relationship gone wrong, sexual harassment, out-of-court settlement for an obscene amount of money to keep that former employee from going public with his story... The list went on and on.
Derrick rolled his shoulders. He refused to believe any of it. "When did the fight happen, allegedly?"
"Not allegedly , boo. It went down a few weeks ago."
"I thought Chadwick was in Atlanta fighting for the right to see his kids," Derrick drawled.
"So he came to New York for a day. You know he has that private jet he uses all the time to fly his lovers back and forth, but who can blame him? He's probably using all those women to distract himself. Poor thing. Must be missing his seven kids terribly."
"Jesus Christ."
"What?"
Derrick rubbed his forehead and rested his chin on his hand. "A few minutes ago you said he has four kids," he said without clarifying how many kids Alan Chadwick actually had.
"Well, excuse me for not knowing exactly how big of a brood he has," she sing-sang.
Two kids is hardly a brood , he thought, remembering Roman had mentioned Alan and his wife were parents to a boy and a girl.
Derrick rubbed his forehead again. "So a few weeks ago, Alan Chadwick put his custody fight on hold and flew to New York in his luxurious private jet for a day so that he could meet with Sergio Acosta, who apparently also came to New York for a day from Spain, where I happen to know for a fact he's been for the past month dealing with some Merger and Acquisitions ca—"
"Spain?" Tashana interrupted him. "What do you mean, Spain? He's back to work already?" She wiped her mouth. "Mmmm Mmmm Mmm. He should still be home recovering from those stab wounds he might or might not have received."
" Tashana ."
"Sorryyy . " She took a bite of Derrick's fried chicken. "I don't know when this fight went down. Last week… three months ago… who gives a shit? It's probably all crap anyway. Where's your sense of humor today?"
"Chadwick and Acosta came to New York." Derrick glared at Tashana to keep her from interrupting him again. She was right. The rumors were probably bullshit, but he needed to know what was being said. "They met with Bradford, and during that meeting there was a screaming fight that ended with Bradford saying he was leaving ABC. And somebody actually heard this fight."
"Correct."
"Source?"
"William Fitzgerald from Antitrust and Competition."
"Unreliable."
"According to who?"
"Me," he stated, folding his arms over his chest. "Also, can I point out that no timeframe was mentioned during the alleged fight, yet you have Roman leaving the firm in January?"
"Why is this so difficult to believe? Boss Bradford has been mostly away for the past several months. Maybe he decided to make his absence permanent."
"I told you why. They're friends. I don't see Roman walking out on them."
"Sometimes people need a change."
"I honestly doubt that's the case."
"We have to decide how to proceed."
Derrick stared at his friend not so patiently until she rolled her eyes and explained herself.
"All these years you've been crushing like a teenage girl on that man and refusing to make a move on him because you think he won't give you the time of the day. You say it's because you're his employee, but I know better. What you really think is he won't pay you no mind if you go after him. And now he's leaving. We need to figure out how to get you some of that ass before he disappears forever."
It was so much more than a crush.
And Derrick didn't just think Roman wouldn't give him the time of the day. He knew .
He and Roman Bradford had coincidentally met for eight glorious days during their lunch break by The Pond in Central Park a year ago. They'd shared food and conversation and sexually charged casual touches of hands and legs, and Derrick had been over the moon, thinking the attraction went both ways.
But things had changed on the eighth day. Roman had been distracted. He'd barely munched on his food and remained quiet
Derrick rolled his shoulders. He refused to believe any of it. "When did the fight happen, allegedly?"
"Not allegedly , boo. It went down a few weeks ago."
"I thought Chadwick was in Atlanta fighting for the right to see his kids," Derrick drawled.
"So he came to New York for a day. You know he has that private jet he uses all the time to fly his lovers back and forth, but who can blame him? He's probably using all those women to distract himself. Poor thing. Must be missing his seven kids terribly."
"Jesus Christ."
"What?"
Derrick rubbed his forehead and rested his chin on his hand. "A few minutes ago you said he has four kids," he said without clarifying how many kids Alan Chadwick actually had.
"Well, excuse me for not knowing exactly how big of a brood he has," she sing-sang.
Two kids is hardly a brood , he thought, remembering Roman had mentioned Alan and his wife were parents to a boy and a girl.
Derrick rubbed his forehead again. "So a few weeks ago, Alan Chadwick put his custody fight on hold and flew to New York in his luxurious private jet for a day so that he could meet with Sergio Acosta, who apparently also came to New York for a day from Spain, where I happen to know for a fact he's been for the past month dealing with some Merger and Acquisitions ca—"
"Spain?" Tashana interrupted him. "What do you mean, Spain? He's back to work already?" She wiped her mouth. "Mmmm Mmmm Mmm. He should still be home recovering from those stab wounds he might or might not have received."
" Tashana ."
"Sorryyy . " She took a bite of Derrick's fried chicken. "I don't know when this fight went down. Last week… three months ago… who gives a shit? It's probably all crap anyway. Where's your sense of humor today?"
"Chadwick and Acosta came to New York." Derrick glared at Tashana to keep her from interrupting him again. She was right. The rumors were probably bullshit, but he needed to know what was being said. "They met with Bradford, and during that meeting there was a screaming fight that ended with Bradford saying he was leaving ABC. And somebody actually heard this fight."
"Correct."
"Source?"
"William Fitzgerald from Antitrust and Competition."
"Unreliable."
"According to who?"
"Me," he stated, folding his arms over his chest. "Also, can I point out that no timeframe was mentioned during the alleged fight, yet you have Roman leaving the firm in January?"
"Why is this so difficult to believe? Boss Bradford has been mostly away for the past several months. Maybe he decided to make his absence permanent."
"I told you why. They're friends. I don't see Roman walking out on them."
"Sometimes people need a change."
"I honestly doubt that's the case."
"We have to decide how to proceed."
Derrick stared at his friend not so patiently until she rolled her eyes and explained herself.
"All these years you've been crushing like a teenage girl on that man and refusing to make a move on him because you think he won't give you the time of the day. You say it's because you're his employee, but I know better. What you really think is he won't pay you no mind if you go after him. And now he's leaving. We need to figure out how to get you some of that ass before he disappears forever."
It was so much more than a crush.
And Derrick didn't just think Roman wouldn't give him the time of the day. He knew .
He and Roman Bradford had coincidentally met for eight glorious days during their lunch break by The Pond in Central Park a year ago. They'd shared food and conversation and sexually charged casual touches of hands and legs, and Derrick had been over the moon, thinking the attraction went both ways.
But things had changed on the eighth day. Roman had been distracted. He'd barely munched on his food and remained quiet
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