“No. He wanted one but I didn’t see the need.”
“Which one is your office?”
“Right here.” Stephan pointed to the door near the end. In his hands were a few file folders. “I have those records you wanted to go over, sir.”
Jack pinched his nose and waved them off. “Give them to Devin. I have no patience or will to further my headache, Stephan.” He disappeared into his office.
He shoved them into Devin’s chest when Jack was out of sight. “Good luck, sweetheart. Even his CPA couldn’t find anything.”
“Do us all a favor and get laid, Stephan. Polishing the nob doesn’t seem to be doing the trick for you.” She strode past him and entered Jack’s office. Inside, she admired the refined style. One side held more books than she’d ever seen outside of a library. A portrait of Jack’s father hung on the other with a simple statement on a plaque below.
The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. - Mark Twain
“I always loved that quote.” A small desk was to the left of Jack’s rather large mahogany vintage model. “Is it all right if I sit here?”
Jack tapped on the screen of his computer. “Yes.” He never glanced her way. “Is Italian fine?”
“I’m famished. I’ll hog down a whole pie with everything at this point.” She sat in the high-back leather chair and groaned. It conformed to her every curve and bump. If she wasn’t careful, she’d take a nap.
“Pizza?” Jack chuckled. “That does sound good. I haven’t had that in some time.”
Devin rummaged through the desk drawers and found a few pencils, pens, and sticky notes. Calming her mind, she murmured a small prayer that her schooling knowledge from ages ago would rev back up. Halfway through her first folder, she found something—the name of Mrs. K’s front. When a client wanted to use a business account, she used a special name. Jacob Crossing Interior Design popped up on several invoices and in the journal entries.
“Victor likes to redesign, it looks like.” Devin couldn’t voice what she knew. The past was behind her. To dredge up possible infidelity when her marriage was so fresh didn’t seem to be the best move. Especially when she didn’t know the relationship between Jack and Victor beyond an office dispute.
“I suspect that’s Ina more so.” Jack pursed his lips and sat back. “I haven’t been to the European offices to see if it needed as much as has been expensed. My father says to let it be.”
“But you don’t think it should.”
“Money is money. If it’s spent on unnecessary expenses, we can’t allocate it elsewhere.” Jack stood up. “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s pick up your special meal and go home. My headache, I’m afraid, is not going to be for an evening you deserve.”
She closed the files. “I can look at these another time and make notes.”
“If you want. We might be having another accounting firm run the numbers if my father has his way. He does still hold a controlling share and I can’t say I don’t agree with his decisions.”
“Such as?”
“Asking you to marry me.” Jack smiled.
“When will I meet him?”
“When he gets bored of the Caribbean, I suppose.”
Devin followed Jack out. At the end of the elevator ride, they ran into Stephan holding a few pizza boxes.
“We’ve decided to call it a day and enjoy our treat back at the house.” Jack took her arm and they headed back with Stephan following close behind. The smell of the pizza wafted to her nostrils. Hopefully she’d show some restraint on the way to the house.
Sooner or later, she’d have to inform Jack of the name she read in the ledger. They would never find the error because she figured it out. Victor understated the amount he took out. Her services cost far more than he claimed, plus he always had a substantial tip in cash.
The opportunity, however, never came. Jack indeed hired another firm and so immersed in his work, Devin rarely saw him. Stephan came around to take her to the spa or shopping but even luxuries such as those lost their luster as she slept in an empty bed more often than not. Lost in a socialite society she struggled to understand, Devin turned her attention to learning how to be something deep down she wasn’t. Pretending to be upper class for a few hours was vastly different than the rest of her life. The learning curve, she found, was unforgiving. Only the hope of a repeat performance of her wedding night kept her mind from wandering. Sooner or later, she feared, that wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter Twelve
Devin adjusted the top of her satin pink gown once more. With only two thin straps to hold the many folds up, she feared her breasts would spill out—most likely when her husband introduced her to his colleagues again. Jack insisted she wear the form-fitting pieces, and though she loved how it hugged her curves, she’d never enticed her husband into their bed at the end of the evening. She was a jewel on his arm but her shine faded when they returned home. She expected his business would rule his world. The cold, lonely nights, she hadn’t expected. She longed for the heat of their honeymoon, even in a darkened room where she couldn’t bask in his expression as he passionately made love to her. Those days were long gone.
In fact, in the two years they had been married, she’d yet to get any true alone time with him. She was nothing more than a trophy wife for him to display to all his male friends. She’d be offended by their appreciative glances if her husband paid that much attention to her. Look but don’t touch had been a silent prayer, much to her wanting pussy. A room full of sexual toys couldn’t quell the ache festering behind her perfect smile.
She sighed and opened the ribbon-bound box Jack set on her vanity. Inside, a pair of gorgeous diamond earrings shined back. Her heart sank further, breaking the spell of his soft smile when he presented her with the gift. He had all the riches in the world to lavish her with exquisite baubles but when it came to wardrobe accessories, the finger pointed squarely at her spending another evening alone in a house so big, the sound of her tears falling echoed off the walls.
Her fingers smoothed over the many-faceted gems before she looped them through her ears. The old fashioned clips were her favorite. She never had to fear losing one. Not that it mattered. Jack would by her two to replace it.
She dabbed a luscious shade of pink lipstick on her full lips, thinking about how it might look circling her husband’s cock. She’d seen the rather large specimen on their wedding night before Jack tripped and fell, hitting his head on a table. She’d spent the whole honeymoon nursing his wound and playing a one-hand solo to tame her sexual drive.
“Guess I’ll be picking up some batteries on the way home.” She frowned but straightened her back. She was Jack Monterey’s wife, one out of a thousand girls vying for the richest playboy in New York City. Devin certainly didn’t miss working for a living. If her forgotten accounting degree taught her anything, nine figures certainly was better than five.
She tugged on the long pink matching gloves and checked her toenail polish for chips underneath the layers of silk. All dressed up in fuck-me pumps and no one to test them out on. How times had changed from her former profession. The same amount of skin showed but not for the reason intended.
“I’ve become the pink monstrosity of my toddler years.” She stood up and went to her dressing mirror, checking for imperfections. She wanted to be flawless, even without a gratuitous fuck at the end of the night. Regret wouldn’t bed her tonight, she decided. The agreement to become his wife was hers and hers alone. She could have walked away at any point, but if the last two years taught her anything, she was more afraid of failure than she cared to admit. He had to cave sometime. Children, after all, were a must according to the contract and she wasn’t a believer in magical pregnancies and followed by a visit from three wise men.
The phone on her vanity buzzed and she frowned as she saw the caller. “Hello, Ina. How are you?” she answered. Somehow, Jack’s sister had gotten a hold of her phone number and
made it a habit of calling out of the blue.
“Are you busy?”
“Just getting ready for another event. It’s been a busy week.” Not wanting to waste time, Devin applied her mascara. The last time Ina had called, she’d tried to get details of Jack’s business plans. Devin might have heard a few things and even helped on occasion, but giving that information to Ina? She’d never betray Jack in that way, no matter how stone-cold their love life was. She had some morals.
“Oh, Jack never invites me to any of those.”
“Maybe because you only deal with the European division?” Devin put the phone down and placed Ina on speaker. “If this is another social call, I can ring you back in the morning. You are about six hours ahead of us. I need to get ready.”
“Actually, I’m stateside and was wondering if you were free in a couple of days to go to lunch.”
“Not really.”
“Come on. We can go to that little taco place in Brooklyn. Mrs. K says you loved that place before Jack took you off your corner.”
Devin froze, a chill creeping up her spine.
“Yeah, I thought you might finally shut up. Unless you want this on the front page with Jack’s face front and center, you’ll meet me to discuss making him turn the business over to me. I’m sure that worn-out cunt of yours isn’t fit to birth anything at this point. Call you later.”
Devin felt the rising bile in her stomach as she became nauseous. No way would Mrs. K divulge that information. Jack had paid her far more than Ina could muster. Someone had snooped around and found the file Jack had kept. She couldn’t let Jack know that Ina was threatening her. Somehow, she’d use her street smarts to outwit his sister. Sexless marriage or not, she couldn’t hurt Jack.
“Are you ready, darling?” Jack popped his head in.
Her head bowed, Devin fiddled with her makeup to avoid his gaze. A few deep breaths later, she smiled into the mirror, noting the matching pink tie and cummerbund. The night would be perfect, just like when she was only an escort. Shake it off, she thought.
“Yes.” She stood and swayed toward him. “I don’t know who pulls pink off better. You or me.” She grinned and played with his tie to straighten it. “You think I could wrestle a dance out of you tonight?”
“You know I’d love to.” He gave her a too-chaste kiss on the cheek. “I managed to get Bill Cavendish to come to the party.”
She kept her painted smile on her lips. “Another hotel in need of saving by your excellent skills, I suppose.”
He lifted her chin. “You’re the one who found the opportunity. I love your keen eye.”
“A girl’s got to keep herself busy. Please tell me I’m not going to be clustered with those ninnies for too long. If I have to hear about what they wax and bleach one more time…” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry. Stephan will be joining us so that you’re not left to your own devices while I discuss business.”
Ah yes. Stephan. Her husband’s personal assistant and Devin’s part-time husband, it seemed. When Jack couldn’t, Stephan played a good surrogate in everything but the sack. If he did that little favor, she wouldn’t have to shop adult sites for a new toy to replace the worn-out ones. Clause Twenty-Two prevented her from testing the waters, not that Stephan hadn’t tempted her at the beginning of this marriage agreement.
“I like that word.” He chuckled.
“What word?”
“Ninnies. You have an astute way of perfectly describing an individual.”
“I promise to keep it between the two of us.” She accepted Jack’s extended hand. Their whirlwind romance had started out much the same. Wit shared and parties attended. As they left the house for the comfort of the limo, she carried herself back to her old lifestyle. Back when the intrigue of being with Jack thrilled her because he was the man who resisted all her wiles.
Now she had signed away the rest of her life to a man who only wanted her for her beauty. What happened to her when that faded? Sure, the prenuptial agreement had been firm that they would remain husband and wife unless she strayed from his bed. Devin never worried about whether Jack was unfaithful. The man lived and breathed his business. She even popped by his lush office unannounced to test her theory. Not one woman in the office. None. The sight of so much beefcake had her crossing her legs the whole ride home. Nothing relaxed her like an intimate stroke in the privacy of her bedroom.
“I almost forgot.” Jack slipped his hand in his suit pocket and Devin tensed. What were the odds he’d break a rule once and take her right on the limo floor? Her fantasy faded as he pulled out a sparkling diamond necklace. “I saw this on my last business trip and thought of you, my diamond and shining jewel.”
“It’s lovely.” She turned away from him to hide her disappointment and to allow him to place it around her neck.
“Without them on you, they’re just another gemstone.”
She watched the twinkling lights of the city as the limo crawled through the traffic. “I was thinking, dearest. Why not have a nice getaway to Paris this summer? Just the two of us.”
“Now that you mention it, there is a little chateau that I think would be a great addition to my company as a bed and breakfast.” Jack patted her knee. “This is why I married you. You were far too bright to be trapped in your previous job.”
“Yes.” Devin hid her face away from the reflection in the tinted windows. Paris was known as the city for love yet Jack had immediately thought of business. The ache between her thighs grew. A small part of her wanted to hike her long skirt up and display her neatly trimmed mound to her husband. Perhaps if she pleasured herself, he would be enticed to join in. She dismissed that idea. Section Fourteen on their agreement stated she would not publicly display her parts as she did in her previous profession.
As the limo slowed, she realized that her hope of money finding her happiness had been the cruelest joke of all. The door opened and a hand reached in to help her out. Stephan. She wondered why he hadn’t been with them.
“Devin, you look stunning.” He smiled as he drew her onto the middle of the sidewalk. She noticed his pink kerchief perfectly folded in his breast pocket matched both her and Jack in color tone. Instead of a tuxedo ensemble, Stephan wore a pink shirt unbuttoned at the top under his dinner jacket. A tie never did suit his tastes.
“Two men that can pull off the color pink. What are the odds?”
Jack joined them and took her arm. Stephan followed behind at a respectful distance. Lights flashed from the cameras and Devin put on her best demure look every time Jack paused long enough for a photo. Inside and away from the spotlight, Jack kissed her cheek again and handed her off to Stephan.
“I’ll see you later, my dear. Enjoy yourself.”
She watched Jack disappear in the mass of businessmen vying for his attention. The music in the room was soft and sorrowful, like a funeral dirge considering Stephan steered her toward the other wives widowed for the evening. Many of them also had a personal assistant standing off to the side.
“Would you like me to get you a drink, Devin?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Anything alcoholic, please.”
“Liquid courage coming up.”
She watched Stephan effortlessly glide to the bar as if the sea of human bodies parted for a king.
“More like numbing fuel against the dull conversation I’m going to have to endure,” she muttered before plastering on a smile reserved for the ninny-laden table.
“Devin! You look stunning. Come! Sit.” Carmella tapped the back of the chair beside her.
“Thank you.” She fake-kissed Carmella on the cheeks as if they were best friends for years. Out of all the women seated here, Carmella seemed fascinated with who Devin was, not that she’d divulge anything about her past. Years of different clients had made Devin into quite an actress.
Hours passed and the drinks around the table flowed. None of the husbands had taken an interest, too busy in their own bank-swelling endeavors. Devi
n toyed with the matching diamond necklace Jack had surprised her with in the limo. A parting gift, in her mind, that made up for his departure for the evening. Would taking the time for one dance kill Jack? She sat at a table of the other wives abandoned by their scheming husbands. The chatter revolved around vacations in exotic locations and the latest remodel in their homes. She knew two of the women had gutted the same room just a month before yet it didn’t quite fit their latest interior decorating tastes. In Devin’s opinion, it suited no one with an ounce of decorating skill. There was a point that gold made a room look cheap and tacky.
Though a glorified hooker by trade at one time, Devin had a sharp memory. Her one trait that kept clients coming her way. They relaxed and enjoyed the ride as she shifted into cruise control. Each one had been easy to please yet her husband never once employed her special talents since the honeymoon. Maybe she needed to check her contract with him again. Perhaps she missed the clause where her sex life would grind to a halt after a weekend of consummation. Happiness didn’t come at arm’s length with yet another glittering necklace attached.
“What about you, Devin?” Carmella leaned forward and gave Devin a light slap on the arm. “Jack was a perennial playboy bachelor before you snatched him up.”
Devin numbed her mind with a charming smile. “Oh, we haven’t been home enough for me to worry with the decorations. We were in Milan last week and now he’s talking Paris now.” What did a little lie hurt? She never saw these women outside the social circle. Entertaining at the house was a no-no in the prenuptials, thank goodness. It clearly stated that only family gatherings were permitted, not that she’d met anyone outside of Jack’s sister Ina and her three brats thus far. And Victor in another life. She half-suspected most of these ladies would be very open to a party featuring all sorts of vibrating paraphernalia.
“Paris.” Carmella gasped, too theatrically for Devin’s tastes. “How romantic.”
Devin and the Playboy Page 7