The Submission of Alistair Ingram by Kelli Maine Page B

chest lurched at his protectiveness of her, at the fierce look in
his eyes. It wasn’t fear she felt—it was something foreign. She couldn’t think
of a time when someone stood up for her before. Not even as a child.
    “So,
what about the sex then?” Chessa asked. “ The Hues of Black and Blue role
is highly sexual in nature. Are the two of you having sex?”
    “No.”
Alistair spit the word off his tongue like it was poison. Like he hadn’t just
wrecked her with his fingers…with his mouth… Left her a broken mess on his bed.
But, he hadn’t lied. They hadn’t had sex and wouldn’t, even if Bethany did feel
her resolve wavering.
    “Don’t
believe it,” Heather said, scooting to the edge of her chair. “He came back
that night and told me what happened.”
    Alistair
shot out of his chair. “Did I say we had sex, Heather?” He stalked
toward her. “Did those words ever leave my lips?”
    She
eased back in her seat. “No.”
    Bethany’s
eyes darted from Heather to Alistair to the camera. This wouldn’t look good
when it got out, and there was no doubt it would. She reached out and took
Alistair by the wrist, gently pulling him back toward his chair. “Sit,” she
said, firmly.
    He
did.
    Heather
laughed. “She does have you trained, doesn’t she? Black Betty’s little
lap dog.”
    “This
is fucking ridiculous,” Alistair said, out of his chair again and hauling
Bethany up by her arm. She didn’t resist. “We’re out of here.”
    Even
though she knew this interview would be career suicide for him, Bethany
breathed a sigh of relief when they were back outside getting into the S.U.V.
    “What
happened?” Kent said, twisting to face the backseat as she climbed in. “There’s
no way that interview was only five minutes.”
    The
glare Alistair shot Kent made the hair on Bethany’s arms stand on end. “I told you
to never schedule an interview with that woman again.”
    Kent
slammed his hand into the steering wheel. “Fuck. What did you do?”
    “That,”
Alistair said, jabbing his finger toward the building from where he stood
outside the back passenger door, “was walking into an execution. Did you know
Heather was going to be here?”
    Kent
turned his eyes to the front windshield and shrugged. “Well, I…it might have
been mentioned.”
    Alistair
slammed his fist against the side of the S.U.V. Bethany about jumped out of her
skin. He gave her a regretful look and shook his head. “Why would you send me
in there if you knew what it was going to be?”
    Kent
threw his hands in the air. “Publicity! Any media attention is good media
attention. Why can’t I get you to see that?”
    “No.
It’s not.” Defeated, Alistair slid in beside Bethany and pulled the door shut.
    They
drove back to Alistair’s square, white, monstrosity of a mansion in silence. Kent
pulled in through the gate and turned the engine off. “Listen,” he said, “a lot
has gone on since I’ve been your manager. You need to listen to me more. You
need--”
    “Kent,”
Alistair said, opening his door. “You’re fired.”
    He
got out and slammed the door. Bethany scrambled to grasp her door handle and
hop out onto the driveway. Alistair waited for her in front of the S.U.V. that
was already backing out, only inches away from her.
    “Come
on,” he said, holding out a hand. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a
nap.”
    A
nap? “Oh, okay.”
    She
figured he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, but it was closing in on
evening now anyway, and her stomach was grumbling. “I don’t suppose you have
any Snickers bars?” she asked.
    He
looked at her with a grin of confusion. “Snickers bars? No. Sorry. But,” he
said, opening the front door, “I do have some of my grandma’s bananas foster.
It’s the best thing you’ll ever taste.”
    “I’ve
never had it.”
    He
reached out and brushed her braid back. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get
comfortable, and I’ll bring some up?”
    He
brushed