Chasing Vivi(4)

By: A.M. Hargrove

I could sue his ass if I had the money. My hands fist and I want to punch something, preferably Joe’s face. Instead, I shove one into the pocket of my coat, which I never took off, being constantly cold in the city. That’s when my fingers brush over it. The card Prescott passed to me in the coffee shop. And that’s when the idea comes to me.

Do I dare?

It could come back to haunt me, but at this point I can’t afford to lose my job until I can find another one, and over my dead body am I being blackmailed into sleeping with my boss.

“Joe, do you know who Prescott Beckham is?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Well, yeah.” His expression conveys that I’m a dumbass for asking. “Who doesn’t? He’s one of the richest guys in New York. Well, probably the country. What does that have to do with anything?”

I lean an elbow on the table and grab a chunk of hair. Twirling it, I say, “He was in the coffee shop this morning. He comes in a lot. Did you know that?”

Joe sits up in his chair. “No shit. Like how much?”

Dropping my hair, I wave my hand. “Eh, it doesn’t matter. What does is that Prescott is a very close friend of mine.”

He leans back and now he thinks I’m off my rocker. “Yeah, right, Vivi.”

“Don’t believe me. I honestly don’t care. But he is. We went to high school together. Crestview Academy in Virginia. I can call him right now, to prove my point. But whatever.”


I scoot in a little closer. “So this. What you’re doing to me is considered sexual harassment in the workplace, and I’m sure if I called Prescott right now, he could get me one of his high-powered attorney buddies and sue your ass for everything it’s worth. So, Joe, I’ll happily accept your raise with no strings attached, of course.” I wink at him, adding, “Because you know, that little addition of demanding sexual favors is illegal as shit.”

And then I pull Prescott’s card out and lay it on the table, watching his eyes saucer.

“Any questions?”

Chapter 2


Vivienne Renard. Of all the people to run into this morning, I never expected her to be one of them. And damn if she wasn’t a sight for sore eyes. Hungover ones, too. Talk about changing from an ugly duckling into a blazing smoke show. Jesus, I can’t believe how hot she is. There’s not a single thing about her that isn’t fucking perfection. But it’s that mouth of hers that nearly set me off. All I could think of was how it would feel wrapped tightly around my dick, sucking me until ... It’s a good thing I was wearing a coat to hide the boner she gave me. But damn if she didn’t turn me down for a date. Fuck that. No one ever does that. Game on. She’s just made it my mission to change her mind. It’s what I’m good at—getting women to do what I want. Besides, I can’t get that image of her mouth on me out of my head. Even though her memories of me probably aren’t the best, she did make a little bank off me back in the day. Poor girl ran all over the place doing my homework. If it hadn’t been for her, I never would’ve graduated from Crestview. Too bad she hadn’t gone to the same college as me. I probably wouldn’t have dropped out. It’s not like I needed a degree, though. Family money gets you everywhere, as I like to say.

My coffee cup’s empty by the time I make it to Whitworth Enterprises. The high-rise looms before me. Dad keeps trying to find ways to cut me out, but it ain’t gonna happen … ever.

I pass the lobby security, giving the guys a wave as they greet me by name and step on the open elevator, reserved for the top floor only. When it reaches the destination, the doors softly whoosh open, and I exit to see Cheryl’s smiling face.

“Good morning, Mr. Beckham.”

“Morning, Cheryl.” I give her my famous, megawatt grin. She’s cute and I’d normally fuck someone like her, but I never mix business with pussy. That’s one rule I’ve never broken and I don’t ever plan to. I can do some pretty shitty things at times, but that’s a line I’ll never cross. Suddenly, Vivi’s mouth pops into my head again and I have to think of something else. I don’t want another boner as I just got my dick to calm down as it is. Then, as I close in on the executive offices, the atmosphere thickens. My skin crawls. All thoughts of Vivi vanish as I arrive at my own expansive haven. My admin sits like a bear directly outside the door.

“Lynn, how are you today?”

“Mr. Beckham, I’m well, and you?” She scrutinizes me and immediately notices I’m hungover. She reaches in her drawer and tosses me a bottle of water. “Do you require any ibuprofen this morning?”

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