ou can't do this! You can't just cut me off!"
"Y
My father looms over me, his wrinkled face set into a cold, indifferent mask I've seen him
use on a hundred different people: restaurant servers, business partners, so-called friends, and even my mother.
But never with me.
I was the one softness he allowed in his life.
Until now.
Anger churning in his eyes, he lifts his finger and shakes it at me, like I'm a disobedient dog that chewed his favorite slippers. Except what I've done is worse; I've made him look bad to his business colleagues. And that's something I should never, ever hope he'll forgive.
"I told you. I told you that if you were intent on blackmailing the Baxter family, then you had better make sure you succeed. You had better make sure it was going to work. But it didn't, did it? Damien Baxter left you. Again!" The spittle on his lips flies as he hisses the words. Drenched with disappointment. Eyes glistening like glaciers as he shakes his head. "You failed, dear daughter of mine. And I don't tolerate failure." And I had.
I had failed. When I tried to use my father to blackmail Damien into marrying me, it had worked. For a while. But I had misjudged how much he had changed. And when he called off our engagement for the second time. I knew this day would come.
Father takes a deep breath, looking away from me for a moment before he squares his shoulders, and says, "I want you out of this house by tomorrow morning. The jet will take you to New York, and you can stay in one of our apartments there. For three months. Then you'll have to find your own place. With your own money. I think that's more than fair."
It sounds anything but fair. "But, Father-"
"Hush. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth. I told you before you insisted on this ridiculous plan that if it didn't work, there would be consequences. So go, start a new life in the United States. I don't care. I just don't want to see your face..."
"You can't do this to me!"
He walks over to his desk and pulls out a thick yellow envelope with my name on it. "Here," he says, dropping it on the table. "Your cards and accounts have been frozen. This should be enough for a few months. After that... well, maybe it's time to find out what it's like to earn your own living for once."
No, he wouldn't... he couldn't do this to me...
"What about Damien? You're just going to let him do this to me? To us? I thought you said you'd never let anyone besmirch the Masters name?"
"My relationship with the Baxters, and as the chairman of the board of their company, is my business. You should start worrying about your own life."
"But... Damien..."
He slams his hand down on the table, his voice terrifying as he screams, "Enough!! You never loved him, and he sure as hell never loved you. He found his way out of your ridiculous arrangement, and you need to as well. Best you can do, Clarissa, is try to forget you ever heard the name 'Baxter'.
MATTHIAS
rom EntertainMe. com
F
"Playboy billionaire Matthias Baxter is once again in deep water after two women coming forward, claiming that he is the father of their unborn children after he forced them to have unprotected sex. The women have contacted the media after they say that all efforts to contact Baxter have been in vain.
This news comes after a string of other stories about the bachelor billionaire including a dalliance with an ambassador's daughter and taking her on a joyride on the Hudson on a jet ski last month. As usual, there has been no comment from Baxter Enterprises. No doubt, though, that behind the scenes, there must be some discussion as to whether this will affect the public listing of their subsidiary child care company, Kids & Care, in three months' time.
Anyone want to take bets to see if Matthias Baxter can keep it in his pants until then?"
***
"Harder. Do it harder!"
A grunt. "I'm doing it as hard as I can!"
"Come on, Katie," I say, my voice muffled against the hole in the massage table, as my masseuse drills her elbow into the small of my back. "I have a lot of tension to work out."
"I would think that you have had more than enough help to relieve your tension," Katie snickers.
She hasn't really stopped laughing since I came down to her massage room twenty minutes ago. After the news broke this morning, I hightailed it downstairs to the spa I'd set up in my company's headquarters for moments just like this.
"It's not fucking funny, Katie. I'm no one's baby daddy. And that unprotected sex bullshit is just that.," I grumble. "Hey, I'd double bag if I had to make sure that no woman can go around saying that she has Matthias Baxter, Jr. in her belly."
Katie moves around the table and jabs her elbow into my shoulder blade, making me yelp. "Um, I don't think that's where the baby is-"
"You know what I mean!"
This time it's not just a snicker, she outright guffaws and slaps her hand across my bare ass.
Considering we slept together a few times about four years ago, there doesn't really seem to be any need to be modest around her. I scowl into the hole, glad she can't see me, or else she'd be laughing even harder. These bogus news stories are the bane of my existence. After living here in Manhattan for seven years now, I would've thought that the entertainment channels would be more than sick of plastering my fucking face on their big screens. It's not the allegations themselves that annoy me- they're always quickly quietened with a fat check-it's how they affect business. I'm spending more time putting out fires than actually getting any work done.