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Of Corporate Scandals

Chapter 25. Hotheaded

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Annabeth was infuriated with herself. He'd done it again. And she'd fallen for it. Again.

She smacked Percy's hand away as he wrapped an arm around her waist, spooning her, but he just held her tighter. She glared at the wall she was facing on the bed and he mumbled into her hair.

"So that makes what? On my desk, on your desk, the copier, the elevator, the bathroom of that restaurant, the golf course, all over my apartment, ooh that one bench in Central Park, and now a boatt. Kinky."

"You're a pig."

"A pig that you love."

"Shut it, Jackson. I'm still mad at you."

"But we just had make up sex—"

"—No," She cut him off, "We didn't. We had angry hate sex." She hated him, but that didn't mean she didn't like how warm and cuddly she felt as he spooned her. "And that in no way means that I forgive you. I'm still infuriated with you."

Percy buried his face in her hair, "That's fine because I'm still mad at you too. This fight isn't over, babe."

"Don't call me babe and don't talk to me," Annabeth mumbled, glaring at the ceiling.

"Sure, no talking is required," Percy kissed up the column of her neck.

She hated when he did this. Percy and Annabeth fought all the time. Mostly harmless banter over tiny little things. They butt heads often but that just gave truth to the saying 'opposites attract.'

It would almost seem like they enjoyed arguing. They threw their wit and sarcasm like darts. Besides, their little spats usually ended in fantastic make up sex with no real winner to resovle the argument.

When they fought, Percy always gets really close, close enough that she can feel his hot breath on her face. They argue, staring each other hard in the eyes.

And somehow she always finds herself in his arms, or, in this case, in a bed on a yacht. She can never claim her victory because Percy claims that a kiss is automatic forfeit for both sides. Not winning infuriates her.

And she did it again.

"I hate you," Annabeth said weakly.

"No you don't," Percy yawned, detaching himself from her and stretching, "but I hate you, too."

Annabeth rolled over and watched him as he climbed out of the bed, "And I'm still mad at you."

"I know."

Percy climbed out of the bed and began rummaging through the tangled sheets.

Annabeth grabbed his boxers and threw them at him, aiming for his face. Percy caught them, grinning, "Thanks."

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

Annabeth leaned her head on Percy's shoulder as their town car zipped across the Queensboro Bridge.

They didn't talk much on the ride into Manhattan, exhausted from their travel. In the past twenty-four hours, they'd ridden a boat, a plane, and now a car trying to get home.

Besides, they were still in a fight.

Annabeth stared out the window at the grand East Side skyline. She'd only lived in New York City for a few years, but the city was home in a way that California never was – despite the fact that she grew up there. Like so many people, New York was where she came to find herself — through her studies, her designs, her career.

Yet as the driver turned onto Fifth Avenue, she'd never felt more lost.

She stared up at the Open Seas Inc. tower.

"So is this going to become a regular thing now?" Annabeth hissed as she slid on an oversized pair of shades and tucked the last stray wisps of blonde hair up into her large hat, "Because I'm going to get really sick of sneaking into back entrances."

Percy pulled the brim of his baseball cap low over his eyes. He shushed her.

Annabeth gaped, "Don't shush me."

Percy rolled his eyes, "Do you want to be caught, Annabeth?"

"No."

"Then come on. And disguises are fun. Like a spy movie.

She rolled her eyes.

As soon as their driver had pulled them up to their office, they soon realized that hordes of paparazzi were waiting around the building. The poor doormen and building security guarded the lobby, but the sidewalk was fair game.

"Oh, gods," Annabeth groaned, "I thought we left this in Miami."

"Nope," Percy said, unamused, "The worst of it is here."

Percy had their driver bring them to the loading entrance behind the building.

"Let's just go home, Percy. Wait them out. There's no use being here. We won't get any work done." Annabeth was trying to convince herself more than Percy.

It was true, but not getting any work completed wasn't the main reason she dreaded entering the office building. Their secluded few days on the boat had been a buffer between the damage their released paparazzi photos had caused. There was no doubt the entire office knew about them by now.

"We have to face everyone now. The longer we delay, the bigger the fallout.

She hated when he used logic against her better judgment – even if it was kind of hot.

So that's how they found themselves in the service corridor in the back of the building.

Annabeth would never admit it outloud, but she did feel like a spy. However, twelve flights of stairs and a lot of cursing later, that was the last thing on Annabeth's mind.

"I hate you, Percy," Annabeth panted. She pushed her sweat darkened bangs out of her face, "This is all your fault." The concrete steps of the stairway were steep.

"How is this my fault?" Percy said as they made it up the last flight to the first working and free service elevator.

"If you hadn't insisted we go to the beach and seduced me into kissing you, they wouldn't have released those photos and we wouldn't be in this mess and have to take the damn stairs!" Annabeth knew this wasn't true at all, but her frustration and exhaustion was clouding her judgment and she just needed someone to blame.

Yes, the most condemning of the photos were from the beach, but there were dozens from other places."

"What about the balcony pictures, hmm?" Percy shot back as he jammed his finger into the up button on the elevator panel, "Who thought it'd be romantic to kiss on the balcony? That wasn't me."

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy that."

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy making out on the beach."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, blowing her bangs out of her eyes, frustrated. She looked at Percy standing across from her. He had loosened his tie, but he didn't look even slightly winded from walking up the stairs. She crossed her arms and muttered, "You try walking up the stairs in heels."

"What was that?" He looked over at her.

"Nothing," she snapped.

Ding! The elevator opened and the couple stepped inside. "You're just grumpy because you're tired and you don't want to see everyone upstairs. I know how you feel."

"No you don't," she grumbled.

"Yes, I do," Percy said, amused by his girlfriend's stubbornness. "You're embarrassed to see everyone, and probably kind of scared because you don't know how they'll react, and you hate not knowing. So you're taking it out on me. Plus the stairs made your feet hurt. I'll give you a foot massage when we get home."

He took her hand, "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I hate you." She was so annoyed at how well he knew her.

Percy kissed her knuckles. She yanked her hand away, "Oh no you don't. You're right about that foot massage, but I'm still mad at you."

Percy rolled his eyes. What a hothead.

Ding! The doors opened up onto the main office floor as Annabeth rattled off tasks they should do first. Percy had expected it to be bustling around with all of his employees, but the whole floor was empty. Even Annabeth's new intern who answered the phone and was always glued to her desk was absent.

Percy checked his watch, noon — lunch hour.

"Are you even listening to me, Percy?" Annabeth said, straightening her blouse as she strode into the office.

"Of course I am, why would I ever not listen to you," He said, dryly, maybe a little grin peeking out at the corner of his lips.

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated right now. Or ever."

Percy chuckled, strolling past all of the empty desks towards his office.

"And where the hell is everyone?"

"It's noon, Annabeth. Lunch time."

She huffed, probably ready to make a witty remark about his break policy, but he held up his hand. Annabeth glared at him, incredulous that he cut her off yet again.

"Do you hear that?" Percy asked, looking around the office.

"Hear what?" She stopped in her tracks in front of Percy's office and cocked her ear, "Yeah…voices."

Percy stopped and listened again. He swore he could hear conversation in his office, but no one would be in there except he or Annabeth.

Annabeth pushed her way past him, "There's definitely someone in there." Percy followed her.

"This is so like you! I can't believe I didn't expect this because you are so utterly predictable."

"Me?" The other voice roared, "Predictable?"

"Yes! You're reckless and have no sense of responsibility. I should've known that your spawn would be exactly like you."

"Don't act like you haven't done anything wrong here. You are just as much to blame."

As Annabeth barged into his office, Percy's stomach dropped. There stood his father, Poseidon Jackson, CEO of Open Seas International, facing off with a tall, dark-haired woman. Her face looked so familiar, yet he couldn't for the life of him think of anyone who would be brave (or stupid) enough to argue with his father.

He looked at Annabeth who had her hand on the doorknob. She seemed to be thinking the same thing because she looked pale.

His father and the woman looked up from the interruption. Poseidon's face was red with fury and the women scowled at him with piercing gray eyes.

"Dad, what is going—" Percy started to say as Annabeth shoved past him.

"Mom?"

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A/N: (Revised May 2022) Take a shot every time someone rolls their eyes.