Prologue

Ethan – 6 months ago

“And we’re back with Ethan Mahoney, former model for Versace, Guess, Armani and pretty much every designer brand on the planet,” Samantha Stevens flashed her broad toothy grin at the camera and the audience behind it, leaning in like she was sharing a secret. Between her and ten million of her closest friends. “Now a household name thanks to his healthy living empire, Ethan is here with us today to talk about his newest product, Goddess on the Go .” She turned to me with that phony smile and stuck her chest out just enough to draw the eye. “Tell us about it.”

I sighed and leaned back in the chair that looked plush and comfortable from the audience, from off-stage, but up close these fuckers were worse than those hard-plastic chairs at the DMV. They were designed to keep you on edge so little Miss Stevens could jab you until you cried. Well she was barking up the wrong fucking tree because I was a professional. Been in front of the camera since I was a teenager. “Goddess on the Go is just what it sounds like, a food and smoothie delivery service that’s perfect for the woman on the go. Whether you’re a domestic goddess or a busy corporate goddess, healthy meals and smoothies will be delivered to your door each day in ten select cities.”

“Wow that does sound incredible, doesn’t it ladies? And gentlemen, I see we have three men in the audience today!” She clapped and like the sheep they were, the audience joined in with raucous applause. For the appearance of a few men. “It looks like everyone is interested in your quest to live healthier and happier.”

I flashed my own cover model smile, but I didn’t feel it today. But if I could shoot a swimsuit campaign on a beach in Monaco with the flu, then I could make it through this interview. “I am happy and grateful for every person who feels inspired by me or my company.”

She leaned in and my body tensed because my older brother Jax’s words rang in my head. “When she leans in and rests her chin on her fist, she’s going in for the kill.” What exactly the alleged kill was supposed to be, I had no idea but I sat there. And waited. “Speaking of inspiration, we would all love to know what inspired you to make this change? The modeling world isn’t exactly known for being a place of healthy choices and clean living.”

“Well that much is true,” I gave a self-deprecating smile to the audience, drawing more laughter from them. “But that’s exactly what inspired me. I wanted to know if it was possible to be happy and healthy without resorting to extremes.” That was most of the truth, if not all of it.

“Rumor has it that your transformation was because of a woman.”

And there it was. The fucking kill. Though she didn’t mention her by name, probably because she had no idea, I knew exactly who she meant. The one time I had foolishly thought myself to be in love with a woman, a gorgeous six-foot-tall Hungarian who everyone called Kat. Not me though, I loved to call her Katarina because it fit so well with her nearly white blonde hair, icy blue eyes that were almost transparent and pale flawless skin. She looked more like royalty than a model, but she was a model and in the end, that had been the problem. Her desire to be a top model had been the only thing that drove her and she did whatever it took to have the “right look”, even if that meant starving herself. She subsisted on nothing more than champagne and cocaine most days as her profile in the industry soared. She’d gotten on the cover of Vogue and three days after that shoot she’d overdosed in hotel room in Johannesburg. In the end, I wasn’t enough for her to want to be healthy. To live.

“Uh Ethan, are you still with us?”

I blinked and looked up at her, so angry and ready to unleash it on her but I knew I couldn’t. “Yes, sorry. My interest in healthy living was, as I told you, a desire to stay fit and healthy in a way that I could sustain it for the long term.”

“Really? Because someone close to you said it was a woman and our audience really wants that story.” She turned crisp red eyebrows to the audience who unleashed catcalls and shouts of encouragement.

Now they were all starting to piss me off. “Well you’re not going to get it.”

She frowned, but I could tell she wasn’t put off. Yet. “Oh, come on, tell us! Tell us!” With her encouragement the crowd of thirty, forty and fifty-something women all began chanting, “Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!”

It was my turn to lean in close, to make sure this talk show host who fancied herself the next Oprah but who wasn’t fit to wash Oprah’s dirty underwear, knew who she was dealing with. “Some things Samantha, are private. That is one of them.”

“There’s no such thing as privacy among friends, is there?”

“Really? Then why haven’t you told them about your private life?”

She hesitated a moment, blinked to show a momentary flash of fear. “What do you mean? I talk about my husband all the time and our struggles with conceiving.”

I smiled and though I knew I might be inviting trouble, her insistence overrode my good sense. “But have you told them why you can’t conceive? Have you shared with them that you’re missing a certain appendage to help get your husband in the mood?” The low murmurs of the audience were drowned out by her loud, shocked gasped. “Doesn’t feel so good when people try to get you to talk about things you’ve made clear were off limits, does it?” With that I stood, unhooked my microphone and stormed off the stage.

Fuck Samantha Stevens.

***

Ethan — 3 months ago

“Something has to be done about this, starting with you.” Brian Lucas, head of public relations for my company, Aegle Enterprises, pointed at me with a furious expression on his face.

I sat back, worried but refusing to show it as I sat surrounded by my team which included my older brothers Roc and Jax, Brian, and my VP Jeff. “Isn’t that your job Brian?”

“It’s my job to put a positive spin on shit, but when the face of the company, the President, outs Samantha Stevens’ husband on live national television, there ain’t a lipstick bright enough to pretty that shit up.” Brian paced again, and I knew he was really pissed because the man would never do anything to damage his expensive three-piece suits.

“Fine, I’ll do another interview.”

“No!” Jeff and Jax both yelled it at the same time then looked at each other in surprise.

“Ethan, you are the problem, little brother. I’m sorry to say that to you but you are. Every interview you’ve done since Stevens has gotten progressively worse.”

“It’s not that bad,” I insisted, but I’d seen the small down tick in the price of Aegle stock since the incident.

“Goddammit Ethan, you may be the baby among us but you are not a fucking baby,” Jax yelled, hands slamming on the desk just inches from my face. “Your words caused this problem and you need to be the one to fix it, and your pretty face isn’t doing much to fix shit.”

“I would suggest an apology tour, but you can’t seem to help making things worse,” Brian offered with a sigh of exasperation and a shake of his head. “We need a specialist to fix whatever is wrong with you.”

I frowned, my black brows dipped into a V. “There isn’t a damn thing wrong with me.”

“You sure?” Jax gave me a concerned look and all the fire and piss evaporated just like that. Jax and I were closer in age and he’d always been able to see through my bullshit.

“Some things are just private and maybe I didn’t make my point in the best way, but I think I made it.”

Brian nodded excitedly. “You did and even though the masses are on your side, that behavior is affecting stock prices which is spooking the stock holders.”

And that was the long and short of it. People agreed with me and we all agreed that I was in the right even if my methods were a tad on the toxic side, but the fucking stock market said I had to apologize. Somehow. “All right fine, what do I need to do?” I listened while they all threw out ideas, everything from discounts on certain products, personal appearances by me at locations all around the country and weekly giveaways. But it was all shit. “None of this will work to appease stock holders.”

“Well what do you suggest,” Roc asked, “or are you just here to tell us why our ideas won’t work?”

I glared at Roc but I didn’t say a damn thing because I appreciated their efforts to help me get out of a situation I created, but Roc had always acted more like a father than a brother and that made things hard between us sometimes. “Where is Uncle Noah?”

“With Melanie on a boat in the Mediterranean.” Jax grinned and stood straight, looking down at me with a look in his eyes. “I have the perfect solution. Remember Blitz Adams?”

Hell yeah I remembered him. Brady “Blitz” Adams had been a first round draft pick, Super Bowl winning quarterback with a gorgeous movie star wife and adorable triplets. One day he couldn’t toss a ball to save his life and it looked like the end of his career. “What did you do for him?”

Jax grinned, black hair slicked back so he looked every inch the successful sports agent he’d become when his own NFL career ended years ago. “I hired a fixer and she is the absolute fucking best. She worked with Blitz for four months and he’s won three of the last four Super Bowls.”

I barked out a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “I don’t need that kind of help Jax, I can get laid all on my own.”

Brian frowned. “Do you have her number?”

“She chooses her clients and only accepts them by referral. She can help you Ethan, if you don’t fuck it up.”

“What exactly is a fixer?” If she wasn’t going to fuck me into submission I failed to see how she could do what three months of bad publicity and falling stock prices couldn’t.

“You don’t need to worry about her methods little brother. Just let her do her thing.” Jax looked around the room, getting agreement from everyone but me. “I’ll track her down and get back with you all soon.”

I watched everyone file out of my office until it was quietly empty. A fixer. I needed a goddamn fixer.

Just about as much as I needed another hole in my head.