Zander
nineteen
Ipunch in Harlowe’s number, my fingers drumming on my desk as I wait for it to connect. Instead, it goes straight to voicemail.
“You have reached me. If you know, you know, so do the thing.” Her voicemail message brings a slight grin to my face with the absurdity of it, but the raspy voice is unmistakable.
“Lowe, it’s me. I need to talk to you.” I pause and glance around the pristine interior of my office, forming some kind of plan or message, or something that can give me direction. “Just call me.” I rattle off my personal number and end the call, feeling stupid and out of my element. I hate this.
“Fuck,” I breathe, dragging a hand across my face.
Why couldn't she have just picked up so I could ask her right then if he's my kid or not?
“Fuck!” I say with more intensity. I don't want to feel helpless, waiting on some woman to change my life forever or put me out of this wretched misery of not knowing for sure. If Payton’s right and I can use this to save the Olympus image, I'll need to reestablish control and direct this how I want it to go.
I pull up Instagram to see if she’s been active on socials, even if her phone is going straight to voicemail, and see her latest thirst trap that feels set just for me.
Fucking noodles again. Her caramel skin is more on display than usual, her midriff showing above high-rise leggings along with one bare shoulder that her cropped shirt is falling off of.
She makes a face I know only too well as she hollows out her cheeks, slurping up noodles from chopsticks held above a wok.
It takes me straight back to when she sucked my cock just like that, taking me down her throat, making me come faster than I wanted, sending bolts of lightning up and down my spine.
The dirty caption that must be meant for me?
Something about fucking slurping. I can hear her sounds.
I exit the app like it’s on fire, throwing my phone on the desk and bending at the waist, pushing my now pulsing, rock-hard cock down and groaning at the friction of even that motion because I can’t fucking do anything about it here at work.
“Goddammit!” I roar to my empty office.
I’m still pacing angrily around my office half an hour later when Weiss knocks softly and cracks the door.
“I just wanted to remind you of your lunch meeting in fifteen minutes. The Henderson project is on the docket, as is the restructuring of Milagro Inc. It’s just you with Javier and the directors leading the teams. Hayes and Payton won’t be in attendance.”
Finally. I could use the familiarity of doing what I do best to take my mind off of Harlowe.
Milagro is being incorporated into our mining operations and will need top-down restructuring, something I can do in my sleep, so it’s just the project I need to refocus on what is important.
If I’m not pushing the constant growth of Olympus, I’m at risk of being outpaced, outmatched, and outplayed by some other company looking to exploit any weakness they can find with us.
“You have the files for me to review?”
Weiss rolls her eyes and hands me a stack of folders. “You doubt my efficiency one more time and I’m calling in sick. I’ll let you deal with an admin from the pool downstairs for a day and you’ll be groveling at my feet to come back and make everything run smoothly again,” she says dryly.
“Have I given you a raise lately? You deserve it,” I tell her, knowing she’s probably already scheduled the meeting herself with HR and accounting for her annual raise. She doesn’t deem me fit for an answer as she leaves my office. This is one woman I need on my team and by my side in business.
My gut twists and a phantom thought escapes my locked vault, telling me there is another who may prove to be an even better asset, and possibly partner. If I can just convince her to answer me.
The meeting with Milagro Inc. went exactly how it should have, but finding Payton waiting for me in my office when I finish has the black clouds sailing right back into my clearing skies.
“What?” I ask, sliding into my chair and pulling a folder toward me to rifle through the contents.
“Any news on the daddy front?” he asks. “It’s been a week, and all I’ve seen are gossip blogs hounding Harlowe and making assumptions about her kid’s parentage. I thought you were going to do the right thing. Man up and take responsibility.”
“I’ve been a little busy here, running our multi-billion dollar international company, dealing with the continued fall out of our stocks and image hitting rock bottom, and leading our constant expansion,” I say, lack of patience clipping my tone.
Payton throws his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes.
“Oh, the big CEO is so busy,” he mocks. “You have a fucking kid. I don’t care if you just found out, it’s time you owned it.
At the very least be certain. Get Harlowe to admit it or get a paternity test. But you need to make that connection now before the media speculation gets worse. ”
My frustrations boils over and I stand, leaning onto my desk and leveling Payton with a fuck off and die stare.
“How would you feel if you were a model I’d fucked and sent on her merry way while I cut off all contact and made it impossible for her to tell me she was pregnant?
Would you be happy to hear from me, now? ”
Payton shudders. “Gross. Please don’t ever make me consider what it would be like to fuck you.”
“Grow up, you know what I mean,” I say, scrubbing my hands down my face and resettling into my chair. “She hates me. There’s no way she’s letting me in now.” From her refusal to take my calls and the glacial response I’ve received in person, it doesn't look like I’ll have an in anytime soon.
“I hear you, even if I don’t like what you’re saying.” Payton sighs and leans back in his chair. “We can have the legal department handle this quickly and efficiently, if you want. They can force a paternity test, and you can sue for parental rights. It wouldn’t be pretty, but you’d get in.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do. Fuck, man. I don’t want to force Harlowe to do anything, especially not sue her for rights to her kid. If she doesn’t want me in the kid’s life, that’s her choice.”
Payton tilts his head and stares at me like I’ve just sprouted tentacles. “Did you just say something entirely too human and, for once, not egocentric?”
I contemplate throwing my Mont Blanc pen at him, but I like it too much.
“I’m trying to reach out. I’ve left her messages,” I admit instead.
“Let me do this my way before you get lawsuit happy. You of all people should want to avoid a domestic legal battle that would just be more bad press for Olympus.”
“For once, I’m not thinking about Olympus here. I just want you to do what’s right and honorable, no matter what it costs us.”
“I think hell just iced over,” I say, staring in shock at Payton, who has always put the company image, the bottom line, and what we’re capable of ahead of everything else. “This day is too fucking weird. Get out of my office so I can finish up for the day without you wreaking more havoc.”
“Use the patented Zander charm to win her over. You’ve had no trouble getting a woman to fall for you in the past. Why wouldn’t it work now?”
“Maybe because she saw what that got her the first time around,” I quip, returning to my stack of paperwork. I may jest, but the comment is far too real, and I’d rather not dig into that too deeply.
“Just do whatever you have to in order to get on a united front with her. Having gossip sites hyperbolizing about a potential relationship you once had, or coming up with possible reasons Harlowe has kept the kid from you all these years, doesn’t look good.
It’ll get uglier the longer you wait. At the very least, fake it and play up a happy co-parenting rhetoric that will get the speculation off what is really happening.
” Payton stands and walks to my office door.
“And don’t wait. Turn the narrative now or you’ll never wrestle it back.
” He pats the doorframe as he leaves and I’m left with his parting words and a hazy plan taking shape.
My mind is too far gone down the Harlowe rabbit hole to be of any use at work, so when the clock has inched closer to a decent quitting time, I’m already headed down the elevator to the garage.
I slide into my car and palm my phone like I may have missed a call from Harlowe in the time it took me to get down here.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, starting the drive to her house, hoping she’ll be home mid-afternoon and not out doing who knows what. It's important enough to have this conversation in person, and I want to have it now, so that’s what I’m going to do.
I’ve been thinking of ways to get Harlowe to see my side, treating the situation like any other business acquisition.
I’m looking for the cracks in my opponent’s armor to use as handholds while I scale their defenses and present a perfectly planned solution just when they need it the most. I can go in, guns blazing, demanding that I meet the child I somehow fucked into existence, yet had no idea was a walking, talking little person until just a month ago.
I can appeal to her need for stability and promise her the boy will have the best of everything, college paid for, a trust in his name, and maybe even financial security for her.