BADDY: A Small Town Crime Romance

by Nikki Wild

  “That’s true. It’s good not to get complacent, Chloe. You need variety in your life. But at the same time, Dalton Enterprises is a wonderful company to work for. Bear’s very generous. I’m sure he’ll give you the biggest benefit package he has.”

  I spat out the wine I’d just sipped into my mouth and began coughing.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked. “Chloe?”

  “I’m okay, Mom, sorry,” I replied finally. “I should go get ready.”

  Suddenly, I couldn’t handle talking to her anymore. Her questions, her talk of benefits packages—if she kept it up, she’d figure everything out very quickly. She was like that. That’s why she’d come so far in her career—her instincts were fine-tuned and cat-like and she didn’t miss a thing.

  Being a teenager around her was a nightmare. Keeping secrets was out of the question. Now that I was an adult, the last thing I wanted was for her to figure out that I’m fucking her boss.

  She would not be happy, not by a long shot. In fact, she’d be mortified.

  I had to keep it together, for both of our sake’s.

  “Alright, dear, have a nice night. Let me know what kind of a job he gives you. Maybe we’ll end up working together?”

  “Okay, Mom, I will. Good night,” I said, hanging up the phone with a sigh of relief.

  I walked back in the apartment, turning on some music and pouring another glass of wine, before heading back to my bedroom.

  I’d left all my purchases lying on the bed and as I sorted through them now, hanging the dresses and suits up in my closet and putting the delicate lingerie in the dresser, I imagined wearing all of this for Bear. I wanted to make him happy.

  Bear had told me not to buy panties, but I had anyway. I couldn’t endure an entire New York winter without wearing underwear, for fuck’s sake.

  After putting everything away, I put hot rollers in my hair and applied my make-up, my body finally beginning to relax a little with the wine. I needed it. I’d been on edge for days, unable to shake the feeling of being completely unsettled and disoriented.

  It was like aliens had beamed me up and plopped me down on a different planet.

  I didn’t know this life. I didn’t know this woman in the mirror, in fact.

  I’d grown up doing my part to fight the patriarchy, a fierce feminist throwing up my fist with my fellow sisters. I’d marched in countless protests, fighting the powers that threatened to oppress us, which mostly was made up of old, white men. In fact, I didn’t shave my legs the entire year after I turned eighteen; a silent, personal protest against the forced feminization of women. And I’d stopped wearing bras the year after that.

  And now, here I was, subserviently obeying a domineering man like a goddamned Stepford wife and loving every fucking second of it.

  Who was I? Where was the Chloe I thought I was? How could I have allowed Bear to have so much power over me?

  Was I losing myself? Or, had I just finally found myself?

  I was getting used to the constant questions swimming in my head. I was getting used to not having any answers to them, too. The confusion had become a permanent resident in my head, but maybe tonight I’d finally be able to break through them.

  Bear told me at his office that I could ask him anything I wanted and I was looking forward to our question and answer session.

  By the time my doorbell rang, I wasn’t sure I wanted answers. Not knowing what was going on created an air of mystery to everything that had left me excited. Turned out, anticipation and adventure turned me on and I didn’t even know it.

  Maybe I was finding myself after all.

  Maybe Bear was right about me.

  I opened the door and damn near swooned when I saw him.

  He was dressed in a sleek, black tailored suit, his hair slicked back and his dark blue eyes were shimmering with life.

  “Hello, Beauty,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek.

  “Hi,” I replied, a jolt of shyness washing over me. I lifted my chin, determined to keep the shy, naive Chloe at bay tonight. I wanted to project the sophisticated, daring, mature Chloe instead.

  I wanted to impress him.

  “Would you like to come in?” I asked.

  “My driver is double-parked. If you’re ready, we should get going.”

  I pushed away a twinge of disappointment and nodded and smiled. He’d fucked me right away the last two times I’d seen him, so I just assumed he would do that again.

  I guess this was a real date, after all.

  “I’m ready,” I replied. I grabbed my purse and keys, locked up the apartment and walked to the elevator with him. After a silent ride down to the street, he whisked me into the back of the limo.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked, the bright lights of the city swirling around us reflected in his eyes. I’d already had two glasses of wine to calm my nerves earlier and I was a light weight when it came to alcohol. I could hear Marie’s warning in my head, my usual drinking partner.

  “There’s a reason we call you two-drink Chloe,” she’d say. I pushed her voice away and smiled. The nerves were too much. This was definitely a three-drink night.

  “Wine, please,” I said, having the good sense not to mix the wine with anything else.

  He poured me a glass and handed it to me and I did my best to sip it slowly. Taking deep breaths between each sip, I smiled over at him.

  “How was shopping?” he asked.

  “Max took me to Bergdorf’s,” I replied. “It was a lot of fun.”

  “Bergdorf’s? How boring,” he said. “I’ll get you a list of better places.”

  “They had a huge golden tree and the place was a madhouse,” I replied.

  “It always is at this time of the year,” he nodded.

  “Did you get what you needed?” he asked, his eyes raking over the tight black dress I’d bought. I thrown a long camel colored cashmere coat over it and left it open. Thankfully, the limo was warm.

  “I did,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied, his warm hand landing on my bare knee. Shivers of pleasure shot through me and I felt the wetness seep into my panties at his touch.

  He smiled slowly and his hand began trailing up my thigh, pushing my skirt up with it. I moaned quietly as his fingers brushed against my bare skin.

  “Mmm,” he moaned approvingly. “Are you always this good at following orders?”

  “Are you always this good at giving them?” I quipped.

  He pulled his hand away and laughed.

  “I guess I am,” he said. “I’m not much for negotiating.”

  I smiled and pulled my skirt down over my thighs. He beamed back at me, then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “You look incredible, Chloe,” he said.

  “So do you,” I replied, my eyes trailing over his suit admiringly. It fit him like a glove, outlining the smooth muscles of his thighs, framing his wide shoulders perfectly.

  Of course, in my mind, I was ripping that damned suit right off of him, remembering the perfect flesh beneath it. I was much more interested in his skin and everything under that. The rest was just for show.

  “You’re sweet,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I replied, shrugging.

  “Nothing wrong with being sweet,” he said.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I replied. “Ask my mother. Sweet isn’t one of her most valued traits in a person.”

  He laughed and nodded.

  “You obviously don’t get your sweetness from her,” he said.

  “No, I don’t,” I agreed.

  “So, where do you get it?”

  “I don’t know, actually. I wouldn’t really call myself sweet, if you want to know the truth. Shy, quiet? Sure, but sweet isn’t something I’ve ever strived for. In fact, I like to think of myself in fiercer terms.”

  “Fierce?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes,” I said, raising my chin, “Contrary to how I might ap
pear to you, I’m actually a feminist.”

  “A feminist, huh?” he asked. “Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be? So am I.”

  It was my turn to laugh.

  “What?” he asked. “You think just because I like to be in control, I can’t be a feminist?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I replied. “But since you brought it up, what exactly is the deal with you?”

  He blinked, his eyes widening for a second before wrinkling up at the sides while he laughed again.

  “Oh, Chloe, you do have questions, don’t you?”

  “So many,” I smiled.

  He patted my knee and brushed a quick kiss across my lips.

  “Hold that thought,” he said. “We’re here.”

  The limo slowed in front of an old building with big iron gates surrounding a patio and a line of small jockey statues adorning the top balcony.

  “Come on,” Bear said. “It’s a little fussy and the crowd is ancient, but they have the best steak in Manhattan.”

  We slipped out of the limo and he grabbed my hand as he led me inside like he owned the place.

  Chapter 11

  The restaurant was packed. Like something out of a movie, the lights were low and the entire place was surrounded by the dark wooden panels of the walls. And Bear was right—everyone in there, except the wait staff, appeared to be at least over fifty. I hadn’t seen this much white hair since my Great Aunt Sally’s funeral last year.

  Unfortunately, the tables were insanely close together and all my dreams of asking Bear dozens of probing personal questions flew right out the door.

  We were seated right away, because as soon as the maître d’ saw Bear, he sprang into action. Bear pulled out my chair, waiting for me to sit down before sitting down himself.

  We were seated between one very old couple on our left and a couple of businessmen deep into a discussion about the stock market on our right.

  “Remember, we’re here for the steak,” Bear reminded me with a wink.

  “I guess my questions can wait till later,” I replied.

  “We have all the time in the world, Chloe,” he said, sending a shiver of electricity through my body with those piercing eyes of his. He was by far the handsomest man I’d ever seen, surpassing even my old go-to movie stars. George Clooney and Brad Pitt had nothing on this guy. “Let me order for you. You do like steak, right?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “I love it. Rare, please.”

  “Good girl,” he said, flashing me a smile. I blushed, remembering all the other times he’d called me that.

  My eyes trailed across the restaurant as he perused the menu and what a strange place it was. Dozens of old, vintage toys hung from the ceiling, which I thought was odd for such a fancy place. The waiters bustled around carrying silver platters and winding through the busy dining room. Glasses clinked and the low buzz of conversation created a frenzied energy that made it hard to relax.

  Bear put down the menu and a waiter appeared immediately. I watched him order, lost in the way his lips formed the words and I couldn’t help but anticipate when those lips would be on me again. When the waiter disappeared, I leaned over to him.

  “Why are you single?” I whispered.

  He smiled and shook his head.

  “I’m a bit of a handful, if you hadn’t noticed,” he said.

  “Still,” I replied. “A man like you…rich, handsome…”

  “You think I’m handsome?” he asked, striking a funny pose.

  “You know you are,” I laughed.

  “Well, I could ask the same of you, Chloe,” he said.

  I shrugged, thinking of Harlan and immediately wishing that I hadn’t.

  “I’m newly single,” I said. “Not soon enough.”

  “Ah, yes, the ex-boyfriend,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s his name?”

  “Harlan,” I muttered. “But let’s not talk about him.”

  “Okay, what would you like to talk about?” he asked.

  I stole a quick glance over at the couple next to us. The old lady smiled and leaned over.

  “You two are a very handsome couple,” she said, her voice shaking as she caught my eye.

  “Oh!” I replied, shaking my head, “we’re not —.”

  “—Thank you, ma’am!” Bear interrupted. “I think so too!”

  “Oh, you’re quite welcome, young man. Treat her well, good women are hard to find!” she said.

  Bear laughed, pouring on the charm.

  “Don’t I know it!” he exclaimed, before turning to address her husband. “Looks like we lucked out, Sir!”

  “Oh! You!” the old lady admonished him, blushing slightly.

  I sat there, smiling like an idiot, falling victim to Bear’s charms, too.

  When the waiter returned, he had a bottle of wine in his hands. He presented the label to Bear with a formal bow and I did my best not to giggle.

  “Sir, as you requested. A 2006 Chianti Classico Riserva.”

  The waiter poured a tiny bit in a glass and handed it to Bear. He sniffed it and took a sip, nodding approvingly.

  “That’ll do, thank you,” Bear said. The waiter poured the wine into our glasses and left the bottle on the table. I reminded myself not to drink too much again, wondering exactly how much that one bottle cost, at the same time. Probably a month’s rent at my old place in Portland. I felt guilty wasting it, but hopefully Bear would drink most of it, because if I had anymore wine I was going to be sliding under the table in a drunken puddle of embarrassment.

  “So, Chloe,” he replied. “Let’s talk about this job.”

  “Job?” I asked in surprise. I’d given up on thinking he was going to give me a real job and if he started talking about blow jobs and butt plugs in front of these people, I’d crawl under the table no matter how much wine was involved.

  “Yes, I told you I was going to give you a job, didn’t I? Did you not believe me? Besides, if I don’t, Matilda will start asking questions, won’t she?”

  “She already has,” I replied. “I just thought you said —,” I began.

  “—Something came up,” he interrupted. “I think you’d be a good fit for it. It’s a little outside the box, but I think you can handle it.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “What is it?”

  “You’re a fashion designer, correct? Well, I don’t deal in the fashion industry, but I just bought a new hotel and I need an interior designer.”

  “You want me to be an interior designer for a hotel?” I asked, my heart speeding up at the thought of such a huge job.

  “Sure, why not? I mean, it’s not fashion, but I figure if you’ve got style then you’ve got style, right? What do you think?”

  “Bear, I’ve never done anything like that before,” I protested, shaking my head.

  “That’s okay, you’ll learn. If you need help, we’ll get you an assistant,” he said, with a dismissive wave. He lowered his eyelids, the blue darkening in his eyes as he peered at me intently. “I have faith in you, Chloe.”

  “Th-thank you,” I stuttered, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst from my chest at any second.

  “You’ll have a handsome salary, too, don’t worry,” he continued. “With a full benefits package, of course.”

  I felt myself begin to blush again at the mention of the benefits and smiled at him.

  “My mother will be happy to hear that,” I said.

  “I thought she would,” he winked, his handsomeness taking my breath away. “Of course, I hope you realize that this doesn’t change anything about our previous arrangement. Everything we discussed earlier still holds.”

  “Oh, right,” I said, my body tingling. “You don’t think that’s a conflict of interest?”

  “I don’t really give a shit,” he said, the sternness returning, sending a jolt right through my spine.

  “I see,” I replied, sipping my wine again, trying once more to desperately hide the turmoil bubbling inside of me.
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  How in the world would I know how to design a hotel?

  And yet, how in the world could I ever say no to him?

  “Does all of that work for you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding, as I swallowed hard. “I mean, I still have questions…”

  “Of course you do. And like I said, we have all the time in the world for questions.”

  Our dinner arrived at that moment and instead of asking my questions, I ate.

  Gloriously, slowly, decadently…I devoured each and every scrumptious bite of what was indeed the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my life. The wine kept flowing and I abandoned my intentions of slowing down. By the time our meal was finished, we’d finished the entire bottle.

  I didn’t really feel it until I stood up to go to the ladies room. I made my way across the room, doing my best not to trip in my new Prada heels.

  I need to find a way to incorporate some sturdy boots into my wardrobe if I’m going to be drinking like this, I thought, as I stumbled through the door of the ladies room and right into the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh!” I slurred and stumbled back. “Excuse me!”

  She’d been walking out as I was walking in and I ran right into her—my melting face doing a face plant right into her creamy, perfumed bosom.

  Blood rushed to my face and I looked up at her. She was amazonian tall, looming over me in all her manicured perfection. Her long blonde hair flowed around her like a satin curtain, with shimmering waves of golden softness that looked like it would melt if you touched it. I resisted the urge to reach out and do just that. It looked as fine as cotton candy and yet there was so much of it. Once I finally made it past all the waves and looked into her face, I gasped.

  Her eyes were purple. Elizabeth Taylor violet. I peered into them, drinking them in like I’d just seen a rare creature in the wild. Anger flashed through them like wildfire and I blinked and took another step back.

  “Excuse me,” I said again, stepping around her, my eyes quickly trailing down and taking in the rest of her. Her black sequined gown fit her sculpted body like a glove, outlining every curve of her lean frame. In Portland, we’d say she had a yoga body. But this creature was so perfectly put together, I couldn’t help but wonder if some of it was man-made.