“Is it true, then? Joey said something that day I bumped into him at the bar, but I wrote the comment off as his usual brand of bullshit.”
“No. I interviewed Fiorelli in 2018 and backed him into a corner. Not the smartest man on the planet, and not the first person I ever pissed off on screen. He did indeed threaten to end me himself. We had a roomful of witnesses, but I took it all as bluster.”
“You weren’t worried?”
“Not unduly. Comes with the job. Besides, six months after the interview aired, Fiorelli was involved in a family disagreement. His brother-in-law decided he could run the outfit better, went into a restaurant in downtown Boston with his gang of three for a confrontation. Only the restaurant staff walked out alive.”
“That isdefinitelygoing into the book.”
Marshall chuckled, and they fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments.
“By the way, have you read the paper this morning?” asked Marshall.
“Only the front cover. We’ve got all day.”
Even in the coldness of the morning, just saying the words aloud filled Spencer with warmth. After a leisurely breakfast, he planned on taking Marshall back to bed. Maybe later he would finish the Sunday newspapers, or perhaps he could persuade Marshall to read aloud to him, a new and surprisingly effective form of foreplay.
“Thought you might be interested to see this.”
Marshall pulled the newspaper out of his pocket and handed Spencer what looked to be a full-page advert.
“I don’t have my glasses—”
“Here they are.”
Marshall pulled them out of the same pocket and placed them on Spencer’s face. When he focused on the top of the page, he screwed up his nose.
“Positions Vacant? Why would I be interested in— Oh, I see.”
The full-page advertisement was for the award-winning Blackmore Magazine Group and contained no fewer than six positions vacant. Spencer skimmed them briefly, seeing his and Bev’s former roles advertised.
“Hey, I meant to tell you,” said Spencer, handing the paper back. “Blake sent me an email overnight. Probably from his hospital bed. Asked if I would consider coming back to Blackmore, to officially take over Clarissa’s role, if the pay and incentives were right. I declined immediately. I want nothing more to do with him or their family.”
“I would have been disappointed if you’d even considered the idea. You’ve made a good career move, Spence.”
“Yes, I know. But I feel a little sorry for Blake. I think he can see the writing on the wall, and he’s starting to get desperate. I’ll bet you a blowjob he’s contacted Bev and Prince, too.”
“Even though that’s a bet I don’t mind losing, I’m guessing they would also have said no, if they have any sense. Don’t waste your time feeling sorry for bad management, Spence. From everything you’ve told me, Muriel Moresby knew exactly what she was doing but has the emotional quotient of a Grinch. I’ve seen the same thing time and time again, bad business owners treating good staff appallingly, and then blaming everyone but themselves when things go belly up.”
“Wow. Harsh, Marsh.”
“That’s because I know what you’ve been through. I love what you told Muriel about burning bridges. But now is not the time for looking back.”
“I know what you’re saying—”
“But a little part of you still wonders why you never got the credit you deserved. Am I right or wrong?”
“I spent two years of my life there, Marsh. I don’t want to be there anymore, but neither do I want to see Blackmore fail.”
“And that’s what makes you the better person, Spence.”
“You know,” said Spencer, a thought coming to him, “I’m surprised Blake didn’t get Muriel to phone you, get you to try and sway me, now she knows you and I are an item. Especially after you agreed to the client event interview.”
“That’s never going to happen, I’m afraid.”
“You’ve spoken to her?”
“I don’t need to. But once you see the final cut of my interview with her and Lord Moresby, you’ll understand why. A number of my additional questions made her extremely uncomfortable—although his lordship was a good sport throughout. So, no, she won’t be calling me anytime soon.”
