Villain, Page 3

  “You’ll leave her alone,” he demanded.

  Guessing there was no point in being coy considering he’d seen my desk, I asked, “Why are you here instead of Carraway?”

  Lexington flashed me a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Because I’m the nice one. Caine scares Imelda. He scares most people. Not you, though.” He took another step toward me, seeming to be cataloguing every little nuance of my face. “And if you’re not careful, that lack of fear could ruin you, Miss Ray.”

  If I’d been smarter, I would’ve told Lexington everything there and then. But his threats cut open the wounds Dick had caused. That others had caused. How I was sick of men trying to bully me. “I don’t care how Carraway made his money in his youth, and anyway, there is no evidence to prove he did what Imelda told Dick he did.”

  It was a slight movement, so miniscule most wouldn’t have noticed, but Lexington’s shoulders lowered ever so, just enough to tell me he was relieved. Which meant there was probably truth in what Imelda had said.

  Interesting.

  “But that’s not the story I found.”

  Lexington’s jaw clenched and he cocked his head to the side. There was something about being the sole focus of this man that made me nervous and insecure. I put it down to the fact that I was alone with him in my apartment and he’d politely threatened me.

  “I’ve seen you in the morning doing the weather reports.” He dropped his gaze for the first time, deliberately raking it over my body, before moving back up to my face. “You’re hard to miss.”

  I kept my expression carefully blank, not liking his derisive tone. Not at all.

  “How then,” he took a step toward me, “does a weather girl end up chasing tabloid gossip?”

  But he didn’t give me a chance to explain, or to tell him what I’d already planned to tell Carraway. “Tabloid journalists are bottom feeders. Lowly scum on the evolutionary chain.” His upper lip curled in distaste and I hated that it was directed at me. Defiance shuddered through me but I held it together. Who was he to judge me? He’d had money and power his whole life. He didn’t know what it was like to be made to feel like a victim.

  I flinched, goddamn him.

  And he saw it. His brows drew together as he studied me and his tone softened ever so slightly. “Caine doesn’t know you’re digging, and he doesn’t need to know. Stop.”

  He seemed to take my non-answer as agreement because he walked past me to leave.

  What was I doing?

  Just because this man was an asshole didn’t mean Carraway wasn’t still the answer to my problem with Dick.

  I hurried after Lexington, and as he opened my door, I called out, “The story is about his mother’s death and whether the Hollands are connected to it. Alistair Holland. Was he there when she died and did someone cover it up? Is Carraway’s PA Alexa related to the Hollands? And if so, why is she working for him?”

  Henry whipped around and barreled me back into the wall before I could even blink, anger emanating from every part of his body as he trapped me. Infuriating heat and expensive cologne engulfed my senses. “How much do you want?” he seethed.

  Shock and fear quickly turned to disgust and disappointment.

  How stupid was I to think this guy could help me?

  How stupid was I to think any man could help me?

  I was right before.

  I needed to fix this myself. Like always.

  “You people think you can do whatever the hell you like, don’t you,” I said, my voice hollow in my ears, “Throw money at the problem and it’ll go away.”

  “Don’t pretend like I’m the bad guy here, Miss Ray. I’m not the cruel woman playing journalist, plucking guesses out of rubble and trying to put them together like a puzzle to wound strangers who don’t deserve the consequences of your poisoned pen.”

  I wasn’t trying to do that, you arrogant bastard!

  I gave him a hard, mocking smile. “How poetic of you, Mr. Lexington.”

  “Don’t think seduction will work here,” he bit out, staring at my mouth, surprising me because seduction was the last thing on my mind. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not swayed by every pretty face I see.” He pushed off the wall and stepped back. “You will bury this story or I will bury your career.”

  Hurt kept me pinned to the wall. “And here I was led to believe you were the most charming man in Boston.”

  “Oh, I am. But some people aren’t worth the energy.”

  And on that last well-placed parting shot, he marched out of my home, slamming the door behind him.

  Feeling exhausted, I hurried to lock my door. Slumping against it, tears of anger pricked my eyes.

  I hated Dick.

  And I hated Lexington.

  To spite him, I should give Dick the story. Clearly from Lexington’s reaction there was truth in it.

  But I wasn’t a spiteful person and it wasn’t Carraway’s fault that his friend was a dipshit. And it certainly wasn’t Alexa Holland’s fault.

  I’d still find a way to bury it, and not because Lexington had bullied me, but because it was the right thing to do.

  I was in hell.

  More of a hell than usual.

  Dining with Dick.

  Which meant I’d barely eaten a thing and was getting lightheaded on wine.

  It was a few days after Lexington had bullied me at my apartment and I was no closer to figuring out a way to get Dick off this story and off my back. Instead, Dick’s boss, Jack, had asked Dick and I to wine and dine a possible investor in WCVB.

  Mitchell Montgomery, the toilet paper king.

  Yes, the guy made a lot of money in toilet paper.

  It made sense, right? Everybody needed toilet paper.

  And apparently the toilet paper king liked This Morning and he especially liked the weather reports. It was becoming clear on this little lunch why Mitchell Montgomery had earned the moniker, “The Asswipe.”

  Somehow I’d gotten through the meal but to my horror, Mitchell had insisted we join him in the cocktail bar for a midday Scotch.

  “You know what I was thinking,” Mitchell leered at me, “you should start wearing a bikini under a transparent raincoat while you’re reporting the news. That would be adorable.”

  Oh yes, adorable for sure.

  “Great idea,” Dick agreed.

  Like that was a surprise.

  I shot him a filthy look, the lack of food and three glasses of wine having lowered my survival instincts. “It’s a little demeaning, don’t you think?”

  Dick kicked me under the table.

  “Are you a feminist?” Mitchell scowled.

  “Definitely.”

  “You don’t look like a feminist.”

  What the hell did a feminist look like? Ugh.

  “Nadia is joking, of course. All of your ideas—”

  “Lexington!” Mitchell cut off my boss as he yelled over our shoulders.

  My shoulders hunched up around my ears at the name he called out.

  Seconds later a familiar deep, smooth voice said, “Mitchell, how are you?” And then he was there, standing over our table.

  “Coming from a lunch meeting?” Mitchell asked.

  “Yes, with Carraway. He’s gone back to his office and I’m heading to mine.” His eyes shot to me but he didn’t give anything away before turning back to Mitchell.

  “Join us for a little while.”

  To my horror, Lexington swiftly agreed and slid in beside Mitchell.

  “Lexington, this is Dick and Nadia. This is Henry Lexington. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Lexington, Dick and Nadia are from WCVB.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder too hard. “You must have seen this gorgeous creature doing the weather.”

  My attempt at a smile failed, becoming more of a grimace.

  “Of course.” Lexington surprised me by throwing me a wide, flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you, Nadia.”

  It was the first time he’d said my first name.r />
  In that moment I had to wonder what meeting him would have been like if we didn’t hate each other. To our companions, Lexington seemed charming as ever, but I saw the coolness in the back of his eyes when he looked at me.

  “I’m thinking of investing in the station,” Mitchell told him.

  “Ah, I see.”

  “It would be a wise decision.” Dick smiled at Lexington. “Food for thought.”

  Lexington chuckled. “Not my area of expertise. I’ll leave the investing in media to Mitchell here.”

  “Well, I don’t like to brag but I’ve got some ideas.” Mitchell smirked. “I was telling them about one. Don’t you think Nadia would look fantastic in a bikini and one of those transparent raincoat things while she reported the weather? That would certainly increase the ratings, right?” He nudged Lexington with his elbow and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  I was trapped in the middle of the good ol’ boys club.

  Something like irritation flickered in Lexington’s expression. “And what does Miss Ray think of that idea?”

  “Hates it.”

  Dick kicked me again and I winced.

  Lexington studied me for a moment and then Dick, before he turned his attention back to Mitchell. He grinned suddenly and clapped the man on the shoulder. “It’s a goddamn awful idea, Mitchell.”

  Surprise turned to more surprise when Mitchell laughed and agreed Lexington was probably right.

  How did he do that? How did he criticize someone and get away with it?

  They spoke for a little bit about our governor and local politics and then Mitchell turned back to me. “Now, now, we’re being rude and neglecting my guest. We should talk about things more on her level.”

  Because politics weren’t on my level?

  “What would you suggest?” I attempted not to seethe.

  Mitchell shrugged. “Shoes?”

  He and Dick laughed but I noted Lexington didn’t. He seemed embarrassed for me.

  Or for my dinner companions?

  “Oh, I know,” Mitchell leaned toward me, “I have a question that’s plagued me for a while now. Is… is your ass real or is that surgery? Because if it’s real… Jesus H. Christ.”

  My stomach roiled as Dick laughed beside me and offered, “It’s all real,” like he knew from firsthand experience. Which he did not.

  “Okay, gentlemen,” Lexington patted Mitchell’s shoulder again, “I think you’ve had too much to drink. I’ll need to ask you to remember your manners.”

  “Oh, we’re kidding. She knows that.”

  Inside I was screaming.

  Two months ago my life was going somewhere. I was successful, respected, and popular.

  Lately I felt like a play toy in a man’s world, and I thought I’d left that feeling behind.

  “Mitchell,” Lexington warned.

  The Asswipe sobered and held up his hands in surrender. “I apologize.” He turned to me and took my hand in his to press his lips to my knuckles. “I apologize, dear lady.”

  I wanted to rip my own hand off and beat him over the head with it.

  Instead I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” I used the term loosely. “I need to visit the restroom.”

  As I got up and walked away, I heard Mitchell say, “You’ve got to admit, though, that is quite the ass.”

  Alone in the ladies’ restroom, I was shocked to discover how badly I was trembling.

  No job in the world was worth this.

  No.

  Never.

  Tears burned in my throat as I tried to catch my breath and make my decision.

  I was quitting.

  And tomorrow I was going above Lexington to tell Caine Carraway everything.

  Decision made, I knew I couldn’t crumble when I went back out there. I would excuse myself and then call Dick when I got home to tell him I quit.

  Throwing open the door, I came to an abrupt halt at the sight of my boss glowering outside of it.

  Dick gripped my right bicep and hauled me none too gently down the empty corridor out of sight where he practically threw me against the wall.

  Fear and anger pulsed through me and I made to shove past him but he trapped me with the entire length of his body. His heat and hardness overwhelmed, his cologne suffocating me again. The feel of his hot breath on my forehead made my breathing tight and short. When you wanted a man’s attention, the weight of his body could be comforting; when you didn’t want a man’s attention, the weight of his body could feel like a two hundred-pound prison.

  Revulsion shuddered through me.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at? When we get back out there, you’re going to start acting like the little whore I know you are and get me this investment.”

  “You are so done,” I hissed, enraged.

  He bowed his head so his lips were almost touching mine and I struggled against him as he pinned my wrists to the wall at my sides. “There is only one way to get your way, Nadia. Appeasing me.”

  “Forget it,” I tried to head-butt him but he jerked back in surprise. “That story on Carraway is never going to see the light of day. I was never going to let it.”

  Anger flooded his face red. “The only way that story will die, the only way you can get anything you want, is by doing what I want. I’m your boss, princess, and I make or break you.” He rubbed against me. “We both know you’ve spread to get ahead before so let’s stop playing the innocent virgin. It doesn’t do it for me.”

  “I’d rather lose everything… you piece of shit.”

  The scent of his cologne abruptly dissipated, my body released from the weight of his. I blinked as the blur in front of me focused into Henry Lexington pinning Dick to the opposite wall with an arm at his throat.

  I thought I’d seen Henry mad before now.

  But I was wrong.

  His face was dark with fury as he bared his teeth at Dick. “Blackmail, Dicky boy? You are so fucked.” He flicked a look back at me. “You okay?”

  I glared at them both. “How long were you standing there?”

  “I heard everything.” He turned back to Dick. “And she’s right. You are so done. Someone has been a very bad boss.”

  My stomach dropped.

  He’d let Dick pin me to the wall that entire time?

  He should have ripped the fucker off me as soon as he saw what he was doing, not stopped to eavesdrop!

  Yes, by eavesdropping Henry gave me a witness to Dick’s crimes against me, I knew that. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I should be relieved and grateful. The relief would come, but gratitude? No.

  I couldn’t get over the fact that Lexington had stood and watched Dick assault me and hadn’t done anything to stop it until he knew I was innocent of crimes against his friend.

  I was done. With both of these men.

  So I left them to it, hoping they ripped each other apart until there was nothing left of them.

  * * *

  Suffice it to say I didn’t sleep much that night. I vacillated between the horror of wondering how long it would’ve taken me or some kind stranger to save me from Dick’s assault at the restaurant, and worrying about my future. When I closed my eyes, I could hear Dick calling me a whore, and I could feel his body on mine again. I’d shudder and my eyes would fly open in the dark. Keeping my eyes open was the only reminder that I was safe. But I wouldn’t continue to be safe if I stayed in that job. Despite my anger toward Henry for waiting it out to hear what he wanted to hear before rescuing me, the relief did come. I finally had a witness to Dick’s harassment. If shit hit the fan, I would hopefully have Henry’s testimony. Until when, or if, that ever happened, I was walking away with my career untarnished.

  So when I arrived at the station the next morning, looking like hell I might add, it was with every intention of quitting.

  However, it soon became apparent that there would be no need for such drastic action on my part.

  “
Did you hear?” Barbara approached me as soon as I walked in.

  “About?”

  “Dick.”

  My heart thumped in my chest. “What about him?”

  “He was fired. Apparently, he was arrested last night. Caught on camera slipping Rohypnol into a girl’s drink at a private nightclub last month.”

  “What?” I breathed. “How?”

  “Apparently the nightclub ‘lost’ the footage and then it miraculously turned up.”

  “Miraculously,” I muttered.

  Or not so miraculously.

  My PI found nothing but apparently, Lexington’s PI was better than mine.

  “I’m running the show until they send us a new guy.”

  “Glad to hear it.” I suddenly hugged her.

  Barbara tensed in surprise and then hugged me back. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

  The powerlessness I’d felt these last few weeks, the renewed shame and guilt, the exhaustion, and yes, the fear, coalesced inside me. My control was decimated. Tears filled my eyes and a sob slipped out before I could stop it.

  “Nadia?” Barbara drew back, took one look at me, and hurried me into a conference room for privacy. “Did Dick do something to you?”

  I couldn’t tell her any of it because telling her would mean talking about Carraway and it wasn’t my right to. I brushed away tears. “I just didn’t like him.”

  “Sweetie, I’ve never seen you cry. There has to be more to it than that.”

  I shrugged, deciding to go with a half-truth. “He was getting more suggestive. And yesterday at lunch with Mitchell Montgomery… they…” More tears spilled as I remembered. “I felt like nothing. A piece of ass. Being there, letting them talk to me like that, it felt like I was giving them permission to do whatever they wanted to me. And that scared me. I was going to quit this morning.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Barbara hugged me again. “I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? And next time,” she pulled back to stare sternly into my eyes, “you tell me. There are a few bad apples still left in our line of work, and sometimes it’s hard for a woman. But not if we stick together. Okay? Promise me.”