’re not looking for a great intellectual opponent. Her ass and agreeable nature had been enough to keep me satiated for the first decade of our relationship.

“You know I can find out with little to no effort, right?” She perked up on the black leather couch, sniffing again. Her mascara ran down her cheeks in thick streaks, and it made her look like Alice Cooper, not to mention that her dress was more appropriate for a Vegas strip club than a newsroom. She unwrapped said dress, flashing me her tits and pink pussy.

“That won’t be necessary, and neither will strip teasing,” I deadpanned.

Her eyes brightened. “Does that mean you’re getting rid of her?”

“Not her. You,” I said simply.

We stared at each other for a few seconds while she digested this information, her face transforming from agonized to amused. Did she not understand English? Why was she so smug?

“You can’t break up with me. What about Newsflash Corp?”

“I’ll live without it. Getting rid of you is top priority. Put some clothes on.”

She stood up and shoved my chest, not moving me an inch—partly because I was braced against the desk, but also because I was quite literally twice her size. I wondered if she realized the right-hand wall of my office was made of glass, then remembered that she gave very little shit about who saw her naked.

“You’re a bastard. We grew up together. We’re childhood sweethearts.”

“If that’s your only defense, it’s lacking. Because I can crush it to pieces by bringing up something you did a little over a year ago.” I chuckled darkly. “Keep the ring, cancel everything else. There will not be a wedding in August, Lily. It’s over.”

And as I said that, I realized there was not even an ounce of me that was remorseful—not even for letting her keep my family’s ring (it was tainted once she’d worn it anyway) or the missed opportunity for so-called world domination Kate was always teasing me about.

“I’m going to make your life a living hell, Célian.” Lily wiggled her finger in my face. I took her finger and lowered it, wrapping her dress back around her waist for her.

“I dare you, sweetheart. It’s been too long since I showed you who I really am. I cannot wait for you to get reacquainted with the asshole version everyone else has been privy to for the past year, partly because of you.” I couldn’t dump all the blame on Lily, though. My father had taken the Worst Dad of the Century trophy, leaving others to eat dust.

“You’re insane!” she yelled in my face.

“That’s rich, coming from a half-naked woman who just broke a monitor and accused a gay, middle-aged woman of having an affair with her fake fiancé.”

“You’re weird. And a smartass. I don’t even like you anymore.” She walked over to the door, made a U-turn, stared at me helplessly, and shook her head. “Tell me how to make it right, and I will.” Her voice cracked around her plea.

“Get out.”

The door slammed in my face, and my eyes immediately traveled to the newsroom through the glass walls. Judith was staring at me, like she wanted my eyes to bleed out the truth of what had happened in my office. But I couldn’t invite her in. Not so soon after kicking Lily out. That would be transparent, downright risky.

I dialed Brianna’s extension and asked her to summon Judith for a one on one rundown meeting in three hours. I asked her to do the same for Kate, Elijah, and James. I had nothing to say to the last three. I just didn’t want it to look suspicious.

I fell into my seat and closed my eyes. A text message dinged on my phone, and I flipped it over to see who it was.

Dan: Your father is at a meeting right now, selling ad space to a Vegas-based marketing company that specializes in condoms, tobacco, gambling equipment, and sex toys. I’m sitting in the same restaurant. They’re talking seven figures.

This deal would be suicide for the LBC brand, and my father knew it. This was a prime example of how far he’d go to sabotage things for me.

Record everything please, I ordered.

It was time to take this matter to the board and bury what was left of my relationship with the man who hated me just a little less than I hated him.

Three meaningless conversations later (Kate was happy to know I’d called the engagement off with Lily; Elijah and I talked baseball; and James tried to give me some fatherly advice about women and relationships, only to be sent out with his tail between his legs.), Judith entered my office.

The minute she walked in, the urge to push her against the door, spread her legs, and fuck her relentlessly burned through my veins, but I settled for an easy smirk.

“Humphry.”

“Sir.”

I was seated behind my desk—something my erection was very grateful for—and I motioned for her to take a seat across from me. She did so obediently, her back straight. I handed her the notebook I’d managed to retrieve from Lily. It was wrinkled as fuck. Jude took it in shaky hands.

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