Page 3 of Out of the Shadows
I scroll down. There’s a photo of him walking into a club or bar with an attractive blond woman hanging off his arm, but she’s no trashy footballer’s wife, all fake tan, tits, and glow in the dark peroxide poker straight hair. The woman’s classy, and a classic beauty. She’s willowy, almost boyish, and her hair’s cropped very short. Russo’s girlfriend, or maybe even wife, I guess.
I sneak another look over the top of my computer. I feel like I’m indulging in a guilty secret, even though I tell myself this is legitimate research. Which, of course, is bollocks. I go back to Hot Fox.
Daniel Russo arriving for his fiftieth birthday party in March… Almost six months ago, about the same time I joined Kingsbury… with Geraldine Laferty, heiress to the Laferty Light Lager fortune, society hostess and fashion icon. According to sources close to Hot Fox, she has over two hundred pairs of Jimmy Choos. Ms. Laferty is also a human rights lawyer.
I snort. Just add that on as an after thought, or a footnote. I scroll down some more.
It’s with sadness that Mr. Russo and Ms. Laferty have since announced they are consciously uncoupling and their summer wedding and spectacular honeymoon in the Seychelles have been cancelled. This leaves our hottest of the Hot Foxes free to roam…. Wonder which chicken coop he’s going to shake his Hot Fox big, bushy tail in next…
I want to gag at the same time I want to laugh. The prose is so cringingly awful, it’s a masterpiece.
I scroll through, and almost jump. Daniel Russo stares out of the screen at me. Just him, no former fiancée attached.
And yeah, he’s a hot fox all right.
Dark, dark, hair but liberally threaded with silver streaks. There’s an olive shade to his skin, betraying his Italian roots even if his surname isn’t enough to give them away.
He’s trussed up like a corporate turkey in a slate grey suit, a crisp white shirt, and a deep magenta tie, but he’s given a hint of edge by the dark scruff shadowing his jawline. But it’s his eyes that make the photo so arresting. I swallow down the dry lump that’s suddenly got stuck in my throat. I’d forgotten about his eyes, and I was so shocked by his reappearance today I hadn’t been in any state to take in very much about him at all.
Eyes of such a deep shade of blue, they’re almost violet. Eyes I’d imagined looking down at me as I jacked off in bed at night, during the short time I worked for him. What I thought I could do with Daniel Russo, and what he could do with me, was the cause of many a spectacular orgasm, and not always when it was just me and my hand.
I log out of Hot Fox, clear my browsing history, and sit back, drumming my fingers on the desk.
Daniel Russo, official hot fox and undeniably sexy bastard. With the emphasis on bastard. He shafted me once, but I’m not going to give him a chance to do it again.
My phone rings, jolting me out of my thoughts but not before I wonder why he and the very attractive and willowy Ms. Laferty never made that walk down the aisle.
