Disruption
Wednesday morning Presley was sitting at a cute little table for two overlooking the beach, latening to the surf pound the shore and the laughs of people enjoying the sunshine. Nice was turning out to be everything she dreamed it would be and more. When her editor told her to book time off and recharge herself after back–to–back novels, she’d initially balked but then when the countdown to her flight to France and this beautiful resort in Nice drew to a close, her excitement ramped up. Now, she was grateful her friends and family pushed her to follow the editor’s direction.
She picked at a piece of a croissant and sipped her coffee, content in the first relaxing day she’d spent in months. Her book release was set. The initial pre–ordered copies would be available online for ordering on Friday with the new cover. The mass orders which would go to the bookstores would start being filled after. Her hopes for the book were for it to surpass the others she’d written.
Her phone rang on the small table, and she frowned. It was only after seven in Nice, so it was after ten pr back home. Since leaving at two in the morning on Tuesday, and losing nine hours, she’d spent most of her first day in France sleeping off the jet lag. Today however she was up bright and early, but she wasn’t expecting any phone calls at all today.
When she didn’t recognize the number back home, she hesitated to answer it. “Hello?”
“You blocked my number you, lying, conniving, witch!”
She groaned internally. She shouldn’t have answered.
“Hi Cruz. What can I do for you?”
“We were supposed to meet for lunch today. I had a PR team ready to capture us meeting for lunch. You stood me up.”
“Actually, I never agreed to lunch yesterday.”
“You said Tuesday.”
“I didn’t specify which Tuesday. You presumed yesterday but I never gave you a date or time. You sent me a text message, but I didn’t respond to your request.”
“What do you mean yesterday? It was today. Today! Not Monday. Tuesday.”
“Tuesday is yesterday where I am.”
“Where you are?”
“Yes,”
“Where are you?”
“Vacation.”
She could almost hear the blood rushing through his gargantuan neck to his brain ready to explode.
“When are you due back?”
“July.”
“It’s only the beginning of June!” he cursed furiously. “You’re gone for a month!”
Yes. My parents mentioned the vacation at brunch Sunday.”
I’m going to strangle you.”
“Good luck with strangling me over the phone lines, dork. I’m not even in the country
“You need to get your ass home now. We made a deal.”
“Which I intend fully on complying with. I’ll even sign the four–date contract, no balls, but it will have to start when I get back,” she paused for added dramatic effect, “In July.”
“This is not what we agreed upon.”
“When did I agree I would start before I went away? My vacation has been booked six months. I never like to be around when the book gets released. It makes me nervous.”
She could hear him huffing.
“Where are you?”
“Vacation. At a nice resort.” She liked the play on words there and grinned to herself. Nice versus nice.
“I don’t think you understand the ramifications of your bullshit.”
“I don’t think you understand how much I don’t care. You do know the pranks you, Odin and Anderson have played on me over the years caused me to require extensive psychotherapy, right? Damn Cruz, you humiliated me at every turn. You ruined my first kiss. You ruined me getting my driver’s license. You ruined prom. You ruined my graduation ceremony. God, Cruz, you, and Odin bursting into my dorm room on Halloween with the intent to cover me in black paint with the orange confetti caused me to fall off Noah mid–stroke and I broke his d**k! Do you get that? I broke his p***s, and it took us four months before we were able to have s*x again. Not to mention the tear I suffered with made peeing hurt like a b***h for weeks. We were eighteen and terrified to death of having s*x again in case of the pain.”
He snickered, “it broke his d**k?”
“It’s not funny! You ruined so many things of my life.”
“You wrecked my bike.”
“Not even remotely comparable.” She sniffed angrily. “Look, I woke up this morning content and feeling peaceful. You’re ruining it for me.”
“It’s already morning where you are?”
“Yes. I’m at a beach resort. The sun is up. Families are already at the water. I’m enjoying breakfast and watching the people as they walk by.”
“It’s a month–long vacation?”
“Yes.”
“Cut it in half.”
“I will not. Do you know how much I paid for this vacation?”
“Fifty million?”
“Okay, you need to get over the fifty–million thing. I stand by my statement you should have been making deals in the boardroom and not with your c**k. If you really needed to bed the daughter of the
©Disnoption
person you wanted to work with in order to get the deal, you’re a shitty businessman.”
“I am not a shitty businessman.”
“It sure sounds like it.”
He sighed, Tisten. I need your help. Please. Can you come back? Reschedule your vacation and then take it from July to August.”
“My vacation cost me fifteen grand. I’m not a billionaire like you, Cruz. I can’t simply throw away a big vacation because you want me to come hold your hand a few times. Be a big boy and figure it out on your
own.”
“You accused me of abuse, Presley. Someone recorded it. You accused me of using drugs. Someone recorded it. You accused me of forcing you to have an abortion and then leaving you there alone. Someone recorded it. I work in the health service Industry. Do you know the impact this has on my business? I have spent the last ten years, working my ass off to be where I am. The last six years I have put my blood, sweat and tears into it. I haven’t taken a vacation in over five years, and you are basking on a beach while my entire reputation is in the shitter. I need you to fix this. Please.”
She hated herself for the guilt she was feeling at his words.
“Ladybird,” he whined her name. “Come on.”
“Why do you hate me?” she asked suddenly. “Don’t give me the s**t about being Odin’s best friend. Why do you hate me specifically? You were old enough to make up your own mind by the time you were thirteen or fourteen. Why did you keep doing this until you were in your mid–twenties? Why?”
“I don’t know.” He said quietly.
ma
“You hated me for no reason.”
“You went too far this time, Presley.”
“You brought it on yourself. You made me your enemy. You can’t even explain why you did it. I know why! dislike you, Cruz. You ruined so many of my firsts and humiliated me at every turn. It would take a miracle the likes the world has never seen for me to forgive you for all the pain you caused me. You caused me all this grief, all this trauma, all this pain and for a reason you cannot even define other than my brother asked you to do it.” She looked out to the crystalline waters and sighed, “your date was ruined because of me and my prank Cruz but I’m not taking responsibility for you losing the business deal you were trying to secure via a woman’s v****a. As for your reputation, if it can’t handle just over four weeks of quiet, then it’s on you. Not
me.”
“Look. I don’t even pretend to understand your mind, but you were the one who accused me of abuse.”
y table turning to “Because you abused me!” She screeched the words out and then noted people at a n look at her and she dropped her head into her hand. “What you and Odin and Anderson did to me was abuse, Cruz. God why can’t you see it?”
“You think our pranks were abuse?”
“I don’t think it, Cruz. I believe it to the bottom of my soul. My mother believes it. My father believes it. My therapist, my best friends, hell a stranger on the street would believe it.”
“Your father?”
,
Disruption
“He tolerates you Cruz because your father has been one of his close friends for decades and you were Odin’s best friend but the things you did to me, he doesn’t like you very much as a person. You can ask him yourself in you don’t believe me?
“Honestly, Presley, most of the s**t we did was to make Odin laugh, not to make you cry. You know he was suicidal half the time, talking about killing himself because your father liked you better than him”
“What a load of bullshit,” she propped her head on her palm. “You put spiders in my bed when I was kid to keep Odin from offing himself?”
“Yes or least distracting him from finishing out what he threatened to do. Messing with you was a sure way to get him to refocus his thoughts. Look, I never thought it was abuse.”
“Well, you need to revaluate your behavior. You were a twenty–five–year–old man, not a child, a man, when you broke into my college dorm. Which part do you not comprehend? You are seven years older than me. I was a little girl, and you were torturing me with ridicule, mean pranks and cruel bullying. I hated you. I hated you so
much.”
“I’m sorry, Presley.“
“I’m sorry, Presley.”
“You’re only apologizing because you want something from me.”
“No. I do want something from you but I’m apologizing because it’s the right thing to do. Spending the time away from Odin made me grow up, Presley, I’m not the person I used to be. Please. Hear me out.”
“I’m on vacation, Cruz. I’ll be back in July. If you want to do the four dates when I’m back, I will do as I agreed to do. Until then, you’ll have to deal with your f****d up reputation, one I believe from the bottom of my soul you’ve earned, all on your own.”
“Ladybird.”
“Bye Cruz.”
Ending the call, she flung the phone to the table and stared out over the beach wondering how one ten–minute phone call could ruin everything in front of her so easily.
One more thing the big jerk ruined for her.
With a frustrated sigh, she collected her belongings and went back to her room.
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Nemure
He was exhausted. His head was pounding. He’d been eating antacids like candles since he’d
skipped town on him. His PR team were losing their minds because another story popped up this mo with a trending tweet questioning his use of steroids. His legal advisors wanted to sue her, but his father and her father were old friends and not to mention she was Odin’s younger sister. Legal action was not going to
happen.
He needed her to get back and fix this st. He sent her another text asking if she would at the very least release a joint statement. He already knew it was going to bounce back as blocked. He’d been blocked since Tuesday and when he’d texted her from his assistant’s cell, she’d blocked it as well. She’d been gone four days. It was Friday now, and she was in the wind,
Cruz needed caffeine and he left his office in search of something stronger than what his admin assistant made for him out of the instant coffee machine.
“Sir?”
“You brought me a coffee yesterday and it was as close to watching them pick the beans and then make me a coffee with it on the side of the road. Where did you get it?”
“There is a shop across the street, about five doors down. The couple who owns it are from Brazil, and they import their beans from family they have there. You liked it?”
“I loved it.”
1 can run and
“No. I’m going.”
“Sir. You have a meeting in an hour.”
“It’s not going to take an hour to get coffee from a shop a few feet away. If it does, stall.” He grunted knowing damn well the meeting was with his board of directors and they were still pissed off over the loss of the fifty–million–dollar deal. Regardless of the fact he was certain he was going to get a more lucrative deal with a different company to make up the loss, the investors who were now board members were all pissed off at the sudden dip in profits.
When he reached the outdoors, he was immediately feeling better. The bright sunshine, salty ocean air from the bay and the cloudless sky were instant balm for his pissy mood. He looked left and right and then noted not far down the street on the opposite side the hanging sign of the coffee shop exactly as his assistant said
it was.
Dodging cars, he crossed to the other side and then when he reached the coffee shop, he breathed deep, Inhaling the aroma of the dark roasted beans. Thank God for coffee. He got in line and studied the menu behind the counter.
“Oh my god, is that him?”
He pretended he didn’t hear the giggle of the four university aged women sitting at a table to his right.
“It’s definitely him. I bet under his suit he’s all ripped muscles and an eight pack.”
“And what do they call that V–shape thing?”
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Namurs
The Adonis Belt.
thought it was Apollo’s Belt
I don’t care whose belt it is, I want to lick it.”
Cruz gave his head a shake at the blunt commentary and shot them a side eye surprised as hell
staring him down. They all giggled again and buried their faces in their hands. He frowned at them. Whe hell?
“It is definitely him.”
He felt a shiver of worry trail down his spine and then thought of Presley. Were these more people who saw him on the internet when she’d trashed the date and then suggested they were role playing? He shot the quartet another irritated scowl and they giggled again.
One of them waved at him, “are you Narmurs?”
“What?” he turned his torso to face them. Their giggling reminded him of chattering monkeys at a zoo. He turned away from them and walked up to the counter. He ordered his coffee and then ordered an extra espresso. He recalled his assistant liked lattes and ordered her one as well. Maybe it would make up for him being an ass all week.
He paid and then moved to the end of the counter to wait. He noticed the four girls were all staring at him hard and then looking back to books in their hands. He wanted to yell at them and ask them what the f**k their problems were, but he already was dealing with the fallout of losing his temper just over a week ago. He
couldn’t afford another freak out.
He was staring into space as he waited for his coffee, his arms folded over his chest, wondering how he could convince Presley to issue a statement. He knew she was on his mind far too much to be healthy, but he couldn’t get her and her accusations out of his head.
She’d accused him of abuse. He’d talked with Anderson about it, when he and Anderson met for a beer leaving Odin out the night before. Anderson agreed abuse might be a stretch but then said as an adult and looking back at the s**t they did, he could understand why she was feeling like she was. Then Sloane showed up, called him an oversized jackoff who gets off on bullying women half his size and said she was going to visit a witch to see if they could hex him until his d**k fell off, He’d begged Sloane to tell her where Presley was so he could apologize in person, but she’d seen through his plea.
“Excuse me, sir? Are you Narnurs?”
“Am I what?” he was perplexed as the young blond, being encouraged by her three friends at the table extended a hardcover book towards him.
“Can I get your autograph? You’re him, right? Narnurs? From the planet Cockaigne?”
g his return to the
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he waved dismissively at her, wishing the barista would hurry up and get his coffees to him and sincerely regretting ordering his PA one since it was de
office.
“Narmurs,” the woman shoved the book in his face, “the latest release from Perris Brooks. You’re Narmurs, right? You are on the cover of the book?”
Realization hit him almost as soon as the dread did when he took the book from her hand and looked at the cover. His fingers clenched tight around the hard binding
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Numurs
He knew the photo. The Rugby Association used it for promo material on the website. His team during the Olympics won a try and, in his glee, he’d ripped his shirt off. He was shirtless, veins popping in his neck, arms and chest and his face, despite the excitement, he appeared angry. He’d been emotional in the photo, and he loved the feeling he got from playing and loved this picture.
Yet, this wasn’t the photo. It was his face. It was his body. It was digitally altered. For one, the man on this cover was red. Demon red was all he could think of. He was also gripping a futuristic weapon in his hand where the original photo held the remnants of his t–shirt. The leather and metal straps and rings which ran over his chest and met over the digitally placed skintight trousers cupping his balls were reminiscent of the cheesiest porn he could think of.
“Where did you get this?” he gasped at the woman holding up a pen.
“The bookstore across the street!” she smiled. “It’s you, right?” she tapped the cover. “You have the same hair and eyes.” She looked down, “do you also have two c***s?”
“Excuse me?”
“My girlfriend skimmed ahead, and, in
the book, it says Narnurs is the Cockaignian name for “he who has two c***s* and I’m curious if the author only used you because you match the description of the character after she wrote it or if you were her inspiration.” The was looking him up and down and then pointing to the exceptionally large and clearly enhanced package the straps were wrapped around. “I mean it’s evident on the life size cutout in the bookstore there is two.”
He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes as she stared at his waist and licked her lips. “Hey, lady, my eyes are up here. No, I do not have,” he cut himself off. “Wait a minute. Life size cut out?”
“Yeah, it’s in the bookstore. Every time Perris Brooks has a release, we’re the first in line to get her book. We preordered this one and we heard there might have been a delay because there was an issue with the cover, but we were thrilled to know it was only a rumor Well, will you sign it?”
He pushed the book back in the girl’s hand and left the coffee shop, wandering blindly, ignoring the honking of cars as he crossed the street towards the bookstore. There in the window was exactly what the girl in the coffee shop described. Pushing the door open, he heard the chatter come to a halt as he walked up to the cu out and looked at it.
“Oh my God! It’s Narnurs in person!” a girl screamed. “Narnurs!”
He wielded the cut out like a shield as he found himself needing to escape back out the store as a swarm of Presley’s fans swarmed him.
He arrived back to the offices motioning at security to block the entrance and he was aware they barely held back the twenty or so screaming women as he ducked into the elevator.
Cruz was panting, breathing heavily and sucking wind as he ruffled his hand through his hair.
He was officially going to murder Presley Brookmore.
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