Dorsey gave me a hug before climbing into the back seat, and for the first time, I had some hope for him. I knew it was tough road ahead of him, and that chances were high he would relapse when he got out, but I hoped for the best for him.
"That was exhausting, but you did it." Gwyneth gave me a supportive hug when at last Dorsey was gone.
"Yeah, good job, buddy. What do you say we all go out tonight to celebrate the ending of your lawsuit and the start of a new future for Dorsey?" Vick said. "You can call up Kayla and we'll make it a foursome."
"Thanks, but Kayla has plans tonight. She's going to some special event for her new modeling client."
"Yes, I know," Gwyneth said, shooting Vick an annoyed look, as if he should have known better. Then she turned to me with a sympathetic look and said, "I'm surprised you’re okay with it."
"Of course, I'm okay with her having a modeling career. What kind of a misogynistic asshole do you think I am?"
"I know you're fine with women's equality, I just thought you put more importance on loyalty in business," Gwyneth said, and I suddenly felt ill at ease.
"What are you talking about?" Vick and I both said together, like a chorus.
"Don't you know?" Gwyneth blinked, but we both just shook our head's like ignorant sheep. She reached into her large bag and pulled out a stack of magazines. With an unhappy look, she tossed them onto the table in front of us and said, "Well, in that case, take a look at these."
Vick and I each picked up a magazine and started flipping through the pages. It was your standard fashion crap: articles on how to keep a man, advertisements for make-up and over-priced clothes. I didn't see what the big deal was, and then suddenly, I did.
There, on page 42 was a picture of Kayla sitting astride a R.E.B. motorcycle, with a caption that said, “When you want to feel real power between your legs, ride on this.” The sexual innuendo was obvious and the outfit they had her in was borderline pornographic, with her nipples barely concealed by the miracles of Photoshop. How could she do this; and for my worst competitor?
I felt betrayed as her boyfriend that she would allow herself to be made into such a sex object, and I felt betrayed as a businessman that my own girlfriend would advertise for my worst enemy.
Most of all, I felt betrayed as her intimate partner that she would keep something like this a secret all these weeks without ever saying a word. We had just committed to each other, but how much could that bond mean if she was harboring secrets like this from me?
I tore the advertisement out of the magazine and crumpled it into a wad with my fist, destroying it just like she had killed my trust.
"Where are you going?" Gwyneth called after me as I stormed from the conference room.
"Where do you think? I have to talk to Kayla."
"But they'll never let you in. The R.E.B. party at the Coast View Hotel is sure to have security to keep you out."
Without meaning to, Gwyneth had just let me know exactly where to find her.
"I don't plan on asking their permission," I stated, and I knew she could tell from look in my eyes that I meant it.
"Just be careful. I don't want you to get hurt," she cried out, but it was too late. I'd already been hurt by Kayla, and now I was intent on hurting her back.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kayla
"You look incredible, as always," the C.E.O. of Revving Engines Bikes Nathan Diehl greeted me with a smile. He looked handsome in a dark blue suit with a matching tie, and his blond hair was slicked back.
"Thank you, but I feel a bit under-dressed," I blushed. They had me wearing a sexy, black bathing suit, with high cut sides and a plunging neckline that went all way to my navel. It made me feel conspicuous in a room filled with people wearing suits and dresses. My blonde hair had been curled into sexy spirals and my makeup had been done heavily, with black eye-liner and red lips. I didn't feel anything like myself, and the whole situation had me feeling uncomfortable. To make matters worse, Jay Wendt, the director of marketing, suddenly approached.
"We'd like to have you standing over here by our newest bike, the Road Rage. Guys are sure to want to approach you, and when they do, our sales team will be able to intercede and talk them into buying one," Jay said, guiding me to the corner of the room where several bikes stood, looking shiny and new.
"And why am in a swimsuit instead of a dress?" I asked, wishing I could cover myself up.
"We've hired a photographer to take pictures of you with the guests. We thought having you in a swimsuit would make for a better shot. Guys will love it and it fits in better with the bad boy image we're giving the bike."
I wasn't wild about the direction the marketing campaign was taking, but I'd signed a contract and the money was good, so what could I do?
Silently, I took my place, smiling broadly in my swimsuit and stilettos as sweaty men in business suits lined up to get their picture with me and were then assaulted by salesmen eager to make a commission.
It was a miserable way to spend an evening, and I found myself wishing Ethan were there. At least his marketing parties had been fun and him and his entire staff had treated me with dignity. Here, I just felt like a piece of meat.