I knew I didn't have the strength to fight him off, and the only weapon I had was the cell phone in my hand. Then inspiration struck. I pressed last call button, connecting me to whoever had called me last and thrust the phone in his face so he could see I was on the line with someone. I didn't care who it was—it could be bill collector or a kid selling cruise packages—I just needed Jay to think it was someone important.
Jay put his face close to mine as his hand slid up my shirt, grabbing my left breast. With his foul breath in my face, he said, "We can do it the easy way at my place, or the hard way here. Either way, you're taking my dick. The choice is yours."
"Actually, the choice is yours," I said, thrusting the palm of my hand upward in an effort to punch him in the nose, and then shoving my phone in front of his eyes so he could see I was on a call. "My boyfriend, Ethan, has been recording this entire conversation. He knows I'm here at the R.E.B. Corporate Studio on Ninth Street, and that I'm here alone with you."
"So what? He ain't here to save you, and by the time he gets here, I'll be done."
"No, but he's still recording every word, and you can't reach him before he gives it to the media. Do you want tomorrow’s headlines to be that you paid me double because the shoot went so well? Or should I have Ethan release this recording to the media, letting all the world know that Jay Wendt, director of marketing for R.E.B., was trying to pressure a model into giving him sexual favors and then threatening to rape her if she didn't cooperate? I get press exposure either way, so I'm good with whatever choice you make."
"You fucking bitch," he reached for the phone, but I was light and quick and dodged him easily.
Holding the phone up to my ear, I continued the bluff and said, "Go ahead, Ethan. Sell the recording to the news."
"No, stop. I believe this was all just a misunderstanding. I was kidding before. It was a joke in poor taste, and I apologize. I'm tired, too. I'm just going home. I'll have a cab take you home. You can expect to find a bonus check waiting for you at my office first thing Monday morning."
"That's very generous of you, but I don't want anything I haven't earned with hard work. Keep your bonus." I smiled. He held open the door for me, and I walked through it.
To my surprise, Ethan pulled up in front of me just a few moments later on his bike.
"Is everything all right?" he asked, looking hard at Jay.
"Yeah, everything is fine," I said, locking gazes with Jay, who quickly cast his eyes to the ground.
"The shoot went great; better than expected. I'll tell everyone you're a truly professional model," Jay mumbled. "Now excuse me, I have to go."
He got in his car and drove away at top speeds, spitting gravel as he went.
"Are you okay?" Ethan looked at me, and I nodded.
"I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. I'll take a cab home."
"Get on; I'll take you."
"No thanks." I started to walk away from him, but Ethan spun around on the bike, cutting off my retreat.
With pleading eyes, he said, "I've really missed you. Please, have dinner with me tonight. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
"No more secrets?" My heart was leaping, but I put on an air of suspicion.
"You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the whole truth," he vowed, pleading with his eyes. "T
he lawsuit, my time in college, the years I was addicted to speed, how I developed my company. Nothing is off limits."
"Just dinner and talking; nothing more," I stipulated, even though my body was already aroused just being near him.
"Only if you want more."
I thought for a moment, enjoying the way my hesitation was making him squirm. Then, without saying a word, I smiled at him at climbed onto the back of his bike. It felt good to feel my arms wrapped around his strong chest with the wind blowing through my hair as we raced through the city streets. This was where I belonged. This was where I was meant to be.
Best of all, it felt good knowing that with just one call he was there for me in an instant, willing to do anything I asked just to be mine. We were riding into a new and more meaningful future together, and in that moment, my life was perfect. Too bad perfection doesn't last.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Ethan
"You can't seriously be telling me this asshole has a real fucking case," I shouted angrily.
"I'm saying Judge Farrell ruled that there are sufficient grounds to move forward; so yes, he has a real case."
"This is complete bullshit. This junkie could potentially win half my fucking company that I've worked a lifetime to build, just because we were stoned together one night and he said Speed Motorcycles, and I eventually used that name for entirely different reasons?"