Playing with the Enemy

As I cleaned up, and my secretary knocked lightly on my door, I pushed the entire Malroy family out of my mind.

I stepped out, clean and lightly sprayed. My secretary flushed. I had put on a fragrance she had gotten for me.

I smiled at her while I rolled my eyes internally.

Why do all these tricks think they mean more than what they can provide in the sack?! I cursed.

==========

Jayden's POV

"How can it be only one p.m.!" I cursed aloud in my office.

My dick had not gone anywhere close to the direction I needed to, and I couldn't concentrate on anything I needed to do.

I had snapped at three designers and had slammed the phone down on two suppliers.

My secretary had taken the day off. Reece was a smart man. Too fucking smart. He had heard my conversation with Martin. One I had carried out on speaker as I paced my office floor, bellowing at my only friend in the world.

"What the fuck, Martin?! How could you let this fucking happen? Are you a traitor now? Are you stabbing me in the back? How the fuck did that son of a bitch bastard get on this? How did you let this happen?" I exploded as soon as my top lawyer, Martin Cole, picked up the phone on his end.

"I'm sorry, Jade. I swear, I didn't know –" he pressed placatingly.

"How could you not know?" I shot back immediately, "You're a fucking lawyer! You're MY fucking lawyer! How many fucking years has it been? How can you fuck up like this? Are you high on something new? Did he get something on you? How can –"

"Jade, please, I'm sorry. Give me a second to explain!" he pleaded, lowering his voice as he entered a smaller room, a door shut quietly in the background.

I could see him, hunched over the speaker, covering the phone with his hand, as if that would mute my volume or his.

"Explain what you second-rate, barrel-scraping, gutter rat?" I all but screamed.

That was when Reece tapped something on his keyboard and swept out of sight. My door was shut, but my office was not sound proof.

Martin sighed heavily.

"I'll take that as your anger talking, Jade, and I'll express my gratitude that you're using words and not taking my firm apart instead," he stated patiently.

He paused.

I waited.

"Please, Jayden. Believe me. I know everything. Remember? I was there, before, and after, remember? Please, you know me. Think about it. Even you didn't know, right? come on. For old time's sake, let me speak. Can I?" he asked carefully, slowly. I could feel the heaviness behind his tone.

I wasn't a bad-tempered person. I wasn't a hot head. But I was pissed. Beyond what my public mask could carry.

Martin, however, knew me better than anyone else, except maybe my sister, Rina.

I inhaled deeply. "Talk. Fast."

"He's Sir Sinclair's son from a different marriage. He has used his mother's name his whole life, and the old man never made him change it. He wasn't even really in the family's life, not directly. He was provided for, but that was it. Until he graduated law school with honors, and his other three brothers died or vanished."

He paused.

I did as well.

He didn't say what I knew he was thinking. What we were both thinking. Leon was not just a bastard; he was a special kind of devil. But we didn't go there.

Martin continued.

"He's been abroad for years. Came back to the States a little over a year ago. This business with the construction is his father's dream, been on for a long time. That's why the selection process was as detailed and extensive as it was."

"I mean, who does multiple selections and insists on interviews with the applicants before even running a first draft review, only to do it all again at every stage?"

"It's a lot of money," I remarked evenly, finally feeling my shoulders relax. "The level of security features to go into that place is the kind that got builders and their families executed in the olden days, once the task was done," I concluded matter-of-factly.

I could see my friend nodding on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, I can see that happening, but this is the modern age, there are better ways to vet people. Faster ways," he commented swiftly, keeping our conversation moving forward.

"Sinclair is old school. I got all that from talking with him. I'm sure we only got past some of the checkpoints because our company is one of the oldest in the city," I replied offhandedly.

"He never took any interest in his father's project. But he walked in today. I almost had a heart attack. I swear. I don't think he even recognized me. He was a senior by the time we got in so...he probably wouldn't," Martin stated calmly.

"And we didn't hang around that much after I... Yeah...he might not know you at all," I commented quietly, my voice drifting away.

Martin paused. "So...am I forgiven, friend?"

I aspirated. "Listen, friend, the only way I will ever forgive you is if you forgive me for being an asshole just now."

"Deal."

"You sure?"

"Of course. I'm just glad Rina hasn't –"

"Martin..." I cut in.

"Oh, yeah, fuck, I almost forgot," he remarked, laughing nervously.

I smiled lightly on my end. I said it for him in my mind – We don't talk about Rina.

Martin cleared his throat. "What's the plan? You gonna work with the kid?"

I saw the boy's face. Adrian Sinclair. Both versions. The one from this morning and the one from last night. I sighed.

"Do we have a choice?"

"Put someone else on it," Martin remarked.

"You know I can't do that. My father would have an aneurysm!" I fake-complained.

"Then let him do it," Martin pressed lightly.

I paused. Thinking for a moment. My father was an excellent architect, but he had also stepped back from active work, to spend time with my mother.

He had given his input on my designs for the project, at every stage, but it was mostly to agree, not really to make any changes.

"If you tell him who it is..." my friend's voice drifted off.

I shook my head.

"No," I replied slowly. "He's given me the reigns. This is my job. If I run away from every fuck I've had, I should just close up shop," I declared with a levity I did not feel.

Martin laughed.

I knew he would.

I was exaggerating; I hadn't fucked that many people, but what it really was, was that I didn't fuck those types of people, and Martin knew it.

I fully relaxed now, sinking into my chair.

"Read that contract again, Marty. Please, cover my family," I stated quietly when my friend's laughter subsided.

The weight between us was palpable.

"Of course," he replied, his voice thick. "See you this weekend?" he added carefully.

"See you this weekend," I replied firmly.

We hung up.

I stared at the wall. I checked the clock.

2:31 p.m.

Definitely, Father Time is fucking with me... I mused as my dick pushed against my pants. I closed my eyes, forcing it to stay down. To wait for nighttime.