Taking Over

by S. J. Maylee

  “How big is this place?”

  “I think there are ten bedrooms in the main house. It's only about ten thousand square feet.”

  “Only?”

  “There are several around the lake that are twice the size.” She walked past him to the front door.

  “You don't stay in the main house?”

  “No. You'll see. There's not enough room for us once you get around the ego of my stepfather.” She pushed the doorbell. “The guest house is positioned between the pool and the lake.”

  A jolly older man answered the door. “Ms. Gina, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.”

  “I know, Andrew. It appears I have some business to discuss with Dale.”

  “Mr. Schulz just got back from his visit to the country club. I'll tell him you've arrived.”

  “Do you think she'll be up for me visiting later?”

  “Absolutely. She'll be thrilled to see you a day early. I should warn you, though. We are expecting Ms. Leslie later.”

  “Shit. What time?”

  “Just before dinner.”

  “Okay. We'll be sure to make our way to the guest house before then.”

  “I'll make sure it's ready for you. I'll put one of those pizzas you like in the refrigerator.”

  “Thank you, Andrew. We'll give you a call if we need anything.”

  After he left, they walked into the great room. Marcus walked right towards the wall of windows that looked out upon a large pool, sweeping grounds with huge lush trees, and a grand view of Lake Geneva beyond.

  “This is really a spectacular view. You must love coming up here.”

  “I used to. Can't say it’s true anymore.”

  “Gina, you're spoiled.”

  “Whatever. Look, he's going to show up any minute. Let me do the talking and maybe I can get us out of here tonight.”

  “Gina, darling.” An older balding man entered the room. An ivory sweater was tied around his neck. The rest of his outfit screamed stuffy. “Isn't this a nice surprise?” He walked right up to her, his hands clearly going for an inappropriate place.

  “I didn't come alone, Dale.” She stepped back and stumbled as she made her way around a barrel chair. “This is Marcus Martone. He works for Mr. Keller as well. I'm sure you know why we're here.”

  “Oh. Well, I didn't see you there, young man.” He reached out his hand and Marcus stepped up. The man gave him a limp fish handshake, but never took his lingering gaze off of Gina.

  Marcus swiped his hand on his pants. The guy was giving him the creeps. He wondered what Gina's mom saw in him.

  “We need to talk about what the hell you're trying to do to Keller's company.”

  “I don't answer to you. I can do whatever I want with my money.” He followed her around the chair.

  Marcus had seen enough and came forward with the intention of standing between them.

  “Your money.” She flicked her hand at Marcus, but kept her eye on the dirty old man. “Now, there's an interesting turn of phrase. As I remember, it's not your money at all.” When Dale started coming towards her, she stood her ground. “Marcus has all the details on the project you're halting and the losses you're causing.”

  He stopped on a dime and looked back at Marcus. “Would you give us a minute, boy? We have a few things to discuss.”

  “Can't do that. Keller asked me to stick with her while I'm here.” He clenched his fists. “Can I show you those sales figures?”

  “Or I could tell Mother how you're handling her accounts? I'm certain she'll have several questions.”

  “I was just helping a friend.”

  “What a load of crap. I know for a fact you don't have friends. You have a system of favors and rewards.”

  “Fine, fine, stay the weekend and we can talk more about this money thing on Sunday. Can I call the car for your friend?” He looked back at Marcus. “I'm sure you don't want to stay.”

  “You're wrong there. I'm with Gina this weekend. I'll be wherever she is.” He reached into his pockets.

  “Why don't you go see your mother? I'm sure Andrew has already told her you've arrived.”

  “Sunday, Dale.” Gina pointed at him.

  “Yes, I'll see more of you on Sunday.” He made his way to the bar, pouring himself several fingers of what looked like brandy.

  She tugged on the back of Marcus’s shirt and they left the room. Once she got them far out of earshot, she turned on him. “I don't want you sharing any of that conversation with my mom.”

  “What's going on?”

  She turned away from him. Marcus let her have a moment.

  “My mom's been sick.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” He walked around her.

  “No.” She had a hold on her wrist and was twisting it back and forth. Her gaze seemed focused on something a million miles away.

  “What is it?”

  She cleared her throat and shook out her hair. “Lung cancer.”

  “Oh.” He widened his stance. “I'm so sorry. I didn't think she smoked.”

  “She never did. We, Fontaines, are a lucky bunch.”

  “When was she diagnosed?”

  “About ten months ago.” She started moving again.

  “Ten months, wasn't that about when—”

  “Look.” She took a step toward him. “All you need to know is she's living on borrowed time. The doctors only gave her eight months. Most of what her life was is gone and I won't let anything else be taken from her. She doesn't know what really happened between Rob and me. We fell out of love and that's it. Okay?” Her posture was strong, but nothing compared to the strain between her eyes and her intense glare.

  “Whatever you want.” He put up his hands.

  “Don't take offense if she doesn't remember you. It's been a long time and she's been through a lot.”

  “I bet she'll remember me.” Then she turned on him again, “Yes, fine. I'll make no mention of it.”

  “Thank you.”

  The day was getting weirder and weirder. He couldn't remember if Gina had ever said thank you. He followed her around a corner. She knocked on a set of double doors and a woman in scrubs opened the door.

  “Ms. Gina, this is a nice surprise. I almost didn't believe Andrew. You appear here like clockwork on Saturday mornings.”

  “I got off a little early and decided to surprise her. Is she up to seeing us?”

  “Gina?” A sweet slight voice called to them. He barely recognized the sound of the vivacious woman he once knew as well as his own mom.

  “Hi, Mom.” Gina slipped into the room. “I've brought a friend. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all, dear. One of the benefits of losing your hair is that I'm always ready. Is it somebody I know?”

  He followed the sounds of voices into a dark room. Half of the large room appeared to be almost a doctor’s office and the other half a lovely bedroom full of pictures and books. The end of the room, where the hospital bed had been positioned, had a large bay of windows. Not much light was coming in, but the view was spectacular. He figured the windows must have been treated to filter out most of the light.

  “Hello, Mrs. Fontaine.” The tiny woman in the bed looked almost nothing like the woman he remembered. Her skin was no longer glowing with life, but the blue scarf she wore around her head matched her eyes that still twinkled with mischief.

  “It's Mrs. Fontaine-Schulz now. I've been lucky in love twice.” She smoothed the blankets over her. “I sure hope my Gina gets lucky twice. I pray for her every day.” Her head tilted slightly. “Marcus, is that you? Come closer.”

  “You recognize me?” It warmed his heart to bursting capacity. He probably hadn't seen her since the day Rob and Gina got married.

  “Of course I do. You're as handsome as ever. I must say you've done well with your career.”

  “You've kept tabs on me?” Marcus sat in a chair near the bed.

  “Oh yes, William gives me updates on all you kids.”

 
“Are you talking about Mr. Keller?” He looked back and forth between Gina and her mom.

  “Yes, I'm sure you know how William keeps an eye on all of you. He doesn't tell me anything that happens at the club of course.”

  Gina coughed a couple of times and walked away from the stack of books she'd been straightening to remove the spent pedals from the vase of flowers on the dresser.

  “But, he does let me know how you all are doing. He's such a dear man. Gina, stop whatever you're fussing with and come sit with us. Marcus Martone. You know, I always thought you were a better fit for my Gina, than Robert.”

  “Mother.” Gina came around the bed. Her face as pink as the roses she'd been messing with. “I told you to never mention that.”

  “No way should you deny your mother a thing.” Marcus sat up a bit straighter. “I like knowing I had some favor with her.”

  “Don't encourage her.” She slapped his hand.

  “True, because I might say the two of you would probably still be together. Do you know why their marriage fell apart? It was Rob, wasn't it? What did he do to my angel?”

  “Come on, Mom. You promised me you'd drop this. What's done is done.” She got up and readjusted the stack of books on the side table. “You were right. I wasn't right for Rob.”

  “That's not what I said at all. I might not be around much longer and I don't want you misquoting me. It's Rob, that was never right for you.”

  “We weren't right for each other.” She adjusted the pillow behind her mom's shoulders. “Now, that's enough. Stop talking about how much time you've got. Remember what Dr. Martin said.”

  “I'm sorry you have to deal with this. I didn't even know you were sick.” He scooted forward on his chair.

  “Don't feel sorry for me. I'm doing perfectly. I'm seeing more of my Gina than ever and my Dale takes very good care of me. Even my stepdaughter, Leslie, has been coming around more.”

  Gina started coughing again and it must have taken her by surprise because several little coughs followed.

  “Here, honey, drink this.” Her mother poured some water from the pitcher into a little glass that sat next to her bed. She handed the glass to Gina. “Do you know if Dale is back from the country club? He usually reads me the paper in the afternoons before I take my nap.”

  “I think he arrived just before we did.” She waved at Marcus. “Why don't we go and get settled in the guesthouse and I'll see you in the morning.” She leaned over the bed and kissed her mom on the forehead.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, too.” Marcus kissed her knuckles and then he followed Gina out of the room. He stayed close on her heels, anxious to get her alone and get some answers to what the hell was going on.

  Chapter Four

  As soon as she knew Marcus was following her, she made her way out of the main house and toward the guesthouse.

  She told herself her mother looked stronger. Dr. Martin said a positive attitude could make a world of difference. Not that she believed a thing the doctors said anymore, but she couldn't handle thinking her mother was getting worse.

  The reality was her mother was going to die from cancer. It was just a matter of time. The one thing in this world she could trust is one day she really would be alone. One day, no one would count on her and she would no longer be responsible for hurting anyone.

  She shook out her hands. At the moment, she needed to figure out how to get Marcus to keep quiet about all this business. The last thing she wanted was for someone to feel sorry for her. Heaven help anyone who sent her flowers. Her mother may enjoy them, but they reminded Gina that everything died.

  She pushed open the front door to the guesthouse and made her way to the kitchen. What she needed was a hot cup of coffee.

  “Why doesn't anyone know your mom's sick? Does Rob even know?” Marcus walked right past one of the bar stools and stopped altogether too close.

  “I've told the people who need to know.”

  “Keller?” He stepped closer.

  “Of course. He's my boss.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “I think that about covers my people.” She stepped back, miscalculating the end of the counter and Marcus trapped her in the corner by the pantry door.

  “What? Your husband didn't need to know?” The anger in his gaze bore into her.

  “He was on his way to becoming my ex when I found out. So, no, I haven't told Rob. My life is none of his business anymore.”

  “That's bullshit, Gina. He was your husband for crying out loud. It doesn't matter if you didn't give a shit about the relationship. He cares about you. You should have told him.”

  “If Rob gave a shit about me, he wouldn't—” She sucked her lip into her mouth. “You know what, forget it. Forget this. I don't need to tell you anything.” She pursed her lips.

  “The hell you don't.”

  “Let me by.” She shoved against his chest. “I don't answer to you. It's not like you're my boyfriend. You're certainly not my Dom.” She pushed her hair from her face and tried to concentrate on the apples in the bowl on the island. Apples. Apples.

  Juicy red apples.

  “You want to get technical. Okay. I can play that game.” He stepped back and crossed his arms. “I may not be your Dom, but I am a Master at Club Voyage. Since you are a club submissive, you've become my responsibility since I can plainly see you are not okay.”

  She knew better than to argue with his logic. He had her trapped and he knew it. The only relief seemed to be it wasn't obvious he was enjoying himself. Now, that she would have expected. From the first time she met Marcus, he was always urging her to talk about something she didn't want to. She rubbed at a sparkle in the granite.

  “Start talking, Gina. I don't think you're going to like my interrogation techniques.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” She squinted at him, figuring it didn't matter if it was true. “You've always wanted to have your way with me, haven't you?” She rubbed her lips together.

  “Stop changing the subject.”

  “Now that Rob's moved on, it must be killing you to get in my pants.” She took a step towards him, only stopping when her breasts bumped into his chest. She could feel the heat pouring from him, or was that from her?

  “What are you hiding from?”

  “I'm not hiding. I'm right here.” She rubbed the front of his pants and found him hard as a rock. “You're the one hiding the thing that wants to come out to play.” She licked at his lips.

  He grabbed hold of her wrist. “You're a tease and I know exactly how to handle you.” He dipped and shoved his shoulder against her belly and the next thing she knew, she was over his shoulder.

  “Put me down.” She tried to kick out, but he had a tight grip on her thighs.

  “Your choice in the matter is past, subbie.” He turned and moved around the kitchen. Sounds of drawers opening and closing and kitchen gadgets banging around filled the room. “Where can I find rope?”

  “You don't think I'm really going to tell you?”

  “You will if you value your ability to sit down.” He walked out of the kitchen. “Forget it. I know where to look.” He made his way towards the walk in closet near the French doors at the front of the house. He'd find everything he wanted in that room, plus several things she never wanted to see again. “Would you look what we have here?” His chuckle was deep and almost menacing. “I do believe I have everything in here to string you up like a piñata.”

  “I haven't agreed to anything of the sort. Now, put me down. Enough of this.” She played out several different stories she could give him. There had to be a way to skirt her way around the whole truth and still satisfy his stupid curiosity.

  He set her on her feet. “Are you going to answer my questions?”

  “Fine. I was pissed at Rob for divorcing me and I wanted to punish him for walking out on us.” She opened her eyes wide, figuring her direct stare would help her line ring true.

  “Nice try. If you hadn't
given me such a fuss, I would have believed you, but I'm guessing there's something else going on.” He picked up a rope and examined the different rings. “Strip down to your bra and panties.”

  “You don't want me naked?”

  “It won't be necessary.” He picked up another rope and two rings. If he dug too much further, he'd notice the trap door, the swing hidden beneath, and her collection of unused paddles and possibly a crop. She couldn't remember.

  She'd ordered the swing as a surprise for Rob last year. They hadn't yet played in the guesthouse, but she’d hoped to persuade him. That was the day he'd stormed in accusing her of straying and shredding any last hope of salvaging her life. He’d believed everything her stepsister, Leslie, had told him. A week later when the swing arrived, he dropped off the box and told her he wanted a divorce. Instead of enjoying the erotic thrill of the swing, she ended up huddled in the closet hugging the box instead.

  She hated the sight of the damn thing now, but couldn't bring herself to throw it out. The storage area beneath the closet had been the perfect burying place for it all.

  Until now.

  “Time is ticking. Start removing those clothes or I'll change my mind and I doubt you’ll prefer my next choice.” He tightened the knot he had on the quick draw ring and looked around the room.

  She kicked off her shoes and slipped off her blouse, dropping it on the edge of the trap door.

  “Either I'm not seeing it or Rob never hung you up in here.”

  She turned around. The last thing she wanted to talk about was Rob while she was taking off her clothes on Marcus's orders. She slipped her skirt over her hips and stepped out of it, carefully dropping it on her top.

  “Damn, woman, you really should warn a guy when you wear stockings like that.” He adjusted his pants.

  “They're just nylons.” She turned around and stood on top of the door, fingering the slash of red at her garter clip.

  “That's anything but just nylons. I didn't know they made garter belts with zippers.” He made no attempt to hide his perusal down her body.

  She swiveled her hips, hoping to bring his attention back up. Heat coursed through her as she drank in the desire in his darkening gaze.