Dirty Laundry (Get Dirty 2)
“You backstabbing, dirty little bitch—” Elise says, starting to get up, but Donnie claps, getting our attention again.
“So, as Francesca was following you, looking for the dirt you were supposed to be finding, we discovered something rather interesting. It didn’t take long to figure out that you two are sleeping together. A bit salacious to fuck the talent, Elise, and definitely a bit of slumming on your part, Keith.”
“Fuck you, you fucking dirt-peddling slimeball,” I growl. “So what if two consenting adults are having sex? Is this what passes as shocking news these days?”
Donnie laughs, looking at me like I’m dense. “Well, it could be a good story. Trust me, as they say, sex sells. But more important is what it led us to discover. It seems that in addition to fucking a tabloid reporter, you seem to be doing it to buy her silence . . . about your twelve-year-old daughter.”
I can’t stop the growl that tears from the depths of my chest, and I hear Elise gasp next to me. I’d known walking into this tonight that this was probably what was coming, but hearing it straight from this asshole’s mouth is more than I can take. I’m going to tear his heart out and shove a crystal bowl of jellybeans in its place.
“Whatever you think you know, you’d best keep your fucking mouth shut about it,” I threaten, my lip curling.
Donnie steeples his fingers, regarding me coolly as he opens a file folder on his desk, spreading out picture after picture, along with detailed reports of our outings. “If I had a dollar for every person who’s threatened to kick my ass over what I find out, I’d be rich enough to get out of this gig and retire,” he says, pushing the photos toward me.
They’re sharp, hi-def, and show a variety of things. Sure, there are a few of me and Elise getting romantic . . . but what’s even more hurtful is me hugging Carsen. Of us at the restaurant. Of me with my little girl. There are others too . . . of Carsen by herself, or with Sarah when she’s getting picked up. “There are a couple of possibilities here, but what happens is totally up to you.”
“What do you want?” I snarl, only the thought of ending up in jail and Child Services taking Carsen away from me keeping me in my chair.
“Well, this can go one of two ways, and I’m being gracious enough to let you choose,” Donnie says greasily. “Option one, you will pay me a half-mil each year that you want this secret to stay quiet. My understanding is that Carsen’s twelve. So probably, you’ll want to wait until she’s at least eighteen. So let’s say $3.5million to make it easy?”
“You son of a bitch,” Elise rasps, but Donnie plunges on.
“Option two, I’ll publish an exclusive story breaking the news of your secret child and the relationship you had to keep it quiet. Either way, I win. I get money from you directly or I get notoriety for breaking a huge story and make money on clicks and sales. Win-win either way for me.”
I’m furious, and it’s taking every bit of my control to keep from jumping over this desk and pounding this weasel’s face. Elise is mad too, but not nearly as controlled as I am.
She’s like a screeching wildcat, vaulting out of her chair to slam her hands down on the desk, sending Donnie’s jellybean bowl tumbling to the carpet where it bounces. “What the fuck, Donnie? You can’t go around blackmailing people! You cannot publish this story. She’s just a little girl!”
Donnie laughs mockingly, his voice pitching high into a screeching falsetto that’s clearly a mockery of Elise’s voice. “You can’t blackmail people! She’s just a little girl!” He laughs again, leaning back in his chair. “Of course I can. You think this is the first story to get squashed this way? If only you knew the celebs and their secrets in my little black book of dirt. So many juicy stories, all ready to be hung out like dirty laundry for everyone to consume. Or, for the right price, washed and sanitized and never to see the light of day. Why the fuck do you think I stick around this shitrag of a ‘news source’ with the shit pay and bennies? I get ten times that off the books. You can help the Save the Donnie Foundation . . . or the world can find out about you. Your choice.”
I clench my hands in my lap, trying to get ahold of myself. “I’ll sue you and this piece of shit tabloid you’re running. I’ll burn this place to the ground and piss on the ashes.”
Donnie shrugs, unconcerned. “Go ahead. But since what I’m reporting is the truth, you’ll lose. It won’t matter by then anyway, because I’ll have already published the story and gotten the sales and the money off your secrets. You’ll just add fuel to the fire by suing.”