“We'll then leak it to the press,” Wesley says.
“Will we?” I say as I stand up. “I have a better idea. Why don't we make our little tryst the halftime show at the next Knicks game?”
I start pacing back and forth on my side of the table.
“Or better yet,” I continue, “we'll return to one of our scenes of the crime—Central Park. Except for this time, we'll do it on the Shakespeare in the Park stage. I think they're doing Othello this year. The actors won't mind, right? And we'll already have an audience just waiting to watch Elsa and I fuck.”
“Honestly, we thought you'd be on board about this,” Greg says.
“The way you've conducted your life,” Ned says, “we've actually been bracing ourselves for years for a sex tape of you to leak.”
“We figured you'd just need to convince Elsa to do it,” Weasley Wesley says, “but it's not like you've ever had to work hard to convince a woman to sleep with you, right?”
“You thought I'd be on board with this?” I've stopped pacing and can only stand in a shocked stupor with my hands on my waist.
“After the little stunt on the bench,” Greg says while looking at the other board members for agreement, “we assumed there isn't a level you wouldn't stoop to.” I see nods from a few of the other men.
“You thought wrong.”
I try to calm the fuck down before I launch myself across this table and strangle one or more of these idiotic, unfeeling men—men that unfortunately still hold my fate in their hands.
“Why do you even have to tell her it's being taped?” Ned asks. “That'll make it even hotter.”
“What we want—what we need—is for this to go viral,” Greg says. “The best publicity is when you get it for free.”
“Not everything that costs is paid in cash,” I say.
“Don't tell us you've developed a conscience.”
“Or morals?”
“Or worse yet, real feelings for her?”
As I'm staring at this group of douches, I run a little cost-benefit analysis in my head. Would it be worth it to punch the chairman or Wesley? I'd lose my job and be the laughing stock of the lingerie world.
I could live with that. Swiping the self-satisfied, s
marmy looks off their faces would almost be worth it. Planting my fist on Wesley's nose would definitely be worth it.
But Elsa would lose her company, too. The company she's worked so hard to build from scratch. That's not worth risking.
Instead of delivering the punch every one of them so richly deserves, I calmly stand up, button my suit jacket, and take as long as I fucking please to gather myself.
“Gentlemen,” I say in a level voice, “I'll consider your proposal and let you know my decision.”
I can take this stand with them and keep my emotions in check because I have a fail-safe.
Elsa will never go for it, put herself on display like that. She'll say no, and that'll be the end of it.
The boards will have to think up some other insane media stunt or just let us continue on our course. Lis Langley will come around eventually.
I walk to the door and fling it open with a tad too much force. It slams against the wall, the only thing that belies my calm exterior. I have a moment of regret as I see Marge jump in surprise at the sound of the door connecting with the wall.
“Hold all my calls,” I say as I walk past her towards the elevators. “I'll be out of the office for the rest of the day.”
I pull out my phone and bring up my recent call log. At the very top is her name: Elsa. I punch it and wait for the call to connect. I only begin to calm down—ever so briefly—when I hear that sweet, sexy voice in my ear.
Chapter 19