Burning Down The House // Talking Heads

My leg bounces as I wait in Clinton's office, once again hiding from Anita Brooks anticipated appearance at Siren Song shortly. I want this over with. I want to reclaim my time with Emily. I want that woman out of her life. And I hate that I'm relying on other people to get this done.

I know I can trust Clinton. I know Jacob has Emily's best interests in mind. I grudgingly acknowledge that Ryan has been an asset. Even Rachel has proved to be an ally against the woman who inexplicably seeks Emily's downfall. I should count myself lucky to have all of them on my side.

And I do.

But I wish I had control of the situation. I wish things had been happening on my timeline. And I wish I wasn't the hidden element in the entire operation.

Living where I lived, growing up the way I did, having to stay undercover triggers all my insecurities. I'm the poor kid without a dad who struggled with his family to get by. I lived in the undesirable neighborhoods because that's all I could afford. Now, even as I've found honor in my career as well as life in a better place, love I didn't know I'd experience, I still feel the sting of rejection.

Because no matter how terrible Emily's mother is, the little boy in me needed to be acceptable in her eyes. Good enough. And it tears me up inside to admit I still hold some of those wounds from my childhood.

Emily has helped heal so much even as she's had her own deep wounds.

Though, I guess that's what love is; holding the person you love with your wounded heart until their own wounds are knitted back together. That's who Emily's been for me. And I hope to God I've been as much to her. More, God willing. I want nothing more than to watch her soar past the pain of her past. To give her a future of security along with our love.

That's why I'm enduring this dark night without her. Damn, it's been a long dark month, not simply a night. But who's counting when forever is on the line?

Not me.

A knock at the door jolts my attention back to my surroundings. The latch clicks as the door slips open and Emily sneaks into the dark room. She holds my gaze as she shuts the door silently before walking over to where I sit. Wordlessly, she takes her place in my lap, arms sliding around my shoulders. When her head finally dips to rest against mine, I take the breath I've been waiting to take. The one that's laced with her hint of sea breeze and sunshine.

Home. That's what she brings to mind. Wherever she is, I'm home.

"Baby," I say as I pull her closer. "It's almost over."

She hums. "So close."

"Is she here?"

"In the conference room. Rachel said to wait three minutes then turn on the intercom so we can listen in."

"Why three minutes? Why not turn it on now?"

"It will take that long for her to set it up. Something about being the mouse taunting the cat? I don't know. She scares me."

I laugh at the grimace she makes. "She's a rottweiler in the body of a chihuahua."

"Aren't all chihuahuas like that?" Emily's flirty smirk makes my heart race. The fact that we can banter like this, playful and silly, means we're through the worst of it. We hung on and made it to the other side.

I lean in and kiss the woman who holds my heart. She doesn't hesitate to tilt her head and kiss me back. What I want to do is lay her out across Clinton's desk and show her how much I've missed her. Peel her out of the yoga pants and ratty shirt she has on, the same pairing she wore the first day we were together in this building. Then, I had no idea what message she was sending to the world. That her behavior was as much a costume as her clothing had been. And here my girl is donning it once again as a ruse to her controlling, demeaning, nightmare of a mother that she was still under the woman's thumb.

Something that couldn't be further from the truth. My woman will never be controlled again. Not by me, not by anyone. And I'm honored to be standing by her side as she takes back that control.

But I hold myself back from showing her how much I missed her, how much I want her. Instead, I pull away with a wry grin.

"I think our three minutes are up. But hold onto those thoughts for later."

"Which thoughts?" She smirks.

"Oh, you know which thoughts." I lean in again, taking the delicate skin at her neck between my teeth and sucking gently. "The dirty thoughts running through both of our minds. I'll be bringing those thoughts to life soon enough."

"Promise?" she whispers.

"On my life."

She hugs me fiercely. Reluctantly, we both lean back in order to flip the intercom on after making sure the volume is low. We don't want anyone surreptitiously discovering the two of us locked away in here.

At first it's silent. So silent, the two of us share a confused look. I check the power to confirm we've turned it on–we have–then wait to hear some indication that Clinton and Anita are still in the conference room and not somewhere else.

"You can't be serious."

We hear the vicious thread of sound emanating from Anita through the intercom at last. Clinton must have already presented his offer of blackmail.

"I think we missed it."

"Keep listening." Emily urges.

"You must know I am dead serious, Ms. Banks. Utterly and completely serious. I have enough evidence to make these allegations among others that are equally heinous in nature."

"How dare you–"

"No, how dare you." Clinton interrupts what was most likely going to unravel into an unhinged rant based on the vibration in her voice. His voice, on the other hand, is calm and controlled. "The actions you suggested for Mr. Christiansen to engage in border on physical assault, considering his intimate partner wouldn't have informed consent."

"Conjecture. His interpretation of our conversation is outlandish." Her dismissive tone still holds a thread of fear. Clinton's calm accusations are getting to her.

"Not his. Mine. I've heard the audio and seen the recordings. Your body language, your tone, your insinuations...those would be hard for a jury to misinterpret."

"Recordings." She scoffs the word. "Even if such a thing exists, you must know nothing would be admissible in court. And if these so-called recordings ended up being leaked to the press, something I know you are too smart to resort to, any PR team worth their salt could take them down and twist the narrative. We've seen it done countless times before."

"Oh, they exist. And California is a one party state. Meaning that if one of the people being recorded has consented, the evidence has been legally obtained." Clinton pauses, the weight of his silence bleeding through the intercom. "These recordings are 100 percent admissible."

"So, Ryan was in on this, was he? I should have known."

"Does it matter? Even if he wasn't, how could you put your own daughter in such a position?"

"Do you have children, Mr. Wilson?"

"Yes, I have a daughter, and another one on the way. Which is what makes your actions even more unfathomable to me."

Anita's scoff reverberates through the speaker, ricocheting  against the office walls.

"You must not have a daughter who's thrown public tantrums. Who's tossed your reputation around to her detriment and yours. She must not have tainted your hard earned reputation by parading through town with every undesirable male seeking to ride your coattails to fame. And I'm sure she hasn't slid to such base behavior that the outcome would ruin you completely. Believe me, if she had, your perspective on my actions would be quite different."

The scrape of chair legs against the floor rings through the speaker followed by heavy footsteps and the creak of hinges of the door.

"My position is what it is because I am a father. I know what it means to love my child. I understand the sacrifices a parent makes to give their child the best life possible in all ways. I've already lived that out and continue to do so by putting my child before myself on a daily basis."

Another pause ensues before Clinton continues his take down.

"You will cease contact. You will remove yourself from all documentation, including contracts and management roles. You will sign the beach house lease over to your daughter. And you will remain silent regarding anything related to Emily Montano, the actress, the woman, the romantic partner, the award winner, the adult or the brand. Not a word, other than no comment, henceforth and in the future. If you do not comply at any point in the future, I still have possession of the recording masters as well as several copies held in secure locations."

"You realize what you're doing is illegal, do you not?"

"What's a little blackmail among friends. What's good for the goose, and all that?"

No more words are spoken. The sound of heels on tile comes through the speakers until said heels must have reached the carpeted hallway. Brianna designed the conference room with hard surfaces for the acoustics during presentations, according to Zack. I was glad for it today considering the added noise gave Emily and I a heads up for her mother's impending departure.

"Stay quiet until Clinton or Rachel give the all clear."

Emily nods.

Minutes go by as Emily remains on my lap, the two of us waiting in silent tension. From what we heard, Anita appeared to acquiesce to Clinton's demands. But we won't know for sure until he confirms it. And then there's the matter of Anita actually following through and removing herself from Emily's life.

I have a feeling we'll be holding our breath on that for a while.

A knock sounds seconds before the door swings open.

"She's gone," Clinton says, standing on the other side of the threshold with a dark look. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that, but knowing what she and I discussed was vital."

He looks at Emily, regret mixed with determination written all over his face.

"I agree," Emily says, sliding off my lap and coming to a stand. "Nothing she said was a shock. I've heard worse from her."

Clinton sucks in a deep breath, looking away from us and down the dark hallway before he says more. I rise and come to stand with Emily. Always with Emily, no matter what we're facing.

"Time will tell if she's on us. And I think the first test will be her reaction to the two of you seen publicly. I'll brainstorm with Char the best place for you two to go on your first date."

"Wait...what?" I say. Since when is Clinton planning my date with Emily? "What about Ryan?" I cringe when I ask because hell no, I don't care about his public image. But I do care about Emily's and being seen with Ryan so soon before the two of us make some sort of public launch will look terrible.

"Ryan's just a friend. He's being interviewed by Star Tracker tonight to say so. He's a touchy feely guy, which is how he'll explain the kiss before giving the reporter the exact same kiss he gave you."

"Which reporter?" Emily asks, sounding amused. I, on the other hand, am feeling a panic attack rising.

"The same guy who gave their former drummer a platform to verbally attack them and Char."

I shake my head at this revelation. Ryan hates his former drummer for the way he trashed not only the band, but Char, in ways none of us were prepared for. That's been in the past for so long, I hardly think of it. But if Ryan is planning to lay one on the guy–the kind of guy who will not take it well–he must still be holding a grudge.

Fine by me if it takes the pressure off Emily.

"I can't believe he'd do that for me," she says.

"Baby, everyone who knows you, really and truly knows you, would do more than kiss a gossip mag blow hard."

"And what would you do, Mr. Bodyguard?" she asks, turning to draw me closer with her hands around my neck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clinton slip out of the doorway. I hear the snick of the lock as he shuts it behind him. Then I press my lips to her cheek, nibble the soft skin at the base of her ear and whisper my deepest desires.

"I'd lay you out on this desk and show you how much I've missed you. How desperately I want you. I'd peel these layers away and kiss every inch of you. I'd press my mouth to your most intimate parts until I felt you shatter beneath me."

Her skin shivers under my mouth, not nearly as strongly as I need it to. In time. I'll get her there soon enough.

Maybe in the limo ride on our date. Because I already know exactly where we're going.

"What else?" she whispers with a shudder.

"You know exactly what else." I lift my head, looking her in the eyes. "I'd burn the world for you."

Her eyes sober, her body stills. I worry that Emily doesn't like how far I'd go for her, until she speaks and I recognize her stillness as contentment.

"You already have."

Y'all, 2 chapters left!! The next one will detail their first public date, and then the epilogue!! I can't believe we're at this point where we'll be saying THE END so soon.

And very soon, we'll be diving into Marisol's story!! I'm working on character traits and backstory which always makes the story better. I can't wait to dive back into the Blue Bloods world (and there may possibly be another book in the future for Oscar). If you haven't read Inevitable, DO IT!!

Burning down the house seemed appropriate.

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I have so many exciting surprises planned for the Inevitable launch in Kindle Unlimited. Just call me Taylor...