The One That Got Away

Chapter Fifty-Eight

For those of you who read the Get Your Southern On contest entries, this is my contribution. I am tickled at the results ... first place in public vote and third place for the judge's choice. I've decided to break this up into smaller, drabblish chapters and it will be continued. The contest contribution is the first six or so chapters, roughly. I don't know how long it will be, but I do have it planned. Thank you to Bridget for betaing this for me and for Clo, who created the banner.

Okay, I need a shower after writing about Tanya. I mean, ewww! *Shudders* Anyway, what will happen to the skank? What will this mean for her? You'll find out next chapter and yeah ...

Tanya snuck back into Reynold's bed, falling asleep. She was exhausted from her exploits. As she snuggled against him, Reynold could smell another man's cologne and he stewed.

Jenks had called him back almost immediately after he reached out to his attorney. Between Reynold and his other lucrative client, Edward Cullen, he was rolling in the dough with the two of them. Reynold explained his concerns and Tanya was going to be homeless, penniless and thrown out like the trash she was.

When Tanya tried to cuddle with Reynold, he growled, getting out of bed and going to the guest bedroom. The next morning, Reynold severed all ties with Tanya. He removed her from his accounts and discontinued her credit cards. He changed all the passwords to his computers and online accounts. He also had his staff pack up Tanya's belongings, putting them into garbage bags. He was going to give her the Lexus SUV she drove around, but after that, he was washing his hands of her. Sitting calmly, drinking his coffee, he watched as Tanya flit down into the kitchen, wearing a flimsy negligee, leaving little to the imagination. "Good morning, baby," she chirped, walking over to him.

Reynold got up, staring at her coldly. "Don't."

"What's wrong?" Tanya asked, pouting her lip and blinking up at him. "Didn't I make you feel good last night?"

"I'm not the only person who you made feel good," Reynold growled. "I may be old, but I'm not fucking stupid."

"Excuse me?" she squeaked, appearing innocent. "What are you talking about?"

Reynold, who was normally mild-mannered, roared and threw his coffee mug across the kitchen and watching it splatter along the crisp white walls of his mansion. "I saw you. You fucked Michael. I watched you. I smelled his cologne on you. He's fired, by the way. I sent him back to wherever hole he came from and if you're lucky, he'll help you."

"Reynold?" she gasped. "I'm not sure I understand."

"You have five minutes to finish packing your shit and get the fuck out of my house," he hissed. "I'm done with you. My daughter told me that you were nothing but a whore and that I was thinking with my dick. I tried to see past it all, but after last night? My daughter was right. You are a whore."

"Where am I supposed to go?" Tanya cried. "My parents ... they disowned me when I ..."

"When you gave up your children?" Reynold sneered. Tanya's eyes widened in shock. "You think I didn't know? I suggested Nixon because he's the best. And he found some dirt on you." He plopped a thick file that Nixon had compiled about Tanya. "And unlike you, I can afford to pay him without whoring myself out."

"What?!" Tanya shrieked. "That was supposed to be our secret, mine and Nixon's!"

"Well, Nixon was my employee first and is still my employee," Reynold said, crossing his arms. "And tick tock. You've got three minutes until I call the police about you trespassing."

Tanya spluttered, darting up to the bedroom she used as her closet, finding it completely empty. She went into the bathroom, tossing her makeup and beauty supplies into her purses. As she ran down the stairs, she saw Reynold on the phone. She tugged it away from his hand, hanging up on whomever was on the other line. "I'm leaving. No need for theatrics," she snarled.