Hey everybody!! Thanks for all the nice comments and I hope your still enjoying the story. This part I sort of titled "When Shit Hits the Fan." :)
We're almost halfway through now, so hang tight!!! Thanks again!
I picked up the phone and connected to Richard outside, “Yes sir?”
I sighed heavily, resting my forehead in my hand, “Richard…schedule me something tomorrow morning with...Alexander Rutovsky.”
“What?” Richard sort of gasped. I groaned, placing my head on the desk. Exactly… what was I doing? Was Tate worth being within feet of that tennis playing pimp? I needed help. I had no idea what I was doing.
“Sir?” my assistant asked urgently. Sighing against the polished wood, I saw my breath fog around me.
“Get in here Richard.”
“Uh, yes sir,” he audibly gulped and set down the receiver with a click.
The door to my office squeaked open and I sat up straight, placing my own phone on the hook, “sit.”
“Am I in trouble? I swear I didn’t jam the copier,” his face was that of a guilty child as he sat in the tufted leather chair across from me.
Rolling my eyes, “this isn’t about the damned copier. I need some…well I need…help.”
“Help sir?” Richard looked from side to side carefully as if he was being pranked.
“Yes help, is that so hard to believe or something?”
“Well, um no, but you’ve never…” Richard sat back and closed his mouth.
“You have a girlfriend right?” I leaned forward and he sat back tightly against the chair.
“Yes sir,” he replied with wide eyes.
“Drop the sir bullshit. It’s Oliver and I’m not your boss right now. Got it?” I raised a brow and he nodded once in disbelief. “Let’s say you did something really…bad and wanted her forgiveness, but she left you. What would you do to get her back?”
“What did ‘I’ do exactly? That would be an important factor, right?” He eyed me carefully, waiting for me to flip a switch.
“Is it really that important?” I clipped.
“Uh yes si…I mean Oliver, it is.”
I looked him up and down. His brush cut, blonde hair was thinning a little, and his blue eyes were tired, but I could see where a woman would be attracted to him. Like I said he was a big guy, around six one, with a build like a good ole country boy, but in slacks instead of Levi’s. He looked trustworthy, oozed of it even, and at this point I was desperate.
“You took her virginity and wouldn’t kiss her,” I blurted.
“Whoa,” both his blonde brows rose with exclamation. “You did that?”
“This is a hypothetical scenario where you did it…” I narrowed my eyes, but inside his reaction made the guilt grow like a virus.
“Hypothetically if I did that, I’d be lucky if Lorna if ever spoke to me again. I mean, have you talked to him since?” Richard crossed his leg and threw an arm over the rest to his side.
What the fuck? Did my hypothetical declaration all of the sudden make us casual? And how did he know I was gay? I was not the stereotype and country boy here probably knew as much about homosexuals as I did about growing corn.
“Him?” I inquired.
Richard sighed, “I just know okay? Can we get back to this guy? I’m sorry Oliver, but I’d like to go home sometime tonight.”
“Whatever. It’s alright Richard it’s just been a long week, and…never mind. No, I haven’t talked to him. He left the next morning without a trace. Well, until now that is,” I held up the badge.
He leaned forward and pulled it from my hands, flipping it over. He shrugged, “he’s alright for a man I guess. Wait, Quantis? Is that why you wanted to…”
“Yes. How do I do this Richard? I don’t want anything to do with Rutovsky, but I can’t exactly march into Quantis and make a scene over an assistant.”
“Don’t you know where he lives? Just go over there and apologize. Bring some flowers or a card or something,” he gestured with his hands.
“No I don’t. Before today, I didn’t even know his last name. I’ve been trying to find him, but it was kind of like finding a needle in a hay stack.”
“Hold up. Let me get this straight. You took home a guy that you only knew his first name. You then took his virginity and wouldn’t kiss him, and then he felt like shit and left while you were sleeping?” He sat back, with a stunned expression.
“Yes,” I murmured and looked down at the business cards.
“Damn. That’s really bad Oliver. Like really, really…”
“I know how bad it is thank you very much,” I cut him off.
“Well then you had better make like John Cusack and break out the boom box, because flowers and hallmark aren’t gonna fix this,” he sighed.
“Really? That’s your straight boy revelation, a boom box?” I snorted. Yeah, this was fucking hopeless.
“Then if you’re not going to go declaring your undying love for the guy, how about you start with returning his badge?” Richard shrugged.
The elevator rode up to the top floor of the Quantis building. My palms were sweaty from fisting them and opening them a thousand times. Richard was at my side, his tablet in hand, and sparing me a pitiful glance every few seconds. I sucked in a breath as the second to last floor came upon us, straightening my black tie, against my pin stripe button up. I looked good. I had made sure of it. A custom silk lined suit from Italy, platinum cuff links engraved with my initials, and dress shoes shined to blaze. In short, I looked dress to kill…or win over in this case.
Our plan was actually a meeting with a duel purpose. Richard had scheduled a last minute appointment with Rutovsky through his assistant this morning and I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I told him the reason I was here. I wanted to watch his perfectly plucked, blonde brows narrow in anger when I told him where he could point his dick from now on….maybe towards my mother, since the two seemed to be so buddy buddy. Then I would find Tate and try and sort all this out before my afternoon warehouse meeting. Everything was going to be fine.
Richard seemed as nervous as I was, but straightened up and took a deep breath before the doors dinged open. The Quantis executive offices were buzzing. Three secretaries sat behind a long back lit desk that looked more like a high end bar than a place to put their computers. The phones were ringing off the hook, but the females ahead of us simply hit a button, “Thank you for calling Quantis, how may I direct your call?”
Over and over, these girls connected calls like robots, never looking up as we wandered past into the lavish pit of soulless cubicle employees. The top floor was open, with lots of windows showcasing the grey skies over the city today. Four private enclosed offices sat to the back of the pit, the last and largest being Rutovsky’s.
A nymph like woman with a tight brown bun and smart silver glasses approached us. It was obvious that her pencil skirt limited her walk and that the ‘I’m a bitch’ stilettos were killing her feet, but she masked her pain and stopped in front of me.
“Mr. Caldwell?” she looked me over quickly, returning to my eyes with a blank face.
“Yes, I’m here to see…” I started.
“Right this way,” the little cat cut me off and turned on her heel, striding towards the back offices.
“Friendly,” I murmured to Richard, who snorted and followed me.
She opened the door to the large corner office and gestured us inside, “Mr. Rutovsky’s assistant will be with you shortly. Mr. Rutovsky apologizes for the delay and insists that you make yourselves at home. Have a nice day gentlemen,” she rushed and shut the door behind us.
I looked around with a raised brow. This is how he decked out a top floor office? It was bare, Spartan in its decorative taste. Two walls that met into a corner were nothing but glass, overlooking the city and the heart of downtown. The other two walls were done in a masculine, black leather finish. No pictures, no artwork, nothing more than a modern steel desk and three black leather chairs. It felt like a corporate interrogation room and I eyed Richard, seeing his similar reaction.
“Maybe he’s cutting corners?” Richard offered, before shuffling to a chair and easing into it.
“Yeah or maybe he’s trying to sweat out his clients,” I grunted, sitting in the chair next to him. “You brought the badge right?” I asked.
“Yep,” he smiled and patted his messenger bag, pulling out his tablet and booting it up.
A small sweep of air made me turn around to the opening door, “I am so sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting. Mr. Rutovsky is still in his meeting and might be a little while longer. Mr. Caldwell is there anything I can get you to drink?”
Tate’s hands were full of coffee and a busily chirping cell phone. He finally glanced up in his hurry and froze. His mouth opened and his eyes went wide with shock, “I…I…uh…”
I stood up slowly, “Tate?” He was Rutovsky’s assistant? Oh hell no. No fucking way!
“You’re Mr. Caldwell?” He squeaked and almost dropped the coffee carrier. “What are you even doing here?” He looked to Richard with panic and looked back to me.
“I have an appointment with Alexander,” I replied softly, looking away. He looked divine and my mouth was going dry. A well tailored navy blue suit with skinny legged slacks fit him like a glove and I bit my lip to keep from groaning.
“He said he had a personal arrangement this morning, but… Oh my God. You’re…with him?” I looked up into Tate’s pained eyes.
Richard snorted, “I think you’re mistaken Tate…?”
“Tate Raymee. I’m Da… I mean Mr. Rutovsky’s executive assistant,” Tate looked Richard up and down.
“Well Tate, if I may?” Richard paused and I waved him on, I couldn’t even speak. “Mr. Caldwell is here for a business related meeting. Mr. Rutovsky might have said ‘personal’, but he meant that he has known Mr. Caldwell for a long time, making them business colleagues, and nothing more than professional.”
“Oh,” Tate nodded and rounded the desk, setting the coffees down. “Well if I may, why do I get the feeling you know a lot more than a personal assistant should?” The dark haired creature looked up with narrowed eyes at me, but he spoke to Richard.
“Don’t all of us assistants know more than we should?” Richard chuckled. Where was this confidence suddenly coming from? Richard, the big bastard was completely in his element, and I was kind of dumbfounded.
“How much do you know about Mr. Caldwell exactly?” Tate crossed his arms and his lips tightened into a line. What was that supposed to mean? Did he think that I had…with Richard? My nerves got the best of me and I busted out laughing. Richard chuckled softly and blushed. He must think I fuck everything with a dick.
“I think what my boss means is,” Richard smiled with reddened cheeks, “is that I’m…uh straight.”
“Oh God,” Tate groaned and covered his face. “This is so messed up. I wasn’t ever supposed to see you again and now you come in here looking like that and with him,” a gestured to Richard. “I need to leave. Yeah, I need to get the hell out of here.” He tried three times to pick up his phone with shaking hands.
“Tate, please just listen to me,” I stood up.
“No, we aren’t doing this. Not here, not in front of this guy, and not ever. My boss is about to walk in here and I am not losing my job and becoming a freaking mess, because you want to make me feel guilty or something for leaving. You should feel guilty, not me,” he swallowed and sucked in a breath as the door opened.
“Ah, Oliver, it’s so good to see you,” Alexander waltzed in. His green eyes cut to Tate and a small grin played over his lips. “Tate, I need a drink. You know how I like it,” he winked and Tate looked down.
“Yes, sir,” he strode out of the room without another word, letting the door close softly behind him. What the fuck was that about? You know how I like it…Ugh.
Alexander came over to me with open arms, “it has been such a long time,” he purred and wrapped his long arms around me. A hand strayed down my back and brushed over my ass.
“Not long enough,” I whispered in his ear and pulled out of his arms.
He frowned playfully, but shrugged and went to sit behind his desk, “I see you brought a playmate for Tate?” He chuckled and unbuttoned his grey suit jacket.
“This is my assistant Richard,” I gestured next to me.
“Pleasure,” Richard smiled.
“Hmm, right,” Alexander dismissed my assistant like he was dirt. “So, I assume this little meeting has to do with the club. Am I right?”
“My club?” I crossed my leg and sat back. What?
“Well yes, you’re angry about the inspection aren’t you? That’s why you’re here, to bitch me out and tell me I’m worthless? I assure you it’s nothing personal. As you know, I thought I’d made clear my intentions towards you,” he looked over to Richard with irritation. “Did you get the tickets I sent? I would have thought you’d have at least called me back.”
“Don’t change the subject Rutovsky. What aboutthe club?” I fisted my hands.
“No need to be angry Oliver,” he pouted. “I’ve been trying to buy that block of downtown for years. I’ve already been sitting around six years on blueprints for over a hundred high end condos. That’s a lot of waiting Oliver, and now that you failed your quarterly inspection this morning, it would seem that the property has only forty eight hours before closure. Sharks will be sharks Olly boy.”
“Excuse me? What the fuck are you playing at Rutovsky?” I stood and put my hands on his desk, leaning in close. “That’s impossible. I don’t have an inspection by the health department scheduled for another three weeks and even if they did give me a violation, forty eights hours? Where did you pull that from, your ass? There are a series of procedures that would have to take place before closure was even put up as a possibility. So tell me Alexander…just what the fuck did you do?”
“I did what was necessary to ensure that block became mine. You told me I couldn’t have the property and you outbid me, you told me I couldn’t have you and you blow me off, and you told me to step up my ‘pussy ass game’,” he made quotations with his fingers. “So I did.” He shrugged.
“So, Oliver…would you like to play…my game?” he leaned in so our faces were inches from each other.
“How did you do it Alex, huh? Or who did you do?” I growled, my fingers itching to punch him in his smug little mouth.
“That’s not part of the game Olly. Must he be in here?” Alexander flicked his eyes to Richard with distaste.
I grabbed his chin, biting my fingers into his skin, “you listen to me you little punk ass bitch. I will see your inspection and raise you the closure of your company. How about we find out how daddy’s little cocksucker went from country club washout to fortune five hundred in under a year, shall we? And I will find out Alexander, trust me. Your shit stinks and everyone is about to find out.”
Rutovsky pulled back, just as Tate entered the room with a foaming latte. He looked between his boss and I, tears almost in his eyes.
“Tate, can you make sure our dinner reservations are on for eight please?” Alexander smiled like the devil and extended an arm for his coffee, acting as though nothing had just transpired.
“Yes, sir…I already checked and everything is set,” Tate murmured, putting the coffee in his boss’s waiting hand. Rutovsky slowly brushed his free hand over Tate’s arm and narrowed his eyes, “thank you.” He purred.
Oh fuck that! This was his ‘not my boyfriend’ boyfriend? That much was obvious as Tate blushed and put his hands together behind his back with a smile, “it was nothing sir.”
Was this all a scam? Had Tate been using me to give Alexander information? Had he actually slept in my bed that night or did he wait until I was asleep to creep around my house, looking for what he needed? My scowl fell and my brows furrowed in pain. I didn’t use him…he used me. I was furious. My fists shook at my sides and my voice was strained.
“This whole week I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. This entire time I thought I was the one to blame…that I had done something to hurt you. But it was you. You helped him get to me and well played by the way Rutovsky, well played indeed,” I turned to Alexander who looked at me with utter confusion.
Tate went wide eyed and took a step around the desk towards me, “Oliver no, I never…”
“No, you stay right the fuck where you are. I don’t want you near me. I don’t want to smell that god damned cologne and I don’t want to hear your voice. Your boss here really knew what he was doing sending you into my club, gorgeous little thing like you, with eyes that burn a fucker’s soul. He knew there was no way I could resist. What he didn’t count on was that I would actually want more than your fake virginal ass. But now, you can go to hell you little executive whore. I hope your ‘not my boyfriend' here and you have a wonderful life together,” I wrenched Richard’s bag out of his hands, fished the badge from it, and threw it at Tate.
“What the hell are you talking about Oliver? Jesus Christ!” Rutovsky pushed his chair back and stood with a scowl.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about you sick fuck. Sending Tate to me like bait, having him fake his virgin-hood, and letting me fuck him so he could go through my shit while I slept,” I seethed. “Did you get everything you needed Tate? Huh!” I shouted and Tate burst into tears.
“You let him…” Alexander looked at Tate with pure hatred. “You know him! You let him fuck you! Are you kidding me? Do you know how long I…” Rutovsky threw his coffee across the room, the steaming liquid sloshing across the glass window.
“You’re fired,” Rutovsky hissed. “Get out.”
“What? I didn’t do anything! Oh my God,” Tate screeched.
Richard at this point was flat against the wall on the other side of the room, his eyes wide with fear. Tate was sobbing uncontrollably and Alex had his palms flat on the desk, breathing like fire would erupt from his mouth at any second.
He tilted his head at Tate, “I said get…OUT!”
“Oh please David, I didn’t do anything wrong!” Tate countered with tears running down his face.
I stopped and stared at the scene before me. Tate was so upset…not even an actor was that good. He really had no idea what I was talking about and so help me, neither did Rutovsky. But in my anger, I had done a hell of a lot of damage, and now I cringed at was resulting. And David, what was that all about? Why did he call him that?
“Turn in the keys to the company car at the front desk with your badge. As you don’t have a desk, there is nothing else to take with you. Get, out of my office, now!”
My head hurt with all the drama that was unfolding. Alex wanted to fuck Tate, Tate wanted Alex to love him, I wanted Tate to want me, and somewhere underneath all that, Tate wanted me too. Not to mention my club! Oh this fucker was going to pay. I needed an aspirin in the form of a fifth of bourbon.
“This is war Rutovsky,” I pointed a finger at him. “Tate, go with Richard to the car. Do not tell me no. Do not say another word,” I turned to him. Richard unglued himself from the wall and grabbed Tate by the shoulders softly, pulling him away from the two fuming wolves in the room.
Tate’s eyes locked with mine, something was there, but at this point I had no idea what it was. It’s okay, I mouthed to him, and he sniffled, but nodded.
When the two of them started down the hallway, I turned, holding the door open, “I want you to remember this feeling Alex, the anger. Because that is nothing compared to what you’ll feel when I’m done with you. Watch your back Rutovsky, because I’m coming for you,” with that, I let the door swoosh close behind me, and walked past the pit of stunned Quantis employees, and after my heart.