Change of Harte (Harte, #2) (Harte Series) (2 page)

Six months later

Chapter 4

Her perky, peach ass cheeks clenched as Julian pushed deep inside her and she groaned softly. He placed his palm flat against the base of her spine and lowered her against his desk. She squealed as her nipples touched the cold wood and her whole body jerked.

‘Shh,’ Julian commanded, the sounds of her high-pitch voice putting him off.

He grabbed her waist and rocked his hips roughly, slamming his balls against her clammy skin.

‘Say my name,’ she whispered.

Julian’s pace slowed. He didn’t know her name. If she’d told him, it wasn’t because he’d asked. He dropped his right hand a little lower and slid a couple of fingers against her clit.
Anything to shut her up.
She dropped her head back and gasped. He added a little pressure and soon he could feel her on the edge of orgasm. He wasn’t overly concerned with pleasuring her, but he did enjoy the tightness of her pussy as it spasmed around his cock.

‘Oh, my God. That. Was. A-mazing,’ she said as she turned around to face him.

It wasn’t
. Julian’s face didn’t register a reaction. She twisted her body around to face him. Her arms slipped behind her back and she grabbed the edge of the desk as she leaned forward, running the tip of her tongue against his cock.

Julian raised an eyebrow and his jaw twitched to one side. He placed his hand on her shoulder and used her body to push himself away from her. He caught his boxers and suit trousers from around his ankles and pulled them back up together. Her expression as he zipped up and adjusted his belt was priceless.
Rabbit in the headlights.

‘That’ll be all for today. Thank you.’

‘You’re done?’ she said, irritatingly coy.

‘For now. Yes.’

She was disappointed—it was written all over her face. He was bored.

‘Will I come back later? Maybe we could get some lunch?’

Julian looked at his watch. He had a meeting in less than ten minutes, and he wanted to grab a quick word with Shelly beforehand.

‘I don’t do lunch.’

‘You don’t eat?’

Julian rolled his eyes.
Christ, she is thick as well as irritating.
‘What?’

‘Sorry, I’m not very good at this. I just meant, maybe it would be nice for us to have a chance to, you know, talk and stuff.’

Julian picked up her khaki shirtdress off the floor, shook it out, just once, and handed it to her. ‘I don’t think so. If I want to see you again, you’ll know.’ Julian flicked his eyes toward the large, solid oak, double doors of his office, hoping she’d pick up on his subtle gesture. He wouldn’t usually have any problem asking her to leave, but most women followed that request with either a tantrum or tears and he really didn’t have time for either today. 

‘Okay. Well, you’ll call me, then?’ she said smiling as she buttoned her dress back up.

‘No.’

She repeated her best rabbit in headlights impersonation, only this time it was less amusing. Julian glanced at his watched again. Another one who was expecting more from this than they were going to get.
With all the gossip about cock size, would it kill the rumour mill to mention he didn’t do intimate?

‘I have somewhere I need to be.’ He rummaged in his desk drawer while talking. ‘If you need a moment before you go back downstairs, fair enough. The coffee machine is over there; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’

‘Coffee? What? Coffee!’

‘I don’t drink tea. So…’ Julian found what he was looking for and smiled as he pulled out a white rectangular envelope from his drawer. He slid a pen out of his inside jacket pocket and quickly scribbled the address that he knew by heart on the front.

‘So…’ she echoed, obviously still waiting for more.

Julian shrugged his shoulders. ‘So, get some tea in the canteen, if that’s what you’re after. I’m leaving now. I will be back in an hour, and I’d appreciate if you weren’t still here.’

‘Oh. My. God.’

‘You said that already.’

She slipped on her shoes, instantly giving her an extra three inches and making her more attractive.

‘This kind of game will catch up with you, Mr. Doe. Someday you will lose.’

Julian’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his alias.
The game, the fucking game.
He spun around his bright, light-filled office. He hadn’t played in six months. The charade meant nothing without Eva. But his reputation preceded him—even with the new girls who wouldn’t have a clue how to play if a rulebook slapped them in the face. All his recent conquests were post-game employees, but it didn’t make them any less curious or gossip fuelled.

Julian turned his back to her and walked toward the door.

‘Asshole. You’re a fucking asshole,’ she screamed, her voice echoing behind him.

Julian spun around and laughed. ‘I’m an asshole because I don’t want you to suck my cock? Or are you

She didn’t reply.

‘Cheers, darling. I’m an asshole and you’re a cheap bitch. Now get out of my office before I fire you.’

She rushed past him, purposely jerking her shoulder against him as she hurried out the door.

‘Asshole. Just an asshole,’ she shouted back.

Julian laughed at her rather limited insult vocabulary, deciding she was lucky he didn’t know her name. To fire her, he’d have to figure out who in the hell she was first. It wasn’t worth the effort.

‘Introducing yourself to our newest employee, I see,’ Shelly joked from behind her desk as Julian walked out of his office. ‘She’s not a crier, I’m impressed.’

‘At least one of us is.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t call so many different girls up and you wouldn’t be disappointed so often.’

Julian liked Shelly. He liked her a lot. Even more since he’d gotten to know her and stopped fucking her. But he knew her loyalties lay with Eva, and even though Shelly wouldn’t admit it, she’d changed over the last few months. He could see Eva’s influence on her, and he liked it. He could also see Shelly didn’t approve of his indulgent lifestyle.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t keep count?’ Julian said, not completely joking.

‘Speaking of counting, I was looking at the holiday schedule...’

Julian scrunched his nose. He hated when Shelly was away—the agency usually replaced her with someone too ugly to fuck or married.

‘…I want to get away for Christmas.’

‘Christmas? That’s in two weeks?’

‘So, is that okay? I’ll log it with HR today, yeah?’

‘How long?’

‘Couple of weeks?’

‘Ah for fuck’s sake, Shell. Okay. But ask the agency to send photos with their temps’ CVs.’

‘Julian.’ Shelly said his name like she was singing.

He wasn’t asking for her approval. He was serious. ‘Aim for brunette, perky tits, and single.’

‘Do you want me to ask if she’s frigid or up-for-it, too?’

Julian shot her a coquettish grin. ‘Now, there’s an idea. If only all Curriculum Vitas included the finer details. It could be listed under hobbies. Certainly makes for a more interesting read than enjoys hockey and painting.’

Shelly shook her head, but Julian couldn’t miss her big toothy grin. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me where I’m going?’ she said.

Julian shook his head. He wasn’t going to make it that easy for her to mention Eva.

‘What are your plans for Christmas, then?’ she asked, noticeably uneasy with the question.

‘I’ve been a naughty boy, Shell. I’m not expecting Santa to visit.’

Christmas was mostly an inconvenience for Julian, but he wouldn’t admit it aloud and rain on Shelly’s parade. He had happy memories of the day as a child. The usual stuff—presents under the tree, a huge roast turkey with all the trimmings, and laughing and cuddles and kisses with his parents. But his last happy Christmas was the one just before his eighth birthday. Of course, the day had still come around every year, but he just sort of zoned out. He didn’t want his memories tarnished with a day that tried too hard to make it up to him. Some care worker in the orphanage would be given the job of dressing up as Santa. The unwilling bastard would slap on a fake smile, irritated that his roster had taken him away from his own children, and hand out flimsy toys that the other kids in the orphanage would fight and argue over. They’d sing Christmas carols over and over and have the best meal of the year. As if for one day—that day only—they were one big, happy family. They could go back to being nobody’s children the next day…and for the rest of the year.

‘I’m going to New York,’ Shelly said abruptly.

Julian twitched and returned his full attention to Shelly, disappointed with his momentary lapse in concentration.

‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold that in.’ He laughed.

‘Well, it’s exciting.’

‘It is. All those shoes and handbags…how will you ever cope with so little time and so many shops?’

‘Oh, piss off,’ Shelly said, leaning over her desk, playfully slapping his shoulder. ‘And Eva, Julian. You know I’m going to see her. Obviously.’

‘I suppose a little festive bonus would help to purchases all these necessities,’ Julian joked.

Shelly’s eyes sparkled. ‘Well, a girl can’t go barefoot, you know.’

‘Can’t argue with that logic.’ Julian pulled out his cheque book from his inside jacket pocket.

A momentary hush had fallen before Shelly spoke again. ‘You know you’re going to have to say her name again at some point. You must at least think about her, yeah?’

Julian’s neck twitched. ‘I think ten thousand should do.’ He glanced up from writing the cheque to gauge Shelly’s response.

She didn’t flinch. He passed her the slim piece of cream paper. She folded it, without even glancing at the figure, and placed it in her desk drawer. She looked exceptionally disheartened for someone who had just received a surprise windfall.

‘You must a least think about her?’ Shelly continued.

‘Charge your flights to the company and fly first class, of course.’

‘Jesus, you really are avoiding this, aren’t you?’

‘What date do you want to fly out? I’ll make sure Anthony is around to drop you at the airport.’

Shelly rolled her eyes. ‘It’s fine. I’ll get a taxi.’ She glanced at the clock behind her. ‘You’re five minutes late for your meeting. Don’t you hate that?’

Julian grimaced and nodded. ‘Yeah, course.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘Post this for me, will you?’

He slid the white envelope out of his back pocket and placed it on the corner of Shelly’s desk, face down. Sending his first ever Christmas card was one thing, but having a conversation about it was entirely another.

He was halfway to the lift before he heard Shelly’s excited squeal. ‘It’s for Eva. I knew you thought about her. I fucking knew it.’

Chapter 5

Later that afternoon, six or seven windows were open on Julian’s desktop browser, but he wasn’t concentrating on any of them. Some little shit, who was five minutes out of college, was set to be the next big thing with his new app. The kid was the goddamn Road Runner of coding; he could write the stuff faster than his peers could pull up their trousers in the morning.

Julian called Shelly into his office and paced the floor for a good ten minutes without speaking.

‘We need to send him a present.’

Shelly smiled.

‘It’s only polite for Ignite Technologies to recognise his genius. I think one blonde and one brunette, or do you think we should send three?’

Shelly rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘I’m sure two will be fine. I’ll call the agency.’

Julian snapped the phone out of her hand and breathed heavily, trying to suppress his flash of temper. ‘No prostitutes.’

‘But I thought… Sorry, Julian. I must have picked you up wrong. I thought you wanted to send some girls around, to…well, erm…you know.’

‘I plan for the little shit’s dick to get sucked so hard he forgets his own name.’

‘So, you do want me to call some hookers, then?’ Shelly pulled a fuck ugly confused face and Julian hoped she wouldn’t do that again.

‘I’m going to let it slide this time, but don’t ever mention the word hooker in front of me again. Do you understand?’

‘Okay. So, who then?’

‘There are plenty of girls who stalk my office like my cock is the answer to world fucking peace. Send two of them.’

‘Isn’t that kind of the same thing?’

Julian’s eyes narrowed to almond-shaped slits. His knuckles whitened around the phone in his hands and it snapped in half, sending glass and plastic raining from his fingers. He ignored the blood trickling from his palms.

‘No! It’s most definitely not the same thing.’

‘Okay. Okay.’ Shelly nodded and pulled some tissue from her pocket and pressed it against his hands.

‘Greedy bitches prepared to use their body for selfish gain are not the same as someone whose body is the only tool they have to survive. Do you understand the difference?’

Shelly nodded and pressed a little harder to stop the bleeding.

Julian didn’t flinch. ‘Sluts and hookers are two very different things. We’re sending him the former. End of.’

Shelly double checked Julian’s hands and walked away, most likely to find another phone.

Julian considered he was being very reasonable. He was leaving this kid with options. Three to be exact.

1. The nerd would probably have his first sexual experience and it would blow his mind, so much so that he wouldn’t be able to function for a month.
   
2. The kid would enjoy a spit roast at Julian’s compliments, be inspired, and go on to create something totally fucking genius. In which case, he was Julian’s kind of guy and would be a welcomed employee in Ignite Tech with a hefty salary.
   
3. The loser would shit his pants at the hotness on his doorstep, send the girls packing, and continue with his lonely existence of a celebratory wank after every few thousand sales. In this event, Julian would be forced to take a walk down to his design department, get his hands dirty for the first time in years, and create something to blow the kid’s frigid ass out of the water.
   

The second option was certainly the most appealing. He’d leave it for twenty-four hours before asking Shelly how it all went.

Less than an hour later, there was a faint knock on Julian’s office door. He sighed, relieved Shelly had sorted things so quickly, and he was just a little jealous of the fun in store for the kid. He looked at a waiting tower of unsigned documents on his desk. He’d blitz through that crap and celebrate with a couple girls of his own later. His cock stiffened in his trousers just thinking about it. He’d definitely need three girls, though. Two were becoming monotonous.

‘Thank you, Shelly,’ Julian shouted hearing a second knock on his slightly ajar door. ‘Just send me through an email with their names.’

A third and equally light knock followed. Julian rolled his eyes. He didn’t give a shit if Shelly had rounded up Jessica Rabbit and Betty Fucking Boop—he didn’t need details right now. But saying that out loud would more than likely hurt Shelly’s feelings and then, since she’d taken on a new comfort-zone-share-her-feelings thing since they’d stopped shagging, he’d probably have to listen to her bitching for the rest of the day.

A lack of further knocking coincided with the door opening, and Julian was a little surprised to see Nathan standing in the gap. Julian stood up and walked around to the front of his desk. Unscheduled visits generally pissed him off, especially when the visitor was a guy. Julian leaned back against his desk, stretched his lean legs out, and crossed them at the ankle. He rested, eying Nathan up, and waited for him to speak. Nathan took a couple of steps forward but stopped way too far back from Julian to have a conversation without the need to raise his voice. Julian was in no mood for a game of Cat and Mouse today.

‘Hello, Nate. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?’

Nathan cleared his throat and took a few more small steps forward. ‘It’s Nathan,’ he mumbled. ‘I was hoping we could have a quick word if you’re not too busy, of course.’

Julian shrugged casually. ‘Sure, Nat-HAN, I’m all ears.’

‘You might want to sit down,’ Nathan suggested.

Julian laughed.

‘I have a confession,’ Nathan said, looking a lot like he was the one who needed to sit down.

Julian laughed again—louder this time. ‘Like I said, you have my attention.

Julian had a good idea where Nathan was going with this, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was quite enjoying the exchange.

‘I’m a writer with the
National Informer
, Julian. I’ve been working undercover for the last six months.’

Julian clasped his hands and stretched his fingers, wiggling them back and forth. He had waited a few exaggerated moments before he smiled. ‘You may want to rethink the undercover part. I’ve known who you are for a least five of those six long months.’

Nathan pulled a face. Julian didn’t expect Nathan to believe him, but it didn’t alter the truth. In fact, he’d quite enjoyed wasting Nathan’s time. Julian’s company affairs were tighter than the virgin’s pussy he’d broken in last week. He paid the best accounts and legal team in the country to make damn sure of that. Nathan wouldn’t find shit on him. He was so squeaky clean he practically glowed in the dark.

‘And you’re coming clean now because you think you have something on me?’ Julian said.

Nathan stepped back dramatically, as if worried his face was a target for Julian’s fist. Julian had to concentrate not to laugh again; the thought hadn’t even entered his head. Well, not right now anyway. If he were going to punch Nathan, it wouldn’t be in his own office. He wasn’t going to give Nathan a juicy ‘’Boss Assaults Intern’’ headline.

‘Sort of,’ Nathan replied, still edging further away.

‘You sort of have a story. Wow, I’d say your editor must bloody love you.’

‘It’s not what you think. I’m not investigating the financial side of things. This is more a more…um…a more personal piece.’

Julian snorted. ‘I’m not sure if I’m more flattered or irritated that you’re obsessed with my life.’

‘Well, you have to admit…’ Nathan paused and Julian imagined he was searching for the right words to put it delicately. He needn’t have bothered. Nothing he could say would offend Julian.

‘…this place is off-the-scale unorthodox,’ Nathan finished.

Julian nodded. ‘I don’t do conventional. But anyone who steps inside these doors,’ Julian pointed to the double doors of his office, ‘knows the score.’

‘But what about the ones who get hurt?’

Nathan didn’t say her name but Julian’s mind immediately raced toward Eva.

‘Getting hurt is just part of being an adult. My life is sex, drink, repeat, and I make no apologies for that.’

‘And no apologies for the people you hurt?’

Julian’s eyes narrowed and his back teeth grinded. ‘None.’

A restless silence followed and Julian studied Nathan for a moment—the way he straightened his tie every twenty seconds, the twitch in this jaw, the nervous folding and unfolding of his arms. They were just scratching the surface, Julian decided. ‘C’mon, man. My choice of lifestyle is old news. It won’t sell papers. Don’t bullshit me. I know you’re fishing for something else.’

‘What makes you think I was talking about the girls who drop their knickers as soon as you snap your fingers? Messed up as that logic is, you’re right, it won’t sell papers.’

Nathan’s twitching jaw was becoming distracting. He was holding his ground well, but he wasn’t fooling Julian.

Julian glanced at his watch. His schedule for the morning was relaxed and Nathan had piqued his interest enough for him to entertain this nonsense for a little longer.

‘Drink,’ Julian said; it was a statement not a question.

Nathan nodded.

Julian leaned back a little further and pressed a button on his desk phone. ‘Shell, bring in the bottle I left in the cabinet behind your desk, will you, please?’

Julian drummed his fingers against his desk and the rhythm echoed in the oversized office as both men waited for Shelly. Julian smiled as she entered, clutching a cut glass decanter filled with a clear liquid. Julian loved Poitin, but he rarely dabbled with the stuff. A little more than two glasses was enough to knock a grown man out cold, Julian included. But if there were ever a time he longed for the fiery flavour of the truth syrup disguised as alcohol, this was it.

Julian couldn’t miss the look of disgust Shelly shot Nathan as she brushed past him and slammed the decanter against Julian’s desk with a loud thud. The force knocked the stopper off and Julian caught it just before it crashed against the floor. Shelly didn’t acknowledge the accident, and Julian simply placed the stopper on his desk carefully so it didn’t roll onto the floor and said nothing. Instead, he stared at Nathan. If the prick were messing Shelly about, Julian would beat the shit out of him. Right there in his office and fuck any headline. But not now. Right now, he needed Nathan conscious and telling him exactly what in the hell he knew.

Shelly stepped to the side and Julian didn’t ask her to leave.

‘Glasses,’ Julian said, flicking his eyes toward a shelf above his bureau.

Shelly hurried to hand Julian a couple of designer crystal tumblers. 

‘Are you a teetotaller this morning, Shell?’ Julian asked, noticeably casual considering the atmosphere in the room.

Shelly smiled and reached for a third glass. Julian splashed a little Poitin into each glass. A little less in Shelly’s and a little more in Nathan’s than in his own. He raised his arm until his glass was slightly higher than his head and waited for the others to follow suit.

‘Sláinte,’ Julian said knocking back the entire drink in one go.

‘Sláinte,’ Nathan and Shelly echoed, struggling somewhat to force the alcohol down their throats.

Shelly pulled a face, blew a raspberry, and handed her glass, still half-full, back to Julian. He laughed. Nathan finished his, albeit in a lot more than one gulp, but Julian was impressed nonetheless.

Julian poured himself another drink, switching to whiskey this time. He moved to the couch at the side of the room and waited for the others to follow. His elbows rested on his knees, with his hands clasped together. His thumbs hooked under his lowered chin and his pointed index fingers slowly ran up and down the bridge of his nose. His eyes fixed on Nathan’s every move, barely taking the time to blink. ‘All right, Nate. You have my full attention. Would you like to tell me what the fuck is going on?’

Nathan sat without Julian asking him to. The alcohol had worked to relax him, as intended.

‘Cameron Andrews has a parole hearing on Monday. And I have it on good authority that he’ll be released.’

Julian stood up. ‘Bollocks. He’s serving twenty-five years for attempted murder. He hasn’t even served half of that yet.’

Now Shelly sat. Silent.

‘I can’t get my hands on all the details. Their justice system over there is like a fucking maze. But my source tells me that he has some sort of arrangement with the FBI.’

Julian placed his drink on the coffee table in front of them. Suddenly, a clear head was very important. ‘Source?’

‘I can’t divulge who. But why do I think you already knew that?’

Julian smiled. Nathan was slowly moving up in his expectation.

‘He sold out his cellmate. Some sick drug mule who put a couple of his mates under the foundation of his dodgy nightclub, apparently.’

Julian raised his eyebrows and rubbed his wrinkled brow. ‘So, Cameron gave the cops the information they needed.’

Nathan nodded enthusiastically. Julian could see the passion for the story in Nathan’s eyes. He hadn’t managed to fool Julian completely, but he had thrown him a bit. It was as impressive as it was infuriating.

‘And what? It was just that simple?’ Julian said, still rubbing his forehead. ‘The mule just confessed over coffee and a fig roll?’