Tiptoe of Shame

The twenty-four-year-old lifted her head off the pillow before brushing aside one of her shoulder-length blonde locks. Suddenly, her head raised higher upon seeing the digital clock’s bright red numbers. Immediately, she threw the sheet off her body while rolling into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. With hands rubbing away the last vestiges of sleep, she wondered aloud about the time.

“Eleven o’clock? Eleven o’clock! How did I sleep in this late?”

“Maybe because we didn’t go to bed until almost five,” a new voice responded through a tired yawn.

“Aaaah!” Hadley Brampton screamed in a panic as she jumped off the bed.

Still lying on the bed, a young man admired the bounce of her toned ass. It led to a flash of late night—or was it early morning?— memories of that ass high up in the air while he pounded the uptight blonde from behind.

“Who are you?!” Hadley shrieked, turning around to face him as she backed away from the bed. Keeping an eye on the young man, her gaze also darted around the large hotel bedroom for her clothes.

“What? Now, that’s quite rude,” the guy on the bed replied, sitting up and raising his hand to his chest in umbrage. His admiration for her perky tits vanished with his indignation. The move caused the sheet to drop down to his waist, exposing his rather nicely defined chest. “Actually, that’s downright offensive.”

“I would never—I have a boyfriend—no, make that a fiancé!”

“Yeah, I heard all about Chase last night,” he revealed, his tone mocking her fiancé’s name. Geesh, she was worse than Katie when she’d prattle on about Palmer.

“I…I don’t cheat. What did you do to me?”

“You did last—hey!”

“Did you roofie me?”

“Whoa! What the fuck? Listen, I let the whole forgetting my name thing slide, but nobody accuses Fletcher Wynwick of drugging them. You apologize right this instance, Hadley. If not, I might have to have a word with your employer or Nosy Nectar. I may not have the best reputation, but I never, ever trick women into my bed.”

The junior publicist from Diamond Corp blanched at the Wynwick name. She couldn’t recall hearing about this specific man, but she heard quite a deal about the highly influential family in town and a historic rival of her employers.

“Th-then I was drunk. Did you get me drunk?!” Hadley screeched, finally spotting her discarded dress in a corner behind an armchair.

“To refresh your memory, you plied me with drinks. Also, kept rambling on and on about this podunk town, how much you can’t stand Harvey Diamond, and how your fiancé is incredible. Frankly, Chase sounds like a douchebag. Harvey is way cooler, but don’t tell his daughter I said that,” Fletcher remarked.

“He is not! Chase is smart, successful, handsome, romantic, and the best lover,” Hadley rattled off as she worked to pull on her tight dress.

“That’s definitely not what you screamed last night. ‘Oh, you’re so much bigger than Chase. I can’t take it…fuck that feels…best fuck ever.’ Hmm, do you have selective amnesia?” Fletcher inquired with a grin after mimicking Hadley’s voice.

“I would never—You clearly got me drunk and took advantage of me. I’m going to ruin you!” Hadley vowed, jabbing a finger at him.

“Beat you to it. Does this ring a bell?” Fletcher asked, tossing the sheet off his body to reveal his semi-hard cock. It felt like a cocky move to pull, yet Hadley’s attitude wasn’t rubbing him the right way as it did last night.

“You are so dead. I’m going straight to the hospital to get tested. I know you **** me!”

Jeez, the problem with the bitchy, feisty sort is that they turn off faster than they turn on.

“Look, lady, you bought me the drinks. Wouldn’t take no for an answer once I started flirting with you. Way easier than Lacey expected,” Fletcher mumbled the last sentence under his breath. “The bartenders will back me up. Kinda hard to use my fake ID in this place. Everyone knows me.”

“Your what?!”

"Oh, now you also forgot that I'm a high school senior."

“Oh, my gawd!” Hadley exclaimed in horror as the blood drained from her face.

“Whoa, whoa, simmer down. I’m eighteen. Nothing illegal went down. Maybe morally questionable on your part. Still, no jail time for you,” Fletch reassured the older woman. He felt only slightly amusement at how the tables turned on the mouthy blonde. Her forgetting his name still stung a bit.

“Eight…teen?” Hadley gulped between the two parts. “Never…I never…not on Chase…with…kid.”

“Really? That nugget sure turned you on last night. I mean, shit, you were practically crawling up my body in the elevator. Hey, I bet the Witzler has security footage of your hellion ways,” Fletcher chuckled, wondering if the hotel security enjoyed watching footage like that. “And then you stripped on the way in here. I think the arm of my tux might have ripped from how hard you yanked on it. Definitely sure you tore all the buttons off my dress shirt. Yep, there are a couple over there on the floor,” Fletcher revealed, pointing to the evidence.

Hadley swooned a little. However, spotting one of her high heels past the buttons gave her the strength not to faint. Dashing over, she picked up the shoe while scanning the room for the other.

“I will freely admit that I have a thing—Would that be a fetish?—for uptight, bitchy women. When your kind lets loose, boy, do you snap and turn into a tigress in the sack. Do I have bruises on my chest? I think I might. You sure slammed me back onto the bed hard. “

"I did not," Hadley responded, finally spotting her other shoe. However, her denial wasn't as firm as before, as some of the images he described started to come back to her.

“Yep, pounced right on my dick. I’m damn lucky you have great aim. Might have broken something down there if you didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t act like that,” Hadley replied weakly.

“I do have a way about me that drives women crazy,” Fletcher admitted. Then, after a moment, he mumbled to himself, “Usually ends up with a smart-ass insult about as often as a fuck.”

After grabbing her small purse, Hadley ran through any other items she likely had on her last night. Phone? Check. Charity notes? Nope. Yet, those might have been left down in the bar. Engagement ring? Check. Feeling sick after staring down at the beautiful ring, Hadley shot her head up with a murderous expression for Fletcher.

“What happened here doesn’t get repeated, got that? Nobody is to know.”

“Oh, Miss Brampton. This is Honey Hollow. Everything gets out,” Fletcher stated with a sad shake of his head.

“If it does, you’re dead!”

With that threat, the junior publicist yanked open the bedroom, stepped forward, and abruptly halted. This wasn't one of the hotel's hallways. No, it looked far smaller and shorter and had actual artwork on the wall. "The hell?"

Hadley’s head next snapped to the side as voices carried down the small hallway toward her.

“Uh-oh, looks like somebody is out in the sitting room,” Fletcher said, getting out of the bed.

“Sitting room? Are we in a suite?”

"Penthouse, to be precise," Fletcher clarified, moving to a dresser. Swiftly pulling out a pair of pajama pants, he put them on. "I better go first. Gotta do some scouting, as I don't want you murdering me in front of my family."

Fletcher began to tiptoe down the hallway, only taking a brief break to motion for Hadley to remove her noisy shoes.

“It’s likely for the best that Mayor Dunkley and District Attorney Stratton had to skip this follow-up meeting.”

Fletcher recognized the dry voice and all-business tone of his very distant cousin Basil Thirlby. The chief financial officer of the Wynwick Foundation had a way of putting Fletch to sleep with his long, droning talks about donations and expenditures.

“Clive looked exhausted when I saw him on the way up here. I think he’s continuing to feel some pain in his hand.”

Fletcher’s attention perked at the voice of Dalton Pierce. This isn’t any ordinary foundation meeting. Hmm, maybe this is about whatever I walked into last night. It must be serious to bring the two sides together.

"As for Dewey, dealing with this ice storm is more important at the moment than what is discussed in this room," Fiona Wynwick speculated. "People and voters will forgive the town's initial shutting down, but if it lingers, they'll get angry."

“I agree that their absence is for the best. And I think they should continue to be absent from any future meetings. If word gets out about this…let’s call it alliance, it will only play into Laffont and Rusk’s hands.”

This time, Fletcher risked peeking around the corner as the voice sounded unfamiliar. He quickly scanned the group assembled in the penthouse's sitting room. Besides his mom and Basil, his mom's other cousin and likely best friend, Lotus Thirlby, was in attendance. A frown formed on his face when he spotted his very own best friend jotting down notes. How the hell did Paige get involved in this?

From the other side of his family’s feud with the Diamonds, he saw Graham Diamond standing near the chair that held Dalton Pierce. It also appeared that Mr. Stratton had several supporters in attendance. Emma Mulberry, the feared and respected name partner from Mulberry, March & Stratton, sat on the sofa with Hayden Peel. It took Fletcher nearly a minute to recognize the woman who’d spoken before. Only after Blair Trimble opened her mouth again to speak did the teen recognize the law professor and Clive Stratton’s older sister.

For sure, this is a smaller version of the group I walked in on with Aubrey last night. Damn, I wonder what happened to her. Hadley was pure fire in bed last night, but Aubrey has been on my to-do list for years.

“I think it’s safe to say we need to play catch-up once we leave the Witzler,” Professor Trimble continued. “The other side had clearly been planning their moves for months.”

“My dad is raring to go. He’s planning on flying back early from his winter vacation. It sure looks like that one law school course he teaches a semester isn’t cutting it for his retirement,” Lotus joked, referring to Clive’s predecessor as district attorney. “He’s also had a soft spot for Clive and never could stand Big Ed. Taking down Junior sounds delightful to him. So, I guess I’ll be doing most of the legwork for him.”

"Unfortunately, we might have an issue finding a person to take point on the Rusk side of the investigation. Seamus is willing to provide counsel and most everything else except unretiring. Claims he's too old for this shit and that his wife would strangle him if he got into another scrap again," Graham reported. "He's going to see if Pedro Ariza can help out. However, he thinks it might be doubtful. Pedro lost some manpower recently, so he might be unable to pick up another case."

“If we get ****, we could always ask Gabriela to pressure her cousin to take the case. If it’s even loosely connected to the attacks on Clive and his family, she’ll flash her claws,” Dalton suggested.

“I think we might need to get creative instead,” Emma remarked. “I had the most enlightening conversation with Della Kirby’s daughter. It turns out that Rollie Swift’s granddaughter got herself into quite the pickle last night.”

“Can I go yet?” Hadley impatiently hissed.

“Hold on. I wanna hear this part,” Fletcher whispered back.

“Ramsey. Her name is Ramsey,” Paige supplied.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear,” Emma replied warmly. She did so despite knowing Ramsey’s name. It was always better to praise a young go-getter such as Paige in her mind rather than deflate. “It seems Ramsey observed several men handing out envelopes and brown bags containing the eggs and tomatoes.”

“So someone was paying off the crowd. We couldn’t tell from our vantage spot, yet thought so,” Graham recounted, nodding at Lotus, who he’d gone with to observe the rowdy crowd last night.

“Yes, that’s what Daisy said that her friend assumed. Such a delightful young girl. Has her finger on the pulse of her high school. Takes after her mother and more. If she ever moves on from journalism, I’d fund her law school education,” Emma gushed about Daisy. It was a high level of rare praise from the accomplished attorney and one that caused her old friend to tease her about it.

“Always scouting for your next protégé, Em?” Blair cracked.

"Well, you haven't been sending enough of them my way lately," Emma shot back before resuming. "So, as I said, Ramsey played Nancy Drew and tailed one of these men. In fact, she tailed him to The Penalty Pub."

“The Klackhursts are involved? Why am I not surprised?” Dalton remarked.

"Oh, Dad is going to be even more excited now. Time to take those bastards down once again," Lotus vowed, flashing a predatory grin. During his tenure, Cillian Thirlby had clashed repeatedly with the local gang both in and out of the courtroom.

“Settle down, Lottie,” Fiona ordered, rolling her eyes at her wilder cousin.

Uh-oh, shit’s about to go down in town, Fletcher mused, curious to see how the events played out. It had been a while since the Wynwicks had gotten involved in the city’s dirtier side. Under Myles’ leadership, most of the extended family had avoided sensational nonsense. Rumor had it that most of the extended family expected Fletch to eventually splash their family name across the newspapers with unflattering headlines.

"Now, let's not jump to conclusions. The Klackhursts seem like a solid lead, but just following a man to the bar doesn't mean a thing. Plenty of shady people hang out there," Hayden Peel pointed out.

“Ah, but there is more to the tale. Rollie’s granddaughter was caught and held in the back room,” Emma continued.

“What?!” Graham exclaimed, suddenly concerned about his niece’s co-BFF.

“Fortunately, Daisy went to her mentor for help. I did say she’s a bright girl. Her mentor is Fawn Graff, the school librarian. Ms. Graff also happens to be–”

“Brandy Fallon. So that’s the albi Brandy kept on referring to after the kids’ prank on Crystal. I assume she marched right inside and dragged Ramsey out of the bar,” Fiona speculated, knowing the youngest Fallon sister.

"Something along those lines," Emma understated. She'd found Brandy's plan and choice of accomplices to be somewhat entertaining.

“I hope you aren’t suggesting we use high school students for the Rusk side of the investigation,” Basil said dismissively.

Now, that could be fun. Perhaps I can form a team and…Nah, it sounds like way too much work, Fletcher thought while spotting an opportunity to get Hadley out of the suite. With most of the room’s occupants looking at Ms. Mulberry, only his mother and Graham were in eyeline with the door.

“Not at all. I’m merely thinking of the future,” Emma declared.

"I might have an idea. I'd need to check in with…," Fiona trailed off for a second as she spotted her son and an older blonde scurrying toward the door. However, very few things phased the experienced woman, especially not her son's antics, so she resumed. "The timing might not work, but I will take a stab. I think this person could be very helpful."

“Ah, cryptic,” Lotus teased, garnering nods from most of the others.

Graham wasn't one of them. His mouth dropped open at seeing his company's promising publicist attempting to escape after she'd obviously spent the night with Fiona's teenage son. Knowing Hadley's constant boasting about her fiancé, Graham experienced a déjà vu moment. This so felt like a past experience with Harvey.

Flashing a combined expression of oops and sorry at his mother, Fletcher opened the suite’s door as quietly and quickly as possible. Motioning for Hadley to go, the blonde rushed forward.

Except escape wasn't waiting for the cheating publicist.

Instead, she slammed smack dab into a brunette, who saw the open door and entered in a hurry.

“Dammit,” Fletcher cursed his luck as Hadley bounced off of his stepsister and back into the room.

Off-balance, Hadley staggered, barely able to avoid falling to the floor as Poppy dashed into the room, hardly breaking her stride from the contact. Still clad in her rainbow sequin minidress, the infamous party girl glanced up, spotted the gathering, and screeched to a halt.

"If this is some sort of an intervention, I'm so not in the mood for it," Poppy started, absolutely misreading the room because of her pounding hangover. "Look, I know I have a problem with men. His reputation for being great in the sack was hugely overblown, and I should've known that. Count this as another lesson learned in life, and never bring it up to me again. That's my plan."

"Unless Nosy Nectar reported your date last night, none of us have a clue about what you’re talking about,” Fiona revealed, causing Poppy to narrow her eyes and peer at the assembled group.

“Oh, right. My bad. I’ll just get out of your way and into the shower,” Poppy announced.

“No, no, stay for a few minutes. I want to bring you into this,” Fiona interrupted, surprising nearly everyone in the hotel sitting room.

None were more surprised or annoyed than Paige. She’d already sized up Fletcher’s situation with Hadley, causing her to shake her head in irritated disappointment at him.

The others gathered also came to the same recognition. It didn’t help the cause that Fletcher only wore pajama bottoms and that Hadley still wore her dress from last night while carrying her shoes. Basil didn’t express any facial reaction, yet his eyes flashed his anger. On the other hand, Lotus gave Fletcher an approving grin for his choice and timing. If anyone took after her and Fiona, it was this kid.

Although he feigned ignorance behind a half-second grin, Dalton sought to immediately help Hadley avoid any further embarrassment.

“Ah, Miss Brampton. Excellent timing. I see Tamsin passed my message to you.”

“Mess…Yes, your message!” Hadley quickly took the opportunity handed to her.

“Wait, where the hell is Tamsin?” Graham muttered, pulling out his phone.

“Don’t worry. I know you had some concerns about violating your employment contract because of your help with the CSS, but I plan to have Pamela Mims alter your contract this week to allow side consulting work for Graham, Harvey, and myself. I think experience with a political campaign will benefit your career in the future,” Dalton proclaimed, gesturing to the young blonde to pull up one of the dining room table’s chairs.

“Political consulting? Um, yes, yes, that sounds intriguing,” Hadley scrambled to respond, not necessarily interested in such work.

“You may go, Fletch,” Fiona directed dismissively.

“Hey, hang on, Mom. Not only do you have Rich Girl here, but now you’re asking Poppy to help, too. What the hell? Maybe I want in as well,” Fletcher said, sounding perturbed.

The reference to his song request prank from a secret admirer caused Paige to shake her fist at her best friend.

“Oh, you want to be involved, do you?” Fiona challenged, arching an eyebrow. “Okay, since phones might not be safe, I plan to use one or two go-betweens to send messages to the others in this group. Poppy is popular and well-liked by various groups, while Paige is a known meddler. That’s why they’ll be my choices for this mission.”

“Ah, cloak-and-dagger stuff. Count me in, Mom,” Fletcher smirked, thinking he’d be perfect at spycraft. “I have my James Bond white tux ready to…well, it might need mending as a hellcat ripped it off me last night.”

“I’m not sure who Graham, Dalton, or Emma plan to use, but I don’t think your meeting to pass off information to Whitney will go unnoticed. If anything, the two of you will start fighting, drop the message, and somebody else will pick it up.”

"Drop the Whitney part, and I'm your man. I know to avoid the femme fatales, and Whitney is obviously typecast as one. Perhaps we can put Lana, Peyton, Kiki, and Zaylie in catsuits as my Bond women." Fletcher suggested suggestively. "Or I can go on a seduction mission to gain intel."

“Not happening. Now go clean yourself up before you stink up the suite,” Fiona ordered with a nearly imperceptible flash of her eyes toward Hadley. “And put on some clothes.”

“Hey, I can walk around however I want in my suite.”

“Your suite?” his mother shot back.

“What the hell does that mean?” Graham exclaimed, interrupting the conversation. He wasn’t addressing Fiona and Fletcher but rather his phone.

“Problem?” Dalton inquired.

“Tamsin says that she has to help melt the ice first,” Graham repeated, shaking his head in confusion.

“Do you have a blowtorch for that?” Fletcher asked, excitedly looking at Dalton.

“Oh, it’s for Chastity,” Graham added when the follow-up test came through.

“Explanation enough,” Dalton replied, smiling at the receptionist’s antics. “Fiona, did Bridget discuss getting Chastity involved with the CSS?”

“She did. I’m going to have Sutton and Lainey sit down with her. They’ll check to see what events she’d fit in with,’ Fiona explained.

“Probably all of them,” Graham pointed out. He noticed Dalton pull up his phone, read a message, and roll his eyes.

“Okay, I have to go. There’s been an incident.”

“Can’t your nephew handle it? We still need to decide on a few more matters,” Fiona pointed out.

“Not this incident and not with the person involved. I’ll need to deal with it personally,” Dalton explained, already moving toward the door. “Graham can handle any decisions for our side.”

Tired of being treated as a child by his mother, Fletcher responded by acting like one as he stomped toward his room. Give me a dirty look for screwing Hadley. It’s not like Mom isn’t banging guys barely out of college. And if ever a woman was wound up tight, it was Hadley. She was ready to burst. I mean, the way she bitches about Harvey, it’s only a matter of time before he fucks her too.

“I can be the hero, too,” Fletcher grumbled, slamming the bedroom door behind him.