[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181027/663a910bfdd4784a6e328b98e07224c2.png[/img]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/71/f0/5a/71f05a8e3fa986c228e57c94944b9e45.gif[/img] [img]https://em.wattpad.com/81a252b4ee03d7cb248c812fd8a3e3c9bf181aac/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f666163696f6251797563636847773d3d2d3438373431343238312e313530333239616362633764656138393530353534333639373633342e676966?s=fit&w=720&h=720[/img]
[color=indianred][i]A collab with [@Moon Child][/i][/color][/center][hr][hr]
On the far side of the nightclub, tucked away in his own little corner with a wall separating him from the dance floor, was Joshua Paxton. The man was sitting in his office, elegantly built in both function and form and sporting the dark, yet curiously inviting interior befitting of a nightclub owner. A wooden desk, leather armchairs, leather couch and a drink station adorned the setting along with a few other amenities. The walls that blocked him from the dance floor were made from thick frosted glass, and sound proofed so that only the dull thumping of the bass broke through. The intent of this office being on the opposite side from Tate was to give the ambience that the two young co-owners [i]despised[/i] each other. This wasn’t [i]entirely[/i] far from the truth, but it more-so enhanced their ongoing rivalry. Like a game of chess, strategically countering one another: white king vs black. Which one was who, was up for the patrons to decide. 

For all intents and purposes though, it was not just his office, but his second home… Which had become more true given his co-owner’s decision to form a partnership with Spectrum, had left Joshua running a little more ragged than usual.

[color=Indianred]“What the hell do you mean, it’s going to be late?!”[/color] For example: this shipment of high end liquor and kegs that Tate desperately wanted, but chose to go against [b]his[/b] advice on waiting until the partnership had actually fallen through. [color=Indianred]“Oh! The roads are that bad, yeah?!”[/color] A freak blizzard came out of nowhere in the midwest, causing the trucks to be delayed, [color=Indianred]“I’m well fucking aware that weather happens! Take a step outside once in a while and maybe a fucking rock will come flying at your face! You prick!”[/color] 

Oooh boy, he was definitely feeling it: little to no sleep, wrinkled clothes and a five o’clock shadow will do that to you. He was already his third whiskey in and it wasn’t even noon. [color=Indianred]“Frankly, Princess, I don’t give a damn! If you don’t get me this shipment by the end of the week, it's your ass! You get that, right?!”[/color] Pawns almost gone, pieces are dwindling, and to top the icing on the cake, he stole his queen: Lena, the best damn bartender on this side of Boston. She had the idea of becoming a house mom and giving up the bar as her primary form of income. She was the damn reason the bar made as much money at night as it did! From his perspective, Tate was aiming for a ‘Check’ in this match.

As if to dampen his mood more, his door started being knocked on rather hard. [color=Indianred][i]“OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE![/i] I’m busy, FUCK OFF, TATE!!!”[/color] Tate could go pump sand for all he cared at this point, he had work to do. [color=Indianred]”No, not you dipshit! This conversation ain’t over yet!”[/color] he shouted into the phone.

For the second time in the day, Stephanie showed her lack of manners by shamelessly barging into Joshua’s office without being invited to do so. [color=B30A69]“It’s me, babe, not your dumbass cousin,”[/color] she declared as she shut and locked the door behind her, marched into the room and plopped herself in one of the armchairs facing the desk. [color=B30A69]“I need attention.”[/color]

Huh...unexpected, his brows went from shock back into just slightly pissed, [color=Indianred]“Don’t matter. I’m busy. Piss off.”[/color] He was acting about as good as he looked right now, practically a mess as he tore into the phone again, swivelling his chair away from his employee, [color=Indianred]“Look, just throw some fuckin’ chains on those bad boys and run the goddamn booze up here! How hard is it to drive a fuckin’ truck!”[/color] Noticing she hadn’t moved yet, he waved his hand to the door, brushing her off, [color=Indianred]“You want attention. Sweetheart? Go talk to one of the other girls. That’s what I literally pay them for. Better yet: go stare into a mirror. At least that way it’s free.”[/color]

[color=B30A69]“What the fuck is up with you Paxton men this morning?!”[/color] she cried out, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Stephanie was [b]not[/b] leaving the room until she got what she wanted from at least one of her bosses, and most certainly didn’t care if the person who Josh was speaking to heard her. [color=B30A69]“I wish I knew what stick crawled up both your asses this morning, or is it just ‘let’s be assholes to Spice’ day? Because I wish I would have gotten the fucking memo!”[/color]

[color=Indianred]“Christ almighty! Listen, bub, it's your lucky day! I have an in-house problem right now, but you better believe I’m calling back!”[/color] he swung around rapidly in his chair, [color=Indianred]’Cause right now, your ass is grass, AND I’M THE FUCKIN’ MOWER!!!”[/color] He slammed the phone, before turning all his attention at the female across his desk, [color=Indianred]“What. In the FUCK. Do you want?!”[/color] he shouted through gritted teeth, [color=Indianred]“Do you know how much of a fuckin’ mess my cousin has gotten me into?! I’m trying to run a business, plan an event, coordinate with entertainment, logistic-stchicking booze halfway from across the country, to something that I’m not even sure is actually happening yet.”[/color] The whole time, he’s smacking the back of his hand into his open palm, as if to accentuate each verse. Tearing away from his desk, he’s pacing back and forth. [color=Indianred]“My ‘stick’, if you will, is a log named Tate Fuckin’ Paxton, who’s really bustin’ my balls. And to top it off, stealing one of [i]my[/i] girls!”[/color] he emphasised, pointing at himself before pointing at her. [color=Indianred]“to be your emotional hand-holder. So, forgive me, dear, if I’m a little fuckin’ livid!”[/color]

Instead of lashing out right back at her boss, Spice could feel her eyes start to tear up again. As much as she tried, she couldn’t understand why the hell were both Josh and Tate in such bad moods, or why they were choosing to take it out on her of all people. She decided that maybe the best idea was to simply call it a day and leave things be.

[color=B30A69]“Whatever. It’s fine. I’ll just get out of your way then. I’m sorry I’m being such a bother today,”[/color] Stephanie finally muttered before getting up and heading towards the door.

Breathing heavily, his tirade over, he felt a small pang of guilt at just letting loose on his employee, but the stress had been building up. Taking a deep breath and downing his whiskey, he sighed, before pouring another glass and downing that one too. Slowly he placed the glass upside down on the table before smoothing out his hair and walking towards her, a gentle hand on her shoulder. [color=Indianred]“I’m sorry... My cousin’s a prick and I haven’t gotten any real sleep in four days, so I’m a little on edge. Stay a minute, won’t you?”[/color] Releasing his grip on her, letting her decide to stay or go, he made his way back to his chair and sat in it, sighing in discomfort. [color=Indianred]“Look, I’ll give you the time of day. What did he do now, and what sense do I have to talk him into?”[/color] His gaze was somewhat calculating, but one of concern. To lose out on two employees in one morning would be a disaster, lest he hear shit from his cousin for running out one of their dancers.

Letting out a sigh, Spice turned on her heel and trudged back to the seat she’d just been in less than a minute ago. It didn’t take long for her to pour out her heart to Josh, words coming up in a stream of emotions that were begging to be released. [color=B30A69]“It’s just… Tate and I had a really good thing going on before you guys hired me here. I’m not saying we were talking a relationship or anything serious like that - God knows you can never tie down a man like that - , but we messed around a lot and we both liked the silent agreement that was going on. So when I got the job, my first obvious question for him was if this meant things would change between us, and he fucking [i]promised me[/i] that they wouldn't. And now, fast forward to a few weeks, he’s suddenly acting as if nothing ever happened and I’m just another one of the bunch!”[/color] she stated, using hand gestures to gesticulate as her voice was steadily rising along with her annoyance and anger about the whole thing. [color=B30A69]“And that’s not all, of course: the asshole has the nerve to fucking blow me off everytime I try to confront him about it! How do you even deal with shit like that?! It pisses me the fuck off!”[/color]

A brow raised, he answered rather shortly, [color=Indianred]“Honestly? Whiskey…”[/color] And with that he raised his form up, trudged over to the bar and poured his buzzed self another glass, making sure to pour one for the poor girl before him. Then, as he resumed his position in front of her, making sure to shove the clean glass in front of her, he recounted her position. [color=Indianred]“I’m not sure what you’re expecting here… You want me to tell my cousin that his gonads need a fine polish in the one machine willing to clean them?[/color] Taking a strong sip of the brown liquid, he breathed heavily. [color=Indianred]“Frankly, darling, once my cousin has his mind set on something, there’s no turning back or going around it. All I can do is follow along his railroad tracked mind. Something you might have to get used to.”[/color] Another sip, [color=Indianred]“My advice: find yourself another train to ride. ‘Cause if this one’s full up of guff, you might be out of luck.”[/color] Tate could be harsh, sure, but like he said: once he had his mind set on something, it was hard to fall out of line. You just had to make sure you didn’t burn in the sun behind his caravan.

As Stephanie took the whiskey glass that was offered to her from the desk, she mulled over what Josh had just said. If there was somebody in this world who knew Tate inside and out, it would most certainly be his cousin. So, obviously, she had to trust what he was saying. In other circumstances, Spice would have ignored all advice given to her and, like the stubborn girl that she was, would have continued to fight a long-lost battle. But with Tate, it was easy to see that the fight was not worth it. It didn’t mean that she would be giving up [i]completely[/i], of course. Instead, she would find [i]other[/i] ways to achieve her goals, while getting extra benefits for herself in the process.

Just like that, a lightbulb went off in her head. It was an idea that would be considered incredibly scummy by most, but would it really be [i]that[/i] bad if they were never serious in the first place? Spice thought not.

Smirking now, Stephanie downed the whiskey in the glass in one shot and stood up from her chair, a gleam of determination in her brown eyes. [color=B30A69]“So if you’re saying that Tate’s a lost cause, do you have any idea of what other trains I can be riding off into the sunset?”[/color] she asked in a kittenish voice, walking over around the desk to Josh’s side and taking a seat on it.

His eyebrow further raised, he couldn’t help but wonder… No… She couldn’t be… But maybe…

A light bulb settled in his own head. He and Tate had their differences, sure, but even this could be crossing of the line of their rivalry. Even so, his cousin had been fucking him in the ass for the past week. Wouldn’t it be so poetic if he could do the same to one of his baggages?

[color=Indianred][i]‘Perhaps the white queen could be of some benefit here’[/i][/color]

A small smile creeped up Josh’s lips, almost Grinch-like, as he reached for a remote. [color=Indianred]“I don’t even know what you could possibly mean, [i]Kitten[/i],”[/color] he said, a homage to his cousin’s belittling of the dancer, while a button pressed and a bed suddenly unfurled itself from the wall. [color=Indianred]“I suppose the Amtrak is always an option.”[/color]. As he stood, just tall enough above her, his dark eyes were piercing every fiber of her being. [color=Indianred]“But I know of one caboose just raring to let their steam out, maybe even two.”[/color] Eyes locked onto hers, he lifted a finger just below her chin, raising it to meet his own. [color=Indianred]“I don’t suppose you’ll be needing a ticket?”[/color] Sure it was getting a little corny, but both she and Tate had this coming: their purple thread, nearly centimeters apart from one another. 

Well, fuck. This was going a hell of a lot better than what she had anticipated.

Not only was Josh interested in the thinly-veiled proposition Spice had just made him, but he seemed to be absolutely willing to be an active participant of it. As if his words weren’t enough, he backed them up with actions: summoning the bed from the wall with the push of a button and making her temporarily breathless when their eyes met. Stephanie didn’t dare say a word, afraid that if she did she would somehow disrupt the sexual tension that was suddenly filling the room. The single finger gently raising her chin up to face him sent feelings of wanting, desire and lust down her body, all of them enhanced by the purple string that bind them together. 

Instead of saying anything, Spice offered Joshua her most sultry, irresistible smile, slowly licking her top lip with the tip of her tongue. She knew that would be enough for him to know exactly where her mind was at.

His eyes traced her lips before looking back at her. [color=Indianred]”I’ll take that as a yes, then,”[/color] he said before sweeping the broad off her feet and gently tossing her onto the now fully extended bed. Josh wasted no time in climbing atop her, lustful eyes staring at her every curve before he gave Stephanie the attention she needed. [color=Indianred]“Don’t worry, my darling: all your worries will soon come to an end. After all, I’m [i]very[/i] good at what I do.”[/color] 

The Spice in front of him may feel she had won this match. But the truth was that the early bird gets the worm, and he was the hawk to her caterpillar. She played right into him; right into Tate’s dopey and delicate heart. He’d bed the queen of white only to strike a deafening blow to his cousin the king. [color=Indianred]”Counter-check and subsequently...Mate….[/color]
[b][/b]