Page 100 of Strut

“You want to do what?”I gaped at hearing Kip’s plan and shot Hunter my best are-you-fucking-kidding-me stare.

“The photos are blowing up, and even if you got something legal to take them down, they’re everywhere and spreading. I just figured why not use them?” Kip said in a smooth voice like he hadn’t just freaked me the hell out.

“Kip.” Hunter’s tone carried a warning that had Kip’s eyes darting nervously to Hunter’s face.

“I know it seems crazy,” Kip insisted. “But just think about it. The photos are out there anyway, and being the nosy arseholes that people are, they’re clicking and sharing and we can’t do anything much to stop that. But we could piggyback onto the interest with our own spin and use the momentum.”

Goddammit.As much as I hated the idea, Kip was right. I shot Hunter a pleading look, but he merely shrugged.

“It’s up to you, babe.” He reached across and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “I’ll stand by whatever you decide.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “There you go again. Makes me wanna slap you.”

He smirked. “Maybe I should write a book.”

“Good grief.” I shook my head and turned to Kip who was watching the exchange with a smile on his face. “Not a word.” I stabbed a finger at him, and he zipped his lips. “So, what you’re saying is that we turn those shots against Darcy as an example of the sexual harassment in my original post. My personal MeToo?”

“Exactly.” Kip leaned closer to the screen, his startling green eyes dancing beneath light auburn waves. “We’ll use the same hashtags the post is going viral with and then add our own. We can shove this right back in Darcy’s face. Use it against him.”

Something fired in my belly. “Damn, I’m starting to like this idea,” I admitted. “So you’re saying that we can’t name him, but he’s kind of named himself. And I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Kip opened his hands. “The photos are yours, Alec, so why not claim them back. They shouldneverhave been taken or made public. He’s a coward and it’s fucking online abuse; I don’t care whether he has some bullshit contract to fall back on. He’s not going to push that or he would’ve posted under his own profile to start with. I say let’s make the fucker sweat.”

Oh god. Am I really going to do this?

Hunter leaned forward on his elbows. “Remember that not everyone is going to believe you, regardless of what you say or do, and there’ll be push back from some.”

I fixed my gaze on Kip’s. “Show me what you’re thinking of doing.”

Kip shared his screen and I flinched at the all-too-familiar image of me sprawled on the couch. But this time there was aGhostbusters-style slash through the middle that provided some modesty and a list of hashtags and helplines. And at the very top in capital letters were the words:

SEXUAL HARASSMENT. CONCEALED CAMERAS. WHAT ELSE? BREAK THE SILENCE.

My heart thundered in my chest.Holy hell.Subtlety was clearly out the window. There was no coming back from this. I stared at the image and tried to catch my breath.

Hunter’s hand snaked into mine and gave a quick squeeze. “You don’t have to do this.”

I faced him and saw nothing but kindness. “Yeah, I think I do.”

He leaned across the table to kiss me, although I could barely feel his lips, my body mostly numb. I blew out a sigh and turned back to Kip. “Go ahead. Do it. Into the fucking lion’s den.”

Kip looked way too wickedly gleeful when he signed off, and I sent Hunter for a shot of tequila. “I’ll make it two,” he said, then called from the kitchen. “Fuck it, I’m bringing the bottle.”

“Don’t you have a meeting?” I checked the clock. “Shit, Hunter, you’re late.”

“I postponed.”

“But it was important.” I was costing him work already. The guilt must’ve shown on my face because he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Stop it. It’s fine. If I lose this contract, it won’t be the end of the world. I’m not leaving you alone, end of story.”

“But—”

“I said, it’s fine. Now drink that shot.” He slid two glasses of tequila onto the table. I slammed mine back and immediately dissolved into a fit of coughing while Hunter barely blinked an eye downing his. “Another,” I croaked, pushing the empty glass his way and he filled it again. After the second shot, I managed a deep breath and my hands had stopped shaking. “More.”

“Slowing it down.” Hunter poured a half glass and set the bottle out of my reach.

“Spoilsport,” I grumped, settling for sipping the shot while Hunter watched on with a parental air. I checked my phone and saw it was still early as hell in New Zealand, but it would have to do.

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