Unscrupulous by Avery Aster

Author:Avery Aster [Avery Aster]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00DDXKA1U
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2013-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

Part Three

French Riviera, Here Comes Taddy Brill

“I knew I was in love when I couldn’t fall asleep because she was lying next to me.”

—Warner Truman, CEO of Truman Enterprises

Chapter Twelve

Two Percent of the Women in the World

May 19

Commissariat de Police, Cannes, France

At the Cannes police station, Warner had declined all press interviews. That left the media anticipating a statement from him even more. The reporters waited outside.

Inside, he stood holding his cell phone. A text message from Sheldon, who was partying in Ibiza, read, “Yo, bro, ur hotel is creamed on TV. Hook me up w/ Caramel.”

Asshole. He typed back, “Fuck off, Shel.”

Sheldon immediately texted back, “Rock-on w/ ur hard-on dude!”

Thick in scandal, Warner had arrived in Cannes only twenty-four hours ago, and Hôtel du France, his elite property, was the news headline. Warner didn’t have a problem with porn. And this could’ve stayed under wraps with no one the wiser. What set him off? It had all been captured on the major TV stations around the world. His Hôtel du France’s sign and logo had been broadcast right behind the adult actors while they sucked, jacked, screwed and came all over the spectators below. The news this morning had coined the property “Hôtel du Anal”, with the catchphrase “You’ll get a load full at Hôtel du France”. He’d placed Kip Von Scott on an unpaid leave and had stepped in as acting general manager until his relief arrived from Marseille. He’d have to sell Hôtel du France at the end of the season or rebrand the property under a new name. The hotel video, combined with the fact that he hosted Prix du Cinéma Pour Adultes, had nailed his grave shut. Any hopes for his luxury hotel to be taken as a five-star property on the French Riviera had just died.

He filed the papers against who’d started the drama, the American. “Here’s my signature for the trespassing charge.” Warner stood at the counter, returning the documents.

“Monsieur Truman, your signature confirms Hôtel du France will file charges against Mademoiselle Izatt.” The officer stamped the papers and placed them atop a large claim file. Warner had worked too hard to build his empire to have it ruined over something so crass.

“Oui, correct.” He smiled, confident that he’d made the right decision. Someone needed to be made an example of.

“Take a seat in the waiting area. We’ll call you up once the paperwork has been processed.” The policeman pointed to an alcove area in the middle to sit.

“Merci.” He walked over, poured himself a glass of water and sat on the bench, closing his eyes to rest. I will never come back to Cannes as long as I live. We’re ruined.

A racket at the front from someone struggling to get through the reporters and paparazzi, who’d tried to get Warner’s attention when he arrived, caused him to look over.

“I’m here for Kiki.”

That voice. Her voice! Red’s voice?

“Over there, mademoiselle,” an officer responded from the front reception area.

A gorgeous redhead walked his way. He did a double take.

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