Page 27 of The Big Scoop

The rest of the press run went well. I showed them the main work floor, the green aspects of the building and how we were mostly off the grid through the massive solar array we’d put up on the roof, and showed them the numbers of how much we’d be putting back into the community through our wages and the taxes we’d be paying.

It had actually been a massive pain in the ass getting everything done. Gwen was right; the planning board was corrupt as hell and I’d had to use every tool at my disposal to get the factory built.

In fact, I’d had to get two of the members thrown out before I could.

Well—I say “I,” but it was really all Gwen. After we got back from Amalfi, she went into full investigative reporting mode and started a crusade against small town corruption. I hooked her up with a couple of buddies of mine who worked security for high-profile businessmen and also had plenty of experience in “investigation” themselves.

They dug up the dirt and then got it to Gwen, who was able to report on it saying an “anonymous source” had given it to her. As it turned out, the two corrupt bastards had been taking bribes for years, giving contracts to members of their family or extended family, and had been doing everything in their power to crush anyone who got in their way.

When Gwen’s story came out in the Tribune, I guess they thought they could still somehow cover it up and keep their posts, but they underestimated the outrage of the Derby people.

They were tossed within weeks and two new people were voted in who were a delight to work with. They were pro-local-business and pro-Derby, and appreciated what I’d done with the Pines and expedited everything I needed to get the factory built.

Now things were going full steam ahead and it was only a matter of time before Derby was thriving again. I was thrilled, but not as thrilled as I was to finish up and get home.

Because tonight was date night.

“Do you want me to tell the men to go with the blue or the off-white?” Audrey asked, charging into my office as I was packing up to leave. She was talking about what color to paint the walls of the game room.

“You know what, Audrey? I’m going to leave this one up to you.”

“Well, you know what I think,” she replied.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Do you seriously not remember?”

I looked at her and shrugged in that way that I knew always made her twist up her lips in frustration like I wasn’t the best boss in the world.

“I said we should hire an artist to paint a mural,” she replied. “I found that great one on Instagram—”

“Great,” I interrupted. “Do it. But don’t pay over twenty grand.”

“How about twenty-one?” she replied.

“Don’t break my balls,” I told her. “I gotta get home to my girl.”

15

Gwen

I moaned as Harrison snatched a fistful of my hair and spanked my ass. My back was arched until it couldn’t arch any more and Harrison was pounding me like he hadn’t fucked me in days.

That wasn’t true, of course; we’d had sex this morning before he went in to work, but when he’d come back home he’d been all over me, which had made me feel so incredible considering I was eight months pregnant and had been wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top.

“Look at you,” he’d said as he unbuttoned his top button and slid his hand down his pants. “You are so fucking sexy.”

“Yeah?” I’d mewed back as I stood there in the kitchen.

“I love your pregnant body.”

He’d walked over to me and lifted my tank top to expose my breasts. They’d grown two cup sizes in the last month, and Harrison was having fun with them. I’d wrapped them around his cock this morning while I was giving him head and watched his eyes roll back in his head just before he came in my mouth.

Yeah, sex with my husband was pretty fucking awesome.

He’d proposed to me the week after we got back from Amalfi. Some people might think that’s strange to not propose in one of the most beautiful places in the world, but Harrison didn’t want to be a cliché, so he took me back to the pines and proposed to me in front of the new sign.

He’d been true to his word and they’d put my name on it too. The Macadam Pines were now the Macadam-Thompson Pines.

---