by Alina Jacobs
I would be mad at Marnie, but Anke was so manipulative. She could lull people into a state of complacency and make them think she was their best friend and they should spill all their secrets to her. I tried to stay calm.
"I need that money, Anke. You promised," I reiterated.
"Darling, I will give it to you. I promise. I have a plan for the money. We're friends! I didn't forget about you." She kissed me once on each cheek. "It was delightful to see you. We should go out for a drink. It would be just like old times."
As I drove back to PharmaTech in a daze, I wondered if I should tell Mace. But I shut that thought down. He had enough on his plate, and he finally had started to see me as someone capable and competent. I knew Mace was concerned about Payslee harming his family. I didn't want him to think I was a problem too.
Besides, I thought, trying to relax my grip on the steering wheel. Anke never stays that long somewhere. She's probably going to be gone tomorrow. This will all work itself out. Right?
42
Mace
I was glad I could count on Josie to finish up that marketing project. At least she was someone I could lean on. Though my brothers were passably useful, it was hard being responsible for everyone. Hunter had been scarce lately, and it felt good to have a partner in Josie.
I spent all morning down at the police station with Hunter and Greg, who had driven in.
The chief of police looked at us over her glasses. "She's his mother. Unlike the other children, he's not legally yours."
"I have guardianship papers," Hunter said. "They were signed by Henry's—and my—father."
The police chief sighed. "Yes, but she's his mother. Once she presents me with the proper paperwork and proof of residency, I'm legally obligated to turn the child over to her. I'm sorry."
Meg was in the lobby when we walked out of the station.
"Hunter," she said, her face displaying concern, "Susie told me what happened. I don't understand. Why does she want him back? You can't let that happen."
She stroked Hunter's arm, and he seemed to sag into her touch.
"Meg," he said, grabbing her hand. "I know you hate me, but please, you have to help me."
"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand. Then she seemed to realize what she was doing and suddenly released it. She cleared her throat, and I saw her professional mask fall back into place.
"Why can't you pay Payslee to let you adopt him?" she said. "That would be the easiest route."
"Tried it already," Hunter said. "Someone else is pulling her strings."
I was feeling sick when I returned to the office.
Archer was sitting cross-legged on top of my desk, eating a soup muffin. A large box of them was next to him.
"I brought sustenance, curtesy of Chloe," he said, holding out the half-eaten muffin.
"Here to harass me?" I asked more tersely than I meant.
Archer dusted off his hands, crumbs scattering over my keyboard. They would never come out.
"I needed to make sure you wouldn't do anything rash, like move everyone into Remy's bunker," Archer said. "Also I think I've chosen a site for my new hotel and conference center."
"Oh yeah?" I asked, taking a muffin. It had little bits of meat in it and a gooey, cheesy center.
"It's cheesesteak flavored," Archer said. "Chloe invented them just for me."
"It's surprisingly good," I admitted, taking another bite.
Archer sighed happily. "She said she froze the Cheez Whiz and put it in the center before baking in order to make it explode cheese like that. I'm trying to convince her to put a franchise here and cater for the conference center."
"What site did you choose?" I asked, snagging another muffin.
"The old Mast Brothers' Chocolate factory," he said, pointing out the window to the hulking complex on the north side of town.
"I hope you change the name," I said. "Mast—it sounds a little dirty."
"Only to filthy minds," Archer said. "You want to dip your mast in chocolate? You better not hear Josie hear you talk like that."
"She loves candy," I said, smirking. "She would really go for it."
"Who are you, and did someone replace you with me?" Archer asked, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
"Hardly," I said as my phone beeped in my pocket.
"Is that her?" Archer demanded. "I can tell it is. Your face looks all melty. I should stick a bar of chocolate on your head and call it fondue."
I ignored him and read her message.
Josie: Sorry you're feeling stressed. If Payslee tries to take Henry I'll pack him up in my tiny house and head to Mexico. We'll live like hippies on the beach. Also did you know they invented chocolate? Sweet fact of the day! Here's another treat for you. I was saving it as a reward but I think you've earned it.
There was an attachment, and I watched as it loaded.
"Holy smokes," I said and quickly shoved the phone back into my pocket.
"She sent you a naughty picture, didn't she?" Archer asked in mock outrage. "No, don't show me. I need to retain the image of you as pure, virginal snow. I'll leave you alone with your lustful thoughts." He snatched up the box of muffins and waltzed out, humming that song from the Willy Wonka movie about pure imagination.
I took the phone out of my pocket and stared at the picture. There was Josie. I knew it was her even though she had cropped off her face. I recognized her tits, the curve of her stomach, and the pink flesh between her legs that she spread with her fingers. Her other hand held a large purple lollipop down very close to that glistening pink flesh.
You know where I want your blow pop, the caption stated in loopy cursive text. Funny and sexy, it was pure Josie.
43
Josie
"Did you receive my message?" I asked Mace when I walked into the office after lunch. The naughty picture had been a spur-of-the-moment decision with me, as most things were. I hoped it didn't explode in my face, though I supposed I wouldn't mind if Mace exploded in my face.
"I did," he said. His grin was downright predatory as he followed me into my adjoining office. I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop.
"I was going to work up here for a few hours," I told him. "That conference room is getting claustrophobic, and I just need to concentrate and knock this out."
"Uh-huh."
"So you should probably go back to whatever you were doing," I prompted. He came up next to me as I opened up the vector illustrator program on my computer.
"You can't send me a picture like that and not expect that it would completely derail my afternoon," Mace said, bending down. His cheek was next to mine but not touching, and I could feel the slight warmth radiating off of him.
"I didn't know you found me that distracting," I teased.
"Oh I think you know that I find you very distracting," he breathed in my ear. I shivered.
"Did you know," he asked, leaning over me, one hand on the desk, the other sliding slowly down my back, "that we specifically had the architect put in glass walls to deter people from fucking in the offices?"
"I did not know that, though it seems like a good call to make." Having him that close to me was starting to make me a little distracted. His hand was sliding lower and lower.
"You probably don't want your employees fucking in the office, do you?" I asked. His hand was at the waistband of my skirt, and he slowly worked his hand under the wide band. I inadvertently spread my legs a little wider. He smirked against my neck. "I can't believe anyone would be so unprofessional and, frankly, have so little control that they just had to screw in plain sight when anyone could walk in." I tried to not sound so needy, but his fingers were under my panties now. One. Two. Three. They started to slowly stroke me, and I gripped the desk.
"Yes," Mace said, "but some offices, like yours actually, now that I think about it, have things like a plant or bookshelves that conveniently block the view from unsuspecting bystanders."
"It is very convenient," I gasped as
he stroked me, teasing my clit.
"But since you're up here, let's talk about how your organizing is going," Mace said, his tone annoyingly casual for what he was doing to me.
"What?" I asked, clamping down a moan. My hips rocked into his hand. I tried not to look like I was in the middle of a workplace affair with my boss. Though there was a large plant and a couple of chairs blocking the bottom half of the glass wall, someone walking by could still see inside.
"Did you create the snack survey?" Mace asked, his tone professional as his hand did naughty things to me. I felt his fingers play in my opening, and I closed my eyes, tipping my head back.
"Eyes open," Mace whispered into my ear, nibbling it slightly. "Look at your computer screen. We're just having a normal professional conversation."
"Normal conversation," I repeated. My voice sounded breathy, and in the blank screen of my laptop, I could see my own reflection and Mace's smug one.
"Yes. For example, would you like me to add your favorite snack to the breakrooms?"
"You're my favorite snack," I said. I could feel my heart racing.
"I'm not a snack food," he said. "I'm a main course."
"You're dessert," I said. Mace chuckled, and his fingers moved faster, making this little twisty motion like he was spinning taffy. He was spinning me into a tizzy. I gripped the desk with both hands, my legs splayed as much as I could without ripping my skirt.
His fingers were stroking faster, and my head tipped forward slightly as I bit down on a moan.
"This," he said as his fingers worked me, rubbing my clit then pausing to slide down in the wetness and push into my opening. "This is just a snack. It's just something to whet your appetite."
"Consider it wet," I told him. The words came out in a high-pitched whimper. I licked my lips, and he leaned in to quickly kiss me hard on the mouth as I ground against his hand.
"You need to get me new underwear after this," I gasped.
Mace laughed and said, "Only if I get to keep these."
He increased the rhythm, stroking my clit with two fingers. My hips made little rotating motions.
"I can't wait for you to do this on my cock," he said in my ear. "Fucking you in that tight, hot little pussy. I'll bend you over and fuck you slowly until you feel every hard inch." His fingers moved faster, and I panted as he dirty-talked into my ear.
"I'd like to fuck you in front of a mirror," he whispered, voice low in my ear, "grab your hips, and do it real slow and watch you touch yourself. You'll come, but I'll still be fucking you."
I moaned, my head tipping down.
"Eyes forward," he said to my reflection in the laptop screen. The thought of us doing it in front of a mirror, locking eyes like that while he pounded into me sent me over the edge. Mace clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the scream as I came, the pleasure rolling over me in waves.
I leaned back in the chair, my chest heaving. Mace smiled at me and licked his hand. "Sweet as candy," he said.
"Next time you do that," I said after a moment and after I had caught my breath, "I want you to suck my tits."
"Do you want me to bend you over and fuck you right here?" Mace growled.
"Oh yeah," I told him, opening my eyes slightly to peer back at him. "I definitely want you to fuck me right here."
For a moment I thought he was going to be the one throwing caution to the wind and YOLO fucking me right there in the office. And I would have loved every minute of it.
Fortunately Mace at least had some self-control because Tara chose that moment to knock on his office door.
"Mace!" she chirped. "I have some great news." Mace rushed out to greet her while I stood up more slowly. My panties were soaking wet. I tried to rearrange my skirt as best I could, but I still felt the aftereffects of his hand on me, and I was wobbly in my heels.
"Oh, Josie," Tara said. I could tell from her face she knew immediately what we had been up to. The petty part of me was glad.
"I was just telling Mace that I took the liberty of finding him a new assistant," she said.
"You did?"
"Since Josie is so busy with the marketing project," Tara said, "you still need an assistant. I have the perfect person. She's just outside."
Mace nodded.
Tara poked her head out of the office door and called, "Come on in, Anke."
What? Uh no. Nope. This can NOT be happening. Except it was.
"Meet Anke," Tara said as Anke strutted into the room in a black dress with a hemline that skirted on unprofessional and a pair of mile-high stilettos. "She comes highly recommended."
"Recommended by whom?" I shot out.
Mace and Tara looked at me.
"Don't worry," Anke cooed. She had dyed her blond hair brown and wore a pair of glasses that I remembered she had talked me into putting on my credit card.
"I've worked with several international banks, and I'm very familiar dealing with high-powered men." She smiled coyly at Mace. "I'm interested to see how the Svensson males do business."
44
Mace
Josie looked between Anke and Tara. I couldn't tell what was going on. Josie wasn't jealous, was she? My hand was just up her skirt, surely she could tell where my loyalties lay. But maybe not.
"Are you sure this is necessary?" I asked Tara.
"No," Josie interjected, her face dark.
"But you're busy," Tara said sweetly. "We need Josie to be successful with this marketing campaign. There's a lot of money riding on it. She shouldn't be splitting her time between you and the marketing push."
"It's just a temporary arrangement," I told Josie.
"Or maybe not!" Tara said with a laugh. "I suspect now that you've been bitten by the marketing bug, you won't want to go back to being Mace's little ol' assistant, will you?" Tara asked, turning to Josie.
Josie pursed her lips. "I just don't know if Anke is qualified."
"She has references from the Holbrooks," Tara said to me. "I talked to one of the assistants over there. I can put her on the phone with you…"
"Please don't," I said. "I would never hear the end of it if Hunter and especially Greg found out I was talking to the Holbrooks. He'd go on for weeks about us having to owe them a favor or something. If you've verified her experience, that's good enough for me."
I turned to Josie. "This could be a good thing. Your talents are much better spent elsewhere than organizing the supply closet or fetching coffee."
Josie nodded unhappily. I didn't understand what she was angry about.
"I need to go finish working on the marketing project," she said, not meeting my eye.
"But before you do," Tara said, "could you just give Anke a quick run-through of what you've been working on? Then, yes, please go back downstairs. We don't want to keep you."
Garrett knocked on the open door. Henry was next to him. For once the young boy was silent. He looked scared.
"We need to go down to the courthouse," Garrett said. "There have been developments. Meg finagled us an audience with a judge."
Tara grabbed my arm. "I hope everything is all right!"
"It will be," I assured her. Josie had a flat expression on her face. I wondered if she was mad about our naughty session. But I had other things to obsess over.
"Hunter's down there already," Garrett said as I picked Henry up and snuggled him to my chest.
"I don't want to go back," he said in a small voice.
"Hush," I said. "That's not going to happen."
Meg and Hunter were waiting in the lobby for us when we arrived at the ornate courthouse building. Our footsteps echoed in the marble floors and bounced off the high ceilings as we made our way to the courtroom.
When we walked in, Payslee was already there, sulking on one of the long wooden benches. Her lawyer was next to her, mopping at his face with a handkerchief. She called to Henry, but he shrank against me.
The judge was a thin woman. Though she was small, she perched in her seat like a bird of prey.
>
"Edna is Ida's sister," Meg whispered. "So I hope none of you pissed her or Ida off recently."
"As much as I loathe the Svenssons," the judge said after calling the courtroom to order. She peered at us over her glasses. "More so do I loathe women who dump their children off willy-nilly on unsuspecting citizens. I obviously do not have the authority to unilaterally terminate Payslee's rights as a parent at this moment. However, since the child was found technically abandoned in the train station, I am making him a ward of the state. Henry Svensson?"
"Yes?" my brother answered, his eyes wide and his voice small.
"You are now a ward of the city of Harrogate and officially in foster care," Judge Edna said. "Hunter Svensson, as his brother and a licensed foster parent, you will be a kinship placement while Payslee goes through reunification process."
"But that's not fair!" Payslee shouted. "He's my son."
"And you have to prove to this court that you are a fit mother," Judge Edna said, turning her piercing gaze onto Payslee. I winced, and Payslee shrank. I did not want that judge on my bad side.
"You need to have an apartment," the judge continued to address Payslee, "and a job and test negative for drugs. Until that time—usually it takes about four to six weeks—you will be allowed supervised visits with Henry."
"Sorry," Meg said after we left. "I know it's not exactly what we were hoping for."
"Please," I told her. "You were so helpful."
"Especially after what Hunter did," Garrett snapped. Hunter's jaw was tense.
Meg sighed. "It will buy you some time at least."
"That's all I need," Garrett said. I was glad he sounded confident because I wasn't so sure.
45
Josie