Nights With Him(106)
Davis shook his head in frustration. “I mean it. If this is on you, you better make things right. As right as you possibly can.”
“I have a sister too. I would do the same, and say the same if I were in your position. Michelle means the world to me, and I’ll do everything for her.”
Davis gave a curt nod, then turned on his heels.
Jack took off for downtown, hailing a cab, and arriving at Bradshaw’s building fifteen minutes later. He buzzed 2C, then waited, muttering c’mon under his breath.
“Hello?” It was a man’s voice, and Jack was ready to strangle him, so he called upon some extra stores of his best friend—restraint.
“It’s Just Jack. I believe you wanted to talk about backing off. I’m on your steps.”
“I’ll be right down.”
Jack leaned against the railing of the stoop, watching through the glass panels of the brown front door. Soon, he saw a man descend the stairs, then reach the ground level. He looked exactly as Michelle described. Standard businessman. Gray slacks, button-down shirt, loosened tie. He had dark hair and dark glasses.
He opened the first set of doors, then the second, stepping out onto the stoop.
Jack dug his nails into his palms to refrain from pummeling him, from grabbing this bastard by the throat and shaking the goddamn life out of him. That would do no good.
Instead, he took a different approach. He extended his hand. “Clark Davidson, right?” he asked, and Nick smirked. Jack continued. “Market researcher, I understand?”
Nick smiled wickedly in response. “I see she’s been revealing patient-client confidentiality,” he said, tsk, tsking under his breath.
Jack fumed. “Don’t even go there,” he said in a hiss.
Nick pretended to bug out his eyes. “Why?” he asked in fake shock. “What are you going to do to me?” Nick’s eyes traveled to Jack’s clenched hands. “You gonna hit me, Soldier-Turned-Sex-Toy-Mogul? Why don’t you try? Why don’t you see how I spin that?”
Smoke billowed from Jack’s ears. He gritted his teeth.
“Keep it all inside,” Nick continued, taunting. “Because they don’t call me the Spin Doctor for nothing. You touch me, and I will find a way to make everyone hate you too.” Nick laughed, revealing perfect white teeth. “Or maybe, take your chances. Take a punch at me. I turned your girlfriend into garbage. You think I won’t find a way to pulverize you?”
Rage coursed through Jack’s veins and he grabbed the man by the shirt collar. “You can’t touch me. I run a fucking sex toy company. I sell dildos for a living. There is nothing you can do to me. My reputation doesn’t matter.”
“I know,” Nick said with an evil glint in his dark eyes. “You’re the fucking Teflon man, Jack. The press loves you. They love the grieving widower story. They love that you run a business with your sister. You’re impenetrable. No one gives a shit if you like it dirty. No one cares if you fuck a woman on the Met Life Tower. Same way with Henry. He runs BDSM clubs with his wife, who’s a cancer survivor. I can’t touch her. But you,” Nick said, poking Jack’s chest, and he was ready to throttle the man. He’d started this war by going after Henry’s business solely to knock down his brother-in-law. He’d already hit below the belt. Now he was firing bullets, by throwing around all the private times he’d learned about from their emails, “you gave us the perfect target.”
The anger burned Jack’s throat. He gripped Nick’s collar harder. “I gave you nothing.”
Nick cackled and shook his head. “You’re wrong. You gave us everything we needed to take down our opponent. Because you started screwing a shrink. An intimate relationship psychologist, at that. I couldn’t have planned it better. It was like taking candy from a baby. It was my easiest job ever. Because she takes herself so goddamn seriously. She’s so perfectly above board. She does nothing wrong. Never a professional misstep, until you. We already got to Denkler through his sister. The easiest way to take him all the way down was through you. And now you’re going to stop, aren’t you?”
“Stop what?”
“Oh, I suspect when you leave my doorstep in twenty seconds, you will go to Denkler’s and tell him to resign from the race. Or I will happily share all those emails and texts. My God, the things the two of you did.” Nick said, recoiling, as if he were disgusted with Jack. “She’s dirty. She likes it dirty, doesn’t she?”
The rage spread like wildfire in Jack’s blood. He twisted Nick’s collar, pushing the man who once called himself Clark against the railing of his stoop.