CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Zoe

“You bastard.”

Mark’s face filled the entirety of my television screen. He was talking to the press, his nose covered in bandages, giving his fictitious accounting of the events of last night. He made it seem like he had been attacked out of the blue, that he had just been saying hello to a fellow writer and that Chad was some mentally unstable boyfriend. He was playing for the cameras, and doing such a good job of it that it made me sick.

“Damn it,” I sighed, wiping another tear from my cheek.

Ever since Chad had walked out, I had been trying to stop the waterworks. It took every bit of willpower, and then some, to not break down. I had turned on the TV, and when I saw Mark’s face on TMZ, I concentrated my anger towards him. It was the best thing I could do, because just thinking about how Chad had left, about how I had let him go again made me hate myself more than I hated Mark.

I regretted everything then.

I regretted ever having started up an affair with Mark, a married man who was more in love with himself than anyone else.

I regretted letting that bastard into my life, into my bed, between my legs.

I regretted talking myself into believing that Graham’s advice was the right thing to do. Push Chad away. Keep your head down. Lay low for a while.

I regretted it all.

And I blamed it on Mark. With every ounce of being inside me. I detested the smug bastard. I was glad Chad had slammed his face into that table. My final regret was that I had not had the guts to do so myself.

My cellphone rang. I sniffed and wiped another stray tear away, bracing myself when I saw Graham’s name on the screen. I tried to compose myself as much as possible, then answered, knowing he would probably see through my guise anyway.

“Are you near a TV?” Graham asked as soon as I answered.

“I’m watching him now,” I replied. “None of what he’s saying is true. He’s downplaying how much of an asshole he was.”

“Of course, he is,” Graham said. “He’s a lawyer, and he’s suing your boyfriend. Of course, he’s going to play dirty.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I choked.

There was silence on the other line.

“Graham?”

“You know, Zoe, I’ll always have your back, right?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“I met with the publisher this morning and made sure nothing changes in the way we treat you,” Graham said. “You’re just as valuable as Mark. Even more.”

“Thank you, Graham,” I replied. “I took your advice. I told Chad we couldn’t pursue anything. He’s leaving town.”

“Staying out of the spotlight is key, Zoe,” Graham said. “You don’t want your name tarnished in any way.”

“Sure,” I replied, focusing my emotions on the anger I felt for the bastard on TV.

“But you know, there’s a lot one can do even when they’re not in the spotlight.”

I frowned, looking away from the screen. “What do you mean?”

Graham chuckled. “You’re a smart girl,” he said. “Watch the TV. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

He hung up, and I stared at the phone for a few seconds before setting it on the couch beside me. What the hell did he mean? I thought he didn’t want me to get involved? And how the hell was I supposed to stay away from all this, but not at the same time? Nothing he said made any sense.

I turned back to the TV and turned up the volume. Mark had stepped aside, letting his wife talk to the cameras. I couldn’t believe he would stoop this low and bring his wife into it, but looking at her, those beautiful eyes, that innocent face, I realized that it was probably one of the best strategies he could use. The public was going to fall in love with her, and that would be it for Chad. The wife who demanded justice for her battered husband. The final nail in Chad Walters’ coffin.

My hands suddenly stopped shaking, and Graham’s words swirled in my head.

Of course.

How could I have been so stupid?

The solution to all our problems was on the TV screen, literally staring me in the face.

* * *

“What the fuck do you want?”

I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth and held my anger back. Hearing Mark’s voice over the phone only added to the anger I was feeling, and I had to control my temper if I wanted to do this right.

“I saw your little press performance,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

“Like I give a crap,” Mark shot back. “Your boyfriend’s going to file for bankruptcy by the time I’m through with him. Body by Chad will be Body by Mark. Just you wait and see.”

I actually smiled, picturing Mark standing next to Chad with their shirts off. There was no comparison.

“I’m going to need you to drop those charges, Mark,” I said. “By the end of the day.”

Mark laughed in my ear. “That’s fucking hilarious,” he said. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” I replied. “Deadly serious. Serious as a heart attack, in fact.”

“And why the hell would I do that?” he asked. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. Because you have a thing for the guy and he won’t fuck you while he’s being sued by your ex?”

“Are you my ex, Mark?” I asked.

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Of course I’m your ex, you dumb fucking cunt. You think I’m going to start fucking you again now and let this prick off the hook? Forget it. You were replaced ten minutes after I wiped the stink of your pussy off my dick the last time.”

“What happened to the forgiving man you were speaking of the other night?”

“That was before your Neanderthal fuck buddy slammed my face in a table and broke my nose.”

“Your nose? Or your pride?”

Mark took in a deep breath. I could almost hear his blood boiling. “Fuck you, Zoe, and don’t you ever fucking call me again?”

He was about to hang up when I said, “Then maybe I should talk to your wife.”

Silence. I got you now, you son of a bitch.

“What was her name? Deborah? Barbara? I can’t remember, I confuse her with all the other women you’ve cheated on her with.”

“Watch it, Zoe, or I’ll come after you, too,” Mark hissed, but I could tell I’d struck a nerve. You want to beat a cocksucker like Mark at his own game, hit him in the wallet. His wife would get half of everything if she divorced him. We both knew it.

“I’m not afraid of you, Mark,” I said. “If you don’t want your wife to find out about me, about us, you will drop this stupid law suit and crawl back into your fucking cave.”

Mark laughed, but it wasn’t genuine. “You have no proof. It would be your word against mine. And trust me, she’ll believe me. I can tell her the sky is red and she wouldn’t argue.”

“I think you’re underestimating her,” I replied. “But I have a feeling your wife won’t care that much about our affair because she’ll be having a field day in your bank account.”

A longer silence. I had him in the palm of my hands.

“I can always tell her about the nights we spent together, the bathroom fucks, the time at the park?” I continued. “I wonder what she’d say to that.”

“You can’t prove anything, you dirty bitch!”

I kept pushing. “Your wife seems like a sweet woman. Certainly, too good for a piece of shit like you. Maybe she just needs a little nudge in the right direction.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled. “You have a reputation to protect, too.”

“I could give two shits about my reputation,” I said, feeling totally in control with him for the first time. “And I do have proof.”

“What proof…”

“Oh, let’s see… that tiny mole right above the thing you call a cock? I wonder how you’re going to explain how I know about that. Or the birth mark just under your right ass cheek. Or the pictures of you and me in Vegas, time stamped for when you were supposed to be in Spain? Oh, and did I mention that I’ve been recording this call? Imagine how your wife will react when she hears you bragging about wiping the stink of my pussy off your cock and moving on to my replacement.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Mark almost yelled, miraculously keeping his voice down even though I knew I had him by the balls.

“No, you’re not,” I said. “But you are going to drop the charges, or so help me God, little Miss Sunshine is going to get a visit from me. She’ll have more than enough dirt to file for a divorce and take half of everything you’ve got.”

Silence.

“Drop the charges, Mark. Or I’ll come for you. And I’ll burn down your entire fucking life.”

I didn’t wait for an answer.

I didn’t have to.

Zoe Maxwell was in control.