Page 43 of Her Ruthless Protector

10

A.J. didn’t recognize the number. Probably another journalist, so she tossed her phone to Shelly who easily caught it. Shelly didn’t used to be able to do that—when they first worked together, whenever A.J. had thrown something at Shelly it would just bounce off her boobs. Now she could play shortstop for a fast pitch girls’ team.

“Answer that,” A.J. said as she stalked over to talk to Python Sexton. He was late for his interview with Fox and the BBC. He’d been begging for this interview and now they were standing around with their thumbs up their collective asses.

She banged on his trailer door. He better not be having quality time with his ‘Angels’.

There was no answer. She banged again. She heard a thump.

“Python, answer the door.” She yelled.

“A.J., it’s some guy named Kane. He asked if he could speak to you. He sounds yummy.”

“Put it on speaker,” she said as she banged on the door again. “Kane, it’s me. Look I’m at Old Sex Snake’s trailer and you’re on speaker. I’m trying to get him to answer his door. What do you need?” She banged the side of her fist on the door again. This time she heard Python ask who it was.

“Sounds like you’re busy. Can you call me later? Doesn’t matter what time. I’m working ‘til the wee hours, just want to hear your voice.”

Did she just hear herself give an internal whimper? Over not seeing a man she’d just met? Was she fourteen?

“A.J.?”

“I’ll call,” she assured him. “Gotta go. Something tells me black coffee is involved in my future as well as a bucket of ice water.”

Kane chuckled. “Go get ‘em, Tiger. Gotta go.”

“Who’s that?” Shelly asked.

“Python, if you don’t open the door in two seconds, I’m never arranging another interview for you again,” A.J. yelled.

A.J. heard a click but the door didn’t open. She turned the handle and pulled on the door. It was completely dark inside. She sniffed. She didn’t smell booze—please God, say it wasn’t drugs.

When she found him, he was sitting in a huge modified seat and holding a cat, who looked very content in his arms. The whole thing looked very innocuous. Then she noted a ginger cat perched on the top of the chair. Even in the dim light she could see the fear radiating off Sexton.

“Python?”

“The name is Paul,” he whispered. “Paul Seaton.”

“Okay. Well, Paul, I’m sorry but we don’t have time for deep heart-to-hearts. You’re late for your interviews, and you know how important they are.”

“You’re going to have to cancel them. I can’t do it. Better yet, send the girls.”

Fuck a duck.

“Those girls will be ripped to shreds. They won’t get the right publicity that you will. Come on, you know if they make it into the top ten, you can parlay this into a major record deal, but not if they do the talking.”

“I don’t have it in me,” he said pathetically.

He moved the cat off his gut and placed her down onto the floor, then shifted his butt so that he could pull some papers out from under him. He handed them to A.J..

Great, I get to read ass paperwork.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Divorce papers from DiDi.”

“DiDi? I thought you two split up twenty years ago.”

“We did, but she never divorced me. But now she says she found someone she wants to marry. This is it, A.J. I’ve really screwed the pooch this time.”