Page 33 of Jerk

“Hannah, we have other interviews scheduled.”

“It’ll just take a second, I promise.” Before she answers, I rise from my seat and head towards the door. Cracking it open, I send a message. “You better hope to God—Hey!”

Three students push themselves in, almost toppling me in the process. One girl has a bottle of my parents’ vodka in her hand, another holds a leather paddle. They stumble onto the bed, right in my camera’s view.

“Get out!” I scream, but they’re way too busy getting their clothes off to care.

Rushing to the phone, I hope I can salvage this. “Madame Sinclair, can I please call back at your earliest convenience?”

“You mean when you aren't in the middle of a party?” Her mouth twists. “Hannah, I know it’s late there but late nights are common in an international business. If you’d like to be part of this brand, you’ll need to take things seriously.”

“I am! I swear I’m not hosting this, I…” My voice trails thinking about explaining what’s really going on. I’ll only make this worse. “Can we please rendezvous again at a later date? Today has been… a lot.” A lump forms in my throat.

“I can see that.” Her eyes move to the ongoing makeout sesh behind me. “I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to continue with your application. It is a shame. Your work is great, but we need someone more mature. Ciao, Hannah.”

“No! Wait!” The call ends, my tired face in the reflection of the black screen.

My head hangs, my hands gripping the desk so tight I crack a nail.

I own you.

His words fill my head. His chuckle. His taunts. That confident, smug fucking voice.

My hands bang on the desk, so hard the sting vibrates up my arms. It’s not enough. A fire fills my gut. One that I need to let out. On him.

Rye’s reign ends now.

TWELVE

RYE

This night is betterthan I imagined.

Decadent. Sinful.

Vengeful.

Leaning on the glass door leading out to the patio, the party plays out in front of me. The wax scene on the dining table. The foursome tangled on the shaggy rug. The quarterback with two girls on leashes. All in Hannah’s domain.

I won.

I’ll admit I didn’t think this would be as good as getting the keys to her mansion. But seeing her show up with that look on her face? That makes this all the more worth it.

Marisol approaches me in that leather mini dress I swore I’ve seen Hannah in before. “Rye, why don’t you show me how some of this stuff works?” She walks her fingers up my chest. “I got arrested for being a bad,badgirl.”

I take her hand off me. “Go away.”

Her forehead wrinkles. “But I thought?—”

“You thought wrong.”

She opens her mouth to speak again, but Gray cuts between us in a mesh top and matching shorts. “Marisol, why don’t you give us a moment, beautiful?”

Her eyes bounce between us. Knowing better than to push it, she flips her hair, turning towards the bar. “I’ll see you both later.”

Gray laughs, filling my glass from a bottle of Macallan. “It’s true, isn’t it?” My eyes move to him, but I don’t answer. Mostly because I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. “You and Hannah? I’ve seen a dozen girls talk to you tonight, and you’ve told them all to fuck off.”

“I’m not in the mood.”