Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(149)
“Oh now this is fucking perfect now isn’t it?” His face is contorted as he shakes his head, wagging his finger at me like I’m some misbehaving child; “First you go off script, and then you’re back here slumming it with this piece of trash! You’re going to ruin this whole thing for me, Reagan!”
I narrow my eyes at him; “For you, Donald? I’m sorry, remind me who’s campaign-”
“Oh, save it, honey. Do you know how many hands of trust fund brats I’ve held through first round elections? You think you’re special just because you’re playing kissy-face with this washout?” Hudson’s face goes dark, but Donald barrels right along; “I set things up with Chet, who tests very well with our voter base, and you’re going to ruin that with this schmuck! Jesus Christ, Reagan, why can’t you just follow the plans I fucking tell you to follow?!”
“Maybe because you work for her, and maybe because your plans suck, that’s why.” Hudson growls, taking a step towards him.
Donald fumes as he whirls on Hudson; “You stay the hell out of this! I don’t need one of William Archer’s stupid little fucking pet projects stepping on my toes here. He should have left you in whatever third world pocket he found you in and let you rot; hell, he should have stayed there himself.”
I can feel the rage explode out of me; “You do not talk about him OR my father like that, asshole!”
Donald whirls on me, his face red and puffing as he shoves a piece of paper into my hands; “We’re going to fix this right now. Read this when you go out there, and say only this. I swear to God, you are not going to ruin this for me you spoiled little bitch!”
Hudson’s fist is already drawn back when he steps forward, but before he even gets close, I slap Donald hard across the face.
He gasps and sputters, holding the red mark on his cheek and gaping at me; “Oh, now you’re going to regret that! I’m calling my attorney!”
“Be my guest,” I spit out; “Oh and, Donald, I think it might go without saying, but you’re fired.”
He sneers at me; “Read my contract, babe; you can’t fire me mid-run.”
Fuck.
Hudson does step forward then, right in Donald’s face, and he glowering down on the smaller man; “And if the campaign can’t pay you?”
“Excuse me?” Donald huffs, taking a wary step back from Hudson.
“I said what if they can’t pay you. If the campaign goes broke, are you prepared to work for free?”
He sputters; “What? No, of course not! It’s ridiculous to think that I’d be willing to stick around this spoiled little brat without-”
“Excellent.” Hudson nods curtly, cutting him off. He takes his cell phone out and begins to type something before he turns to me. “Ms. Archer?” He winks at me with a big shit-eating grin on his face; “Romantic fraternization between political and private enterprise is unfortunately grounds for contractual liquidation under your agreement with our company.” His back is to Donald, and only I can see as he winks again and sticks his tongue out at me; “So, on behalf of Archer Holdings, I regret to inform you that we’ll be revoking your campaign funding, effective immediately.” He turns back to Donald; “I’d recommend not cashing your check this week; it’s going to bounce.”
Donald’s face goes a bright shade of crimson, and he opens his mouth as if to say something though words seem to fail him in that moment. He sputters something unintelligible out his piggy mouth before he whirls around and stomps out of the room.
29
Hudson
P R E S E N T
“You know as soon as he quits, I’m making sure the funds hit your campaign again, right?”
Reagan’s cheeks are flushed when she looks up at me; “Holy shit, I mean; wow.” She laughs nervously and then with more feeling, like she’s just shrugged a weight off her shoulders; “I should not have done that. I mean I really should not have done that! He’s probably going to try and sue you know.”
I grin; “I’m willing to bet he doesn’t know that quitting before his contract finishes voids it entirely, so fuck him; I’ll have your father’s lawyers eat him alive.”
She’s staring at me with stars in her eyes and her whole face smiling, and I can’t help but smile right back; that’s just the effect she has on me; “Hudson, I l-”
The door bursts open and a harried and winded looking campaign intern with a clipboard barges into the room; “Ms. Archer! You need to follow me right now; you’re on stage in three minutes!”