Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (91 page)

“About what?” Nicole asked, trying to
shield her face with her phone as she walked.
 
The half dozen paparazzi followed her
down the street, while others gawked at them.

“You didn’t see the article in The Rag?”

“No,” Nicole said.
 
“Tell me what was in it.”

“Oh my god, honey.
 
I’m so sorry.”

“Was it about Red using me for
publicity?”

“Yeah.
 
It’s long and detailed and it seems to
be from an inside source, someone who knows him really well.
 
Whoever it is must not like him very
much.”

“I’m being followed by photographers as
we speak,” Nicole said, trying to walk faster.
 
She was close to the building now.

“Come back to the apartment right
now.
 
I’ll meet you there and we can
figure out what’s next,” Danielle told her.

Nicole sighed.
 
“I need to take care of this
myself.
 
But thanks for being there
for me,” she said.

“Of course,” her friend said.

When Nicole finally made it back to the
building, she ducked quickly inside the revolving doors and watched as the
paparazzi continued to mill about outside, smoking and talking.
 

 
She went to the special elevators reserved for Red, but now also
reserved for her.
 
The operator
smiled at her as she got in.
 
“Good
afternoon, ma’am.”

“Hi,” she said.

He smiled and nodded as if nothing at all
were wrong.
 
Nicole supposed that in
his world, nothing much was wrong.

She got out and strode to the office,
opening the door without bothering to knock.
 
Red was on the phone, standing beside
his desk.

“Make sure you stay on it,” he was
saying—nearly shouting into the phone.
 
“And don’t stop until you have an answer
for me.”
 
And then he saw Nicole and
his eyes widened.
 
“George, I’ve got
to go.”
 
He hung up the phone.

“Tell me the truth, right now,” she said.

“About the story in the tabloids?” he
asked.

“All of it.”

 
“It’s nothing but lies.”

“Is it really nothing but lies?
 
Don’t say something you’ll regret,” she
warned him.

He came towards her to wrap his arms
around her, and how badly she wanted his comfort right now.
 
But instead she shook her head and
stepped back.
 

“You can’t believe what we have is just
some stunt for publicity,” he said.
 
His face was a mask of worry.

“I need the truth from you,” Nicole
said.
 
“If you lie to me now, I
promise you’ll never see me again.”

Red searched her eyes with his own.
 
She tried to understand why he would do
all of this, why would he go to such lengths to fool her?
 
Just for an image makeover?

He turned and walked back to his desk,
sat down.
 
“There was a plan, a few
months back, for me to begin a relationship with a so-called “ordinary
girl.”
 
There were some discussions
about how the whole scheme would work, but it never took off.”

Nicole produced the emails and threw the
papers on his desk.
 
He picked them
up and made a face as he read them silently.
 
“God, I sound like such an asshole,” he
said, finally, putting a hand up to his face.
 

“And now you’ve made me look like an
asshole.”

“No, Nicole.”

“I was just followed by five or six
photographers outside.
 
Everyone
knows.
 
The story is all over the
place,” she told him.
 

“It’s a coincidence, I swear.”
 
He stood up again.
 
“Look at the dates on these
conversations.
 
It’s from last year.
We discussed it, we batted some ideas around, but it never went anywhere.
 
When I met you, I never intended for any
of this to happen, I had no agenda whatsoever.”

“What a lucky coincidence that I’m just a
regular girl from upstate New York, and you just happen to be in love with me
now.”

Red shook his head.
 
“If that’s all this was, why would I
even bother sitting here trying to convince you otherwise?
 
The story’s blown.
 
Everyone thinks this was just a big
publicity stunt, so there’s no reason for me to keep you around anymore.”

“Why not?
 
Seems like you got exactly what you
wanted, Red.
 
Attention for
yourself, a new angle, something different and exciting to tantalize the
media.”

Red’s expression was devastated.
 
“I swear to you, my love for you and my
proposal to you had nothing to do with that ridiculous idea.
 
I’d actually forgotten all about it
until this story broke.”

“I don’t know how I can believe you,” she
said.

Red sprang from his desk and grabbed her
in his arms, and even though she resisted, he pulled her in close.
 
She could smell his scent, his cologne
and aftershave.
 
He leaned towards
her as he held her.
 
“Everyone’s
going to say this is a stunt.
 
But
it’s not.
 
You and I know it’s not.”

“I can’t believe you were planning to
date someone just for publicity, Red.”

“I was a fool.
 
But then I met you,” he whispered.
 

“Now we’re both fools.”

“But we’re two fools in love,” he said to
her smiling.
 
And then he kissed
her.
 

Somehow, Nicole knew he was telling her
the truth.
 
As crazy as the whole
thing was, as ridiculous and unbelievable as it might be that Red Jameson loved
her—Nicole knew that he did.

 
They sat down together on the couch in his office.
 
Red took off her heels and rubbed her
feet.
 
“I guess this will make
telling your parents we’re still planning on getting married even more complicated,”
Red laughed.

Nicole put her face in her hands.
 
“Oh my god.
 
Please, don’t remind me.”

“If we can get through this, marriage is
going to be a piece of cake,” he said.

“Don’t joke at a time like this.”
 
But she smiled and curled into him, like
a kitten on his lap.
 
Red stroked
her hair and told her he loved her.

They sat like that for a few minutes,
Nicole marveling that she was somehow able to trust him after seeing those
emails.

Suddenly, a knock on the door.
 
Red stood up.
 
“Come in.”

Two men walked through the door.
 
One of them was a total stranger—a
big man with a beard who looked about as friendly as Tony Soprano.
 
The other man practically knocked the
breath out of her.

Anderson.
 
He was standing there with a nervous
smile playing across his face, trying and failing to appear confident.
 
Nicole stood up.
 
“That’s him,” she said.
 
“That’s the guy who gave me those
emails.”

“I know,” Red told her.
 
He turned to the Tony Soprano look
alike.
 
“Thanks for this,
George.
 
Send me a bill for your
time.”

George nodded briskly.
 
“Absolutely, Mister Jameson.”
 
And then he left the room.

“Now it’s just the three of us,” Red
said, as if he were hosting an intimate dinner party and was happy to be rid of
the noisier guests.
 

“You didn’t have to have your goon bring
me in.
 
If you’d asked nicely, I’d
have come in willingly,” Anderson said.

“Want a drink?” Red asked, strolling to
the bar.

“No thank you.
 
I’d rather you cut to the chase.”

Nicole watched Anderson and noticed he
was actually sweating, and a little vein was pulsing in his throat.
 
He was petrified right now, she
realized, and felt a surge of pity for the man.

“The thing is,” Red said, “I never like
to get in the way of anybody’s livelihood.
 
You’re a tabloid journalist and I respect your right to earn a living.”

“Thank you,” Anderson replied.
 

“On the other hand, I really can’t allow
you to hurt the woman I love.”
 
He
poured some vodka into a glass and came back to within a few feet of where
Anderson stood.
 
Physically, Red was
imposing, and Anderson seemed to wither in front of him.

“I’m not trying to hurt anyone.
 
I had information I thought she might
like to know, and I told her.
 
I’m
sorry if it inconvenienced you.”

Red handed the drink he’d made to
Anderson.
 
“Take this, I think
you’re going to need it.”

“Really, I don’t want it—“

“Trust me.”
 
Red pushed the drink into the older
man’s hands.
 
Finally, Anderson took
the drink as the vodka inside sloshed over onto his shoes.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Anderson
said, “and I really don’t like someone trying to intimidate me.
 
You might be able to do that with your
employees and hangers on, but I’m not beholden to you.”
 

“Have a drink,” Red said.
 
“Seriously.
 
I promise I didn’t poison you.”

Anderson’s hand shook.
 
Finally, he had a sip, grimacing.
 
“There.
 
Can I leave now?”

“You said you’re not beholden to me,” Red
began, putting his hands behind his back like a professor starting a class
lecture.
 
“But what if you’re wrong
about that?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“Are you absolutely certain of that?”

“I’ve had just about enough of your
riddles, Mister Jameson.”

“It’s not a riddle.”
 
Red crossed to his desk and sat casually
on the edge of it.
 
“You know, I
never particularly cared about the stories you people ran.
 
You said all kinds of things—some
true, some lies—but none of it mattered to me.”
 
Red looked at Nicole.
 
“But then I met someone who changed my
life.”

Anderson couldn’t contain a mocking
snort.

Red glowered at the man.
 
“It might seem funny to you, but I take
my relationship with my fiancé very, very seriously.
 
Today, for the first time, I stopped
finding your stories cute and funny.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Anderson said, not
sounding particularly sorry.

“When something bothers me, I usually
take action,” Red continued, as if the other man hadn’t spoken.
 
“So I did the easiest thing.
 
I bought your magazine.”

Anderson stared at him, stunned.
 
“You did no such thing.”

“I said you’d need that drink.”

The older man gulped it down swiftly, his
whole body trembling.
 
“Please tell
me you’re joking.”

“No.”
 
Red shook his head.
 
“And I think you know I have the money
to do it.
 
In fact, your company has
been losing money the last three quarters, so I think I got a bargain.
 
But I would have made the deal anyway.”

“I suppose this is your elaborate way of
telling me I’m fired?”

“Actually, no.”
 
Red shook his head.
 
“You were only doing your job, which was
to write stories that the public wants to read.
 
I don’t mind a man earning a living,
like I said.”

“Then what?
 
Why am I here?”

“Two things,” Red told him.
 
“Firstly, I don’t appreciate that you
contacted Nicole and tried to turn her against me.
 
What was the point?”

Anderson shrugged.
 
“Relationship building, we call it.
 
I start off giving information, proving
that I can be a resource to the person in question.
 
Eventually, the
target—errr—person I’m building a relationship with, will start to
speak to me like I’m a friend.
 
And
soon I’m just listening to the story and they’re telling me everything they
know.”