(un) Broken Page 2

  “Mia, I’m going to have to call you back… And I don’t think I won’t be wanting an answer when I do.” I hang up without waiting for a response.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so… human, Ellie. Have you finally decided to drop the screeching, homeless harpy look?” His eyes roam over my face before resting on my eyes. “You look like you’ve finally gotten a good night’s sleep.”

  Clearly, when God made Garrett, he went in a little heavy on the asshole. Too bad he couldn’t keep his mouth shut; such a waste.

  “Why, Garrett, I can’t believe you noticed. And here I thought you only wanted me for my sparkling personality. You dirty dog, you,” I swat his arm lightly, bat my lashes, then let my smile drop and find a space on the wall to stare at.

  When I first moved into this building, I was alone, and I liked it. I barely remember those first few months. It took everything in me just to roll out of bed, shower, and eat. It wasn’t until Mia and Katie brought home Georgie the Corgi that I started to live again. That was also when I first met Garrett.

  Georgie and I had just come back from exploring the park across the road and were waiting harmlessly for the elevator when I was enveloped in a musky cloud of cinnamon and spice. Just smelling him sparked something inside me, causing my skin to tingle and my nerve endings to spark like live wires.

  Garrett had just come back from what appeared to be an intense workout. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, illuminating his bronzed skin and defining his muscles. It was the first time I’d felt a spark of desire since Michael. But in my defense, he was like my kryptonite. Suave, smelled like a wet drink, and thick all over.

  Georgie thought he was amazing too. So amazing, that he excitedly peed on Garrett’s Nike shoes as he begged for affection. To be fair, I probably would have done the same thing if I were him. In normal circumstances, I would have died from embarrassment. But seeing those baby blue eyes turn to steel as they glared at Georgie and then the warm pee on his leg scared me.

  So I did what any sane, rational thinking dog mom would do; I snatched Georgie away from Garrett and growled at him. Not my finest moment, but I’d spent more time with Georgie than people, so I just ran with it. I don’t know whether he was shocked or scared—I’m going with scared—but he continued to glare at me as I retreated into the elevator, hitting the ‘close’ button before he could step in.

  I realize now I probably could have handled the whole thing with pleasant words and apologies. But I’m a dog mom, and no one can glare at my baby beside me.

  In hindsight, I should thank Garrett for being such an asshole. That anger began to disintegrate the walls I’d put up, and I started to feel more and more like my old self. I honestly didn’t mean to start a feud with him, but there’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way. One minute I want to growl at him and tear his face off, and the next I want to kiss his face off. It’s kind of disconcerting.

  Our feud may have started out simply enough; closing the door before the other could enter the elevator, or throwing disgusted glares at each other. But it wasn’t until his epic ‘sexcapades’ woke me up four nights in a row that things escalated to epic proportions. I’d like to say I handled it like a mature adult, but that would be a lie.

  Turns out, our building’s security team doesn’t take well to noise complaints; especially from a sobbing, hysterical woman. I’m going to hell. Having a man like Garrett glare daggers through your body, while you’re pretending to be an innocent and concerned resident, is oddly hot and satisfying.

  After four years you’d think our shenanigans would grow old, but every time I see his gorgeous, smirking face, I snap. Something snarky and rebellious comes out of me, wanting to both snarl at him and kiss him senseless.

  The elevator chimes as the doors open at our floor, pulling me from my thoughts. Stepping over my bags, he shuffles out, leaving me in a frantic mess as the doors begin to close. I scoop them into my arms and waddle to my front door with my handbag between my legs.

  “You know, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to at least offer to help, Garrett.” Huffing, I drop the bags outside of my door while I search for my keys.

  “Ellie, I hate to break it to you, but you’re beyond help,” he shrugs. Leaning against his door, he watches me. “And besides, if I had offered to help, you would’ve snapped at me like that little beast you call a dog.” Pushing off the wall, he opens his door in a single, practiced move and strides to his apartment.

  “Asshole…” I mutter.

  “I heard that,” came Garrett’s muffled shout.

  Pursing my lips, I throw open my front door and drop the bags in the entryway. It swings closed behind me just as a barking ball of caramel fluff rounds the corner and charges down the hallway. I beam and catch him in my arms in our usual routine—whether I’ve been gone ten hours or ten minutes, it’s always the same. “Who’s my good boy? Were you waiting for me, buddy?” Hugging Georgie to my chest, I plant kisses across his face as he licks mine.

  Cooing all the way to the kitchen, I scratch his belly before plopping him onto the floor and pulling out one of his home-cooked dinners from the fridge to heat up. Some may call it excessive, but I’m only looking out for my little buddy’s welfare. Who’d have thought so many brands of commercial dog food are bad for the mutts? So, he gets home-cooked meals, and I eat takeout—win-win.

  After grabbing a bottle of Semillon Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge and a wine glass, I kick off the death traps most call heels and curl up on my couch, my gaze drifting to the glass doors and the beautiful evening sky beyond. One of the main reasons I purchased this condo was for the view. As soon as I walked through the front door, I knew I had to live here. Whenever my eyes would drift over the view before me, I’d remember the world was still beautiful, I just had to allow myself to appreciate it. No matter the anxiety or dread it could cause.

  As soon as I moved in, I purchased furniture and appliances in every clashing color. My cups and plates were mismatched, my walls were covered in watercolor paintings, and I filled the living room with the most luxurious L-shaped couch I could find, strategically positioning it to offer an unobstructed view of the city. I wanted my home to be everything my old life wasn’t; bright, cheerful, comforting, and safe.

  Popping open the bottle of wine, I pour myself a generous glass, sighing in content at my first sip. But then the soft hum of Garrett’s television interrupts the peace and I groan. Stupid drywall. That was the only downside. My and Garrett’s apartments used to be a single unit until they split it in two. Too bad they used the thinnest wall known to man to do the job.

  Grabbing my phone, I dial Katie and wait for the call to connect with my eyes fixed on the skyline before me.

  “Hey! I’m so glad you called. Mia said you were in on the plan, and she mentioned something about a sphinx cat? I don’t remember seeing a cat on the list, but I mean, if that’s what you want, we’ll get you one—”

  I sputter wine across the floor, my high-pitched laughter scaring Georgie from his post-dinner nap.

  “But will Georgie want to be friends with it?” she continues. “Why are you laughing?”

  Still giggling, I wipe wine from around my mouth. “I’m not getting a cat. I was talking about my vagina… hairless, bald… you know.”

  “Oh… Oh my God.” Katie’s laugh rings through the speaker as I pat the wine away from my chest and the sofa cushions.

  I sigh, shaking my head with a smirk. “Besides that, I just wanted to make sure you haven’t started on the cover for my latest manuscript—It sucks.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No!” Katie’s response is a little too high-pitched and wavers in the middle, which makes me frown.

  “You sound really convinced…”

  Katie tutted. “No, really. I agree with Mia. You’ve written a great book, Ellie, but it needs more swoon, more panty-melting action.”

 
Sighing, I fall against the back of the couch and my eyes drift to my laptop. “Yeah, you’re right… It’s a little dry.”

  “A little? Girl, the Sahara Desert’s got nothing on your manuscript.” I raise my eyebrow at the New York skyline and remain silent. Katie laughs. “Once you figure out your character’s love lives, it’ll be great.”

  “Speaking of…” I say, pulling my laptop toward me with a grunt. “I better get started before Mia bans me from watching TV altogether. Hey, have you ever seen Pompeii?”

  “Bye Ellie…” I could hear the smirk in Katie’s tone. No doubt Mia had let that part slip too. “Love you,” she added.

  I rolled my eyes. “Love you too.”

  Hanging up, I toss the phone onto the far end of the couch—no more distractions—and pin my eyes on my laptop screen. By my feet, Georgie flips over onto his stomach, watching me with sleepy eyes. I smile at him fondly. “Well, buddy. This book isn’t going to re-write itself. Think we’re going to need more wine?” He blinks once and I nod my head in return. “You’re right—more wine it is.”

  After pouring myself a fresh glass, I pull my laptop back onto my lap, open up my manuscript and pull out Mia’s graffitied copy, tattered at the edges after being stuffed in my handbag. The red perversions on every page glare at me, and I glare back. This better be worth it.

  2

  Garrett

  “Sir, here at the reports you asked for.” Stacey, my assistant, shifts nervously on her feet as she hands over the sales report for the last quarter.

  “Has the team gathered in the meeting room?” The roughness of my question causes her to frown. She nods.

  “Yes, sir. The marketing, R&D, and sales teams are waiting for you now. Ryan should be arriving soon too.”

  The gentle throbbing behind my eyes intensifies at the prospect of this meeting. For five years, Carnal Creations has been my—and Ryan’s—brainchild. Sleeping our way through women at college and during our time home from deployment, we learned a thing or two about sex—and pleasure: Women want it, and men don’t always know how to give it.

  Using our experience, connections, and a good dose of luck, we built Carnal Creations into the largest online adult sex store in the United States, catering to the needs of men and women and all those in-between. Business was booming.

  Or it had been, anyway.

  My eyes skim the figures on my reports, my stomach curdling at the numbers. In the last year, we expanded our interests by providing custom made equipment for members of the BDSM community, partnered with a lingerie company to create lingerie sets, and collaborated with a renowned chocolatier to create edible body sauces, paints, oils, and sprays.

  The problem? People are hesitant to try something new, regardless of how amazing the products are. That’s the nature of pushing people outside their comfort zone; they will always be cautious. But it’s that caution that’s costing us.

  Moving my head from side to side, I crack my neck, the sound popping in my ears. Why does everything ache when you sit at a desk all day? Rolling my shoulders, the tension melts away and sweet relief floods through my body—but I know it won’t last. I need a massage… Maybe I should give Ellie a call.

  Chuckling, I gather up the files from my desk, earning a questioning glance from Stacey. The day that feisty, little redhead decides to give me a massage will be the day the sun shines in hell.

  “Let’s get this meeting over and done with.” Rising from my chair, I stride out of my office with adrenaline rushing through my veins and my assistant dogging my heels.

  Entering the room, the three department heads stop their conversation, their passing laughter dying with it. Their eyes track my movements as I make my way to the front, taking my seat at the head of the table.

  Don’t be a dick, Garrett. “I hope you all have some suggestions on how we can fix our sales problems, or we’re screwed.”

  Dropping the folder onto the desk, I motion for Stacey to hand out the same reports. “The purpose of these new projects was to bring in more customers. What happened, Dale?” My eyes narrow on the Research and Development director. His face pales.

  I tug at the cuffs of my long-sleeved shirt and roll them up to my elbows as my eyes narrow on the aforementioned products displayed like trophies on the conference room table. “We’ve spent months A/B testing and trialing strategies, and nothing has worked. We need something to draw our consumers to these products like a horny moth to a flame, and we need to do it fast. Otherwise, we’re fucked. And not in a good way.”

  Taking out his handkerchief, Dale dabs at the sweat on his forehead before folding it with shaking hands. “Well, all the indicators suggested these were profitable avenues, but we haven’t explored them long enough to see… major profits.”

  I purse my lips. “What do you suggest we do, Mark?”

  Not expecting to be called on, Mark’s eyes widen, his mouth flapping open and closed, his expression mirrored by the other heads at the table.

  “Has anyone come up with ideas or have you all been wasting my goddamn time and money?” I observe the ‘brains’ of the company as they flail about, babbling and stumbling over their excuses for not being prepared. Sighing, I massage my eyebrows, the tension behind them growing with each silent second. Shit. This is worse than I thought.

  “Why the long face, asshole?” Ryan Mercer strides into the room, his presence almost suffocating.

  As an ex-linebacker in college and a member of my former unit, the six-foot giant is built like a tank. He isn’t conventionally charming, what with how many times he’d broken his nose during games. But some might say his scruffy, devil-may-care attitude makes up for it.

  I toss him a report as he takes a seat beside me. “If we don’t start making more sales in these areas, we’ll be fucked in about a year. Our new avenues aren’t returning the projected amounts, and we need to do something before we completely plateau and our profits drop.”

  “Too bad we can’t do video reviews; that would definitely entice people into buying from our new lines.” Ryan laughs, not even bothering to pick up the folder as he leans back in his chair, a smug smirk on his face.

  And this is why I will either be bald or gray before I turn thirty-five. “Now that we’ve heard from the comedic support, do we have any other options that don’t involve us producing or having to view amateur porn?” Ryan laughs, flipping me the bird as we turn to the department heads.

  “Actually, Ryan may be onto something,” Dale says, shifting nervously in his seat as he looks between us. “People will be more likely to try a product if someone does a video review.” Mark snickers at Dale’s response, earning him a hard glare from me.

  “The whole purpose of our business is to make people comfortable. We provide anonymity for a reason. Sex is still considered ‘taboo’. We provide a way for people to experience pleasure without society’s judgment. We will not be asking our customers to do video reviews—fucking ever. We’re not a damn porn site.” I glare at Dale and Mark, who visibly shrink in their seats.

  “Carter, you’ve been fairly quiet. Do you have any suggestions?” Carter, our Head of Sales, glances at Dale and Mark before turning back to me.

  “I’m going to have to agree with Dale and Mark on this one, Garrett. Video reviews are the best way to entice someone to buy a product.”

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. My face tightens as I send Carter a withering glare. He puts up his hands up, and I lean back in my chair, biting my tongue nearly clean off as I wait for him to continue.

  “But there is another option; word of mouth,” he says simply.

  “What do you mean?”

  Carter leans forward, his eyes lighting up. “Think about it. We always ask our friends or people we know for recommendations, right? What if we could get recordings straight from our customer’s mouths? They’d still be able to remain anonymous, and we’d get more authentic reviews. Plus, we could incentivize them to do these recordings with a gift, or a
coupon.” He waves his hands as he speaks and the others nod their heads in apparent agreement.

  Leaning back in my chair again, I glance over to Ryan who gives me a subtle nod. We may not agree on much nowadays, but this business means everything to us.

  But would it be enough? My eyes move to the products resting on the table, the sight of them reinforcing my decision.

  “Fine. We’ll do a trial run on a few of our latest products and see what the response is like. If it does well, we’ll apply the framework to all of our products.”

  The men burst out in chatter, excitement heavy in their voices. What the hell are we going to call it? Scratching my jaw, my eyes roam over the advertisements lining the walls.

  Pussy Tales? No… too cliché.

  Bare Backed? That sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen.

  Rapping my knuckles on the table, I draw everyone’s attention back to me. “I want you all to spend the day brainstorming name ideas for this new segment, and I want a list of suggestions by the end of the day. The sooner we can get this up and running, the better.”

  As the men chatter amongst themselves, I groan as I overhear, “Pussy Proverbs.”

  “Please, for the love of God, choose names that won’t remind customers of sleazy old men and eighty-year-old dicks. We actually want people to listen to and upload reviews, not be dried out at the first hurdle. If I read suggestions like Beaver Bibles, Titty Tales, or Orgasm Oracles, they will be rejected, and you will be fired.”

  The men grow silent, their faces morphing from shock to unease as they scurry from the room, leaving me alone with Ryan.

  “So, you decided to grace us with your presence, huh? To what do we owe you for this great pleasure?”

  Ryan chuckles as he shrugs. “You’re still blunt and dry as ever, Garrett. You should do something about that before Karen from HR comes and chews your ass for joking about firing everyone—again.”