“Why am I paying you again?”

He laughs and grips the back of my neck in a loving act, though I know he could break it in an instant if he wanted to. I’m a big guy, but Haverty’s twice my size, and he reminds me of a hitman with his dark slicked back hair; not someone I’d want to meet on the street late at night, or during the light of day, or in an aisle at the grocery store for that matter. He’s a massive bull who’s always ready to fight or fuck, and I guess that’s why I love him. He fits right in with the rest of my family, especially Sophia and myself. Our fights are like foreplay; she yells and my dick gets hard and I want to fuck her, and I know she can’t wait to torture me with her tongue to punish me when I’m being an ass.

“You thinking about fucking your wife again?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You zone out when you’ve got Sophia or her father running through your head, but with the grin, I’d say its Soph this time.”

“I owe her a fuck, and an apology, or an apologetic fuck. I should have respected her decision to fire Ivy. Who gives a shit about free advertising or pissing Kaitlyn Moore off? That was senseless on my part.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll meet you over there, ball biter.”

He laughs as he jogs up to the Escalade. “You’re just not as good at jesting as I am, Cove, but practice makes perfect, right... ball biter?” he grins.

It’s warming up outside, supposed to be a humid day. I take a deep breath of the summer air and wait for him to leave before taking the note out of my pocket. It’s an address and time to meet her tonight. I hate shit like this, just fucking tell me what’s going on... damn it, now I know how Sophia felt this morning. I did the same thing to her. Speak of the devil. Must be her calling. Yep.

“Hey, Soph. Doing okay?” I ask.

“Your parents want to know what’s up. I’m not good at lying to them, Cove, especially to your mother. She can see right through me.”

“Where are you?”

“In their bathroom.”

“You know she’s probably outside the door listening, right?”

She’s silent for a moment then sighs. “What are you doing?” she whispers.

“Haverty and I are on our way to the Scarlett. Don’t worry; I’ll be home soon, alright? Tell my mother to keep breakfast warm. It will calm her down if she knows I won’t be gone for long.”

“Okay. I feel better knowing Haverty’s with you. Love you.”

“You too. Hang in there.” I end the call and bring Ivy’s number up on my phone as I head for the bar. She needs to get both her ass and the article over there. Now.

CHAPTER THREE

“Have a seat. Haverty, get us each a water.”

Ivy sits at the bar and crosses her legs. She’s wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts, exposing her tan muscular legs. She jogs, I can tell by their definition and the cross trainer she has on under her tank. Soph has a few of those and I know women need them for support when they run, plus Ivy’s tits are like her mother’s, too big for my taste, but still hard not to drop your eyes on, especially when it’s clear she enjoys showing them off.

“I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong.”

“Start at the beginning. Tell me where you found the article.”

“Can I have a beer instead of a water?” she asks.

“No, I’m not giving you a drink, not when you’re here outside of business hours and it’s this early in the morning. This is a serious discussion, start talking.” She fucking twirls her hair again. Same blonde dye job as her mother’s, and it’s obvious by the roots that the original color is a dark brown. “Spit it out, Ivy.”

Haverty places the glasses on the bar and stands with his arms crossed, flexing his muscles, probably trying to intimidate her. She sips the water and puts a small shoulder bag in front of me. I know it’s in there, but I wait, I’m not digging through a woman’s stuff, she needs to take it out.

“I wasn’t looking for it, it was something I came across where my mother usually keeps some extra cash, which is strange because I never saw it there before; in her home office, top desk drawer, under a change purse. It was like she wanted me to see it or something. I thought the headline was interesting so I kept reading and found out it was about Sophia’s father.”

“How did you know my wife’s last name and that the article was about her father?”

“Oh, come on,” her eyes roll as she sips more water. “Everyone knows her dad was the king of porn and that you worked for his company. Cove Everton... porn star... or just Star. That’s what your name was, right? What do you think we talk about when you’re not around? The other girls here have photos of you naked that they pass around. It’s big fun.”

I exhale, and trace the rim of the glass with my finger, pissed that she would be so crass to say such a thing to her boss. Fucking bitch. I peer at Haverty who seems just as angry. He nods and acknowledges my silent request to take care of the gossip.

“I’ll put a stop to it,” he says.

“Do so before Sophia comes across anything else,” I add. “I’m sure it started with one person and spiraled out of control.”

He nods and glares at Ivy who is quick to defend.

“Well it wasn’t me. I just found the article two days ago.”

“I may just fire everyone and start over,” I mumble. “Get a whole new crew in here.”

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“So you were just adding to the fun? Right? Let me tell you something, Paul Jameson would have had you on your knees and sucking him off within a minute of meeting him. This subject is far from humorous, and I’m not pleased.”

“Whoa,” Haverty says with a step forward.

“Give me the article,” I demand in a cold voice.

She opens her bag and takes it out of an inside pocket. Just as I thought, it’s from a porn magazine, and not a newspaper clipping. Folded a few times, with the creases worn from being handled, it’s definitely not a recent write up.

“You’re fired, Ivy. We’ll mail you your last check, or you can pick it up next week.”

“Wait, what?”

I head for a back stairwell that leads to my office; an open loft space overlooking the downstairs floor.

“Cove! I apologized to you and your wife. Please. My mother’s going to kill me if I lose another job. She said I’d have to deliver newspapers for her again!”

She starts to cry as I walk up the stairs to my office, article in hand, not wanting to read it, yet knowing it will have a hold on me if I don’t. The front door buzzes as Haverty lets her out.

Two plush leather swivel chairs are set by the edge of a movie theater style balcony, one for myself and one for Sophia. We like to sit and have a drink late at night when we need a break from the crowd, yet still want to keep an eye on the place. I take a seat and watch Haverty clean and dry the glasses until I can’t hesitate any longer. I unfold the paper and come eye-to-eye with a photograph of my wife’s father.

Paul Jameson... his hands on the back of a woman’s head as she kneels before him, his grin running from ear to ear, beady eyes looking into mine. He had me in that position before. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk to Sophia about it, or anyone else for that matter. Some secrets are too dark to ever leave one’s mouth.

Based on his haircut and clothing, I’d say the article is a good ten years old, maybe more. I start to read as Haverty takes a seat next to me.

“That was harsh... what you did to Ivy. You hired her, then your wife fired her, then you hired her back only to fire her again a few hours later? What the fuck? That’s not like you.”

“If you ever want to see a flip in my personality, then call me by my porn name.”

“I’ll make note of that. So what does it say?” he asks.