“He’s a cold bastard . . . ”
“Perhaps. However, he never fell victim to you and he’s considered the most calculating businessman on the East Coast.” She shrugged. “The board meets four times a year. Lola already put the dates on his calendar.”
“You did all this behind my back. How dare you?”
“You did far worse behind my back. I’m simply removing you from my life. Congratulations on your pending nuptials. Please be out of the brownstone by the end of the month.”
“You think you can dismiss me?” Victoria’s words came through gritted teeth.
“I think nothing of the sort. I absolutely guarantee it.” Glancing over her mother’s shoulder, she smiled at two of the security staff. “This woman was just leaving. Would you mind escorting her?”
The men nodded and gestured politely to the elevator.
“This isn’t close to over, Marcy.”
“It’s not only over, it happened so fast that it will take you months to sort out exactly what I’ve done. If you don’t like it, I suggest you hire a lawyer. Dad recorded your adultery and other activities for years. Those recordings were part of my inheritance and I will use them to take back what I’ve been kind enough to let you keep.”
“You dare to threaten me!”
“Not a threat . . . a promise. Goodbye, Mother. Always unpleasant to see you.” Then she walked into her apartment and closed the door.
Leaning against the cool surface, she exhaled roughly. “You finally fucking grew a pair.”
CHAPTER TWO
As Marcy stepped from the car onto the curb later that night, she could see that Trois was packed.
Adam smiled. “You look lovely, miss. Call whenever you’re ready.”
In his late fifties, Adam had been assigned as her driver and personal armed security since she was twelve. She considered him family.
“Thank you, Adam. Turn in for the night and I’ll take a cab back to the building.”
“Miss Canfield . . . ”
“I insist. I won’t keep you waiting for me when I have no idea how long I’ll be here. It isn’t right and you’ve been working around the clock. Take a few days off and enjoy them, Adam. Please. You do so much for me.” She winked. “I know your lady love must miss you.”
The older man blushed. “Are you sure, Marcy?” She nodded. “Thank you.” He pivoted to walk around the car and paused, turning back. “You know, I remember the day you were born. Your father was frantic. He would be incredibly proud of the woman you’ve become, Marcy.”
“Thank you. Go before I start crying on the sidewalk. I’ll call you.”
With a jaunty salute, she watched as he rounded the front and slipped into the driver’s seat. Seconds later, he was pulling away from the curb.
Glancing in the opposite direction, she nodded at the car parked less than ten feet away that would continue to follow her. One man stood outside the car, the other was behind the wheel. There would be a second team posted at the rear entrance and a third in the alleyway.
No matter her age or level of power, a security detail around the clock was part of her life. It was an essential aspect to being the sole heiress of a fortune that exceeded billions in assets.
Both men returned her nod mechanically. They would have already cleared the club with the owner’s assistance before opening and it meant Marcy could relax inside without anyone babysitting her. Trois had been pronounced beautifully secure by every member of the security staff.
Taking a deep breath, she took the stairs to the entry. The bouncer at the front grinned. “Good evening, Miss Canfield. It’s good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Stav. Is it busy tonight?”
The huge man nodded. “Natalia is throwing a birthday party for Miss Hernandez. Have you met?”
“I don’t believe I have.”
“You’ll get along great. Enjoy, miss.”
She stepped into the foyer and felt better than she had in a long time.
When she’d interned for Hudson Winters after graduate school, she’d gotten to know his best friend Natalia Roman. Eventually, they’d talked about her club. Intrigued but unsure if she’d fit in, the statuesque blonde insisted on giving her a membership to the exclusive establishment that catered primarily to ménage couples.
“If you don’t use it, it doesn’t matter. Either way, you’ve lost nothing. Come by. There are no expectations. Hudson uses it regularly and he doesn’t share his toys.” Quietly, she’d added, “Your mother is not allowed inside and the security is above reproach. Consider the club your personal bolt hole, should you need one.”
Since then, the friends had coaxed her out for drinks several times. Despite their well-sculpted reputations, she’d liked and trusted them from the beginning. She often wondered why the two of them weren’t a couple but as a private person herself, she hesitated to ask.
Natalia had been right about using Trois to wind down. Though she didn’t interact with more than a few people, Marcy loved sitting with a drink and just being. The atmosphere was classy and the music was fantastic. For the last couple of years, she’d insisted on paying for her membership.
After the death of her father, she was kept busy not running the company and ensuring Victoria didn’t destroy what Pritchard Canfield built.
For six months following his funeral, her mother literally seduced board members to her side. With a majority vote, she could have altered core policies to increase her own checks. Policies that would have alienated their staff and investors—and went against everything her father represented.
Distracted and committed to eighteen-hour workdays, it had been too long since she’d had a moment to enjoy the club. It was good to be back, to take some time for herself. The number one feeling Trois always inspired was safety.
It was something she hadn’t experienced much of in her personal life.
While her statement that Victoria was a rat who would eat her young was meant to be sarcastic, part of her had always wondered if her mother would turn violent.
“Marcella! It has been far too long since I’ve seen you!” Natalia came from behind the podium and kissed both her cheeks. Leaning back, she held her shoulders and stared into Marcy’s eyes. “You look different, darling. Did something happen?”
Many would find the older club owner an odd friend for her to have but Marcy had felt a sort of kinship with her instantly. She filled her in on the latest happenings with Victoria. She was embarrassed at the way her voice shook during certain portions of the story.
When she told Hudson everything she planned regarding the board, she left out the personal aspect. Something told her he suspected the rest but when news broke of Victoria’s wedding to Marcy’s ex, there would be no doubt.
She confessed all of it to Natalia and couldn’t hide a certain level of embarrassment.
Her friend ran her palm over her hair and gripped her shoulder. “Your mother was always evil. I never understood what Pritchard saw in her and I’m glad you cut her off.” She grinned broadly. “Now you must meet someone, a close friend of mine and Hudson’s. She’s going to love you.” A small frown formed on her face. “Has it truly been more than a year since I’ve seen you?”
Marcy nodded. “Almost two. The company took every minute. It has quite a bit more to take before I can breathe again. Has very much happened?”
Winking one of her electric blue eyes, she said, “Absolutely everything has happened. Come.”
The main room of the club was decked out like a fairy wood. “This is gorgeous, Natalia.”
“When you meet Gabriella, you’ll understand.”
Taking her hand, she led the way around the dance floor to a small seating area. Several couches and chairs had been positioned in a semi-circle.
Hugging Marcy to her side, she announced, “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Marcella Canfield, a wonderful friend who has emerged from the ashes. Of course you know Hudson and I believe you’ve met Max and Mica
h.” The two beautiful men nodded with gentle expressions. “This is their Riya, her best friend Tawny, and her men Zach and Quinn.”
Guiding her around the group, she shook hands and murmured pleasantries. Riya and Tawny were animated and their intelligence was obvious.
She’d done business with Max in the past and all of them traveled in the same charity circuit. Zach complimented her on a food program she’d been working on in the Tri-State area and she thanked him in surprise.
Quinn added, “We’re part of the food division. The entire project is inspired and we’re proud to be involved. Your ideas have a very long reach, Miss Canfield.”
“Marcy has one of the most brilliant business minds I’ve ever met.” Hudson stood to kiss her cheek, squeezing her shoulder with a firm nod. “It’s good you came.”
He was a man of few words and it always shocked her when he used them in praise. He didn’t give it often or cheaply. They weren’t more than a dozen years apart in age but Marcy had wished more than once that her father had been as protective as the real estate tycoon had been from the day she went to work for him.
Natalia pulled her away and stopped in front of a woman with curly black hair that cascaded around her upper body. She sat in a slim wheelchair.
“This is Gabriella Hernandez.”
Holding out her hand, she was struck by the woman’s brilliant smile. “It’s so good to meet you, Miss Canfield. Natalia and Hudson hoped we’d get a chance to meet. He told me you might need some redesign work done.”
Nodding, she took the warm hand gently. “You’re the graphic artist? He showed me some of your work and I was truly impressed. Please call me Marcy.”
“Then call me Brie. Join us.” She gestured to the low sofa beside her
Lowering, Marcy was astonished at the way the woman seemed to glow. “I understand the fairy wood now.” Brie’s laughter floated on the air. “You’re like a magical creature or something.”
“She gets that reaction often,” Hudson said from Brie’s other side. “How are you holding up, Marcy?”
She caught him up and several of the men drew her into conversation about the company, Hudson’s involvement, and the planned restructuring. The four males relaxed with their women between them and gave her fresh perspective on several issues.
“Consider having Tawny take a look at your virtual security. She charges a fortune but if you have any holes, she can plug them.”
The redhead clasped her hands beneath her chin dramatically. “Hudson, you’ll make me swoon.”
There was a pause and he added, “She’s certifiable but it’s the risk you take to get the best.”
While they talked, Brie removed a sketchpad and began to draw. Riya chuckled when Marcy noticed. “Any talk of business, Brie and I zone out.” She shrugged. “We can handle the logical but we gravitate to the creative.”
“I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” Soon, Marcy was unable to follow the discussion because she was fascinated at the way Brie’s pencils flew over the page. “You’re amazing.” Turning the sketch, Marcy found herself looking at a portrait of herself in profile.
“I’ll add a bit of color to capture your strawberry blonde hair and the lovely blue-green of your eyes but I like the initial feel of it.”
Glancing up, she stared into Brie’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
Tawny snorted. “You won’t again. I can fucking guarantee that. Her hand is twitching to finish that sketch. We’ll all do lunch and give you the down and dirty scoop.”
“I’d like that.”
“Natalia said you emerged from the ashes.” Sitting up, she rubbed her hands together. The better light from the new position revealed a scattering of freckles on her skin. “That means you should celebrate. What do you drink?”
“Double whiskey, neat.”
“Oh, I like you!”
CHAPTER THREE
An hour later, Marcy was buzzed and laughing harder than she’d ever laughed in her life. Natalia came back several times to check on them. At one point, she bent to kiss Hudson and Marcy’s eyes went wide. Standing up, the blonde winked and went back to mingle with her guests.
At her side, Brie whispered, “You really need all the news.”
“I’ve missed much more than I realized.”
“You have no idea but it’s an easy fix.” Immediately, Brie removed a cell phone from the bag beside her and they exchanged numbers. “This is our main group and you should be in it, Marcy.”
“I appreciate the welcome.”
“I warn you though, we can be ridiculous.” Whispering loudly, she pointed comically at Tawny. “Especially you-know-who . . . she has no filter.”
“Hey . . . wait, no, that’s right.”
Marcy grinned. “I spend my life around filtered people. The change is good.”
She felt comfortable with them, able to relax in ways she usually struggled to accomplish. She noticed that Hudson and Natalia were similarly affected. At one point, her gaze locked with the stern business mogul and he gave her a half smile.
“We are much the same, Marcella. You disconnected by necessity but you are still young. These women can help you ease the pressure. They almost force one to have a good time.”
“I’ll try not to put up a fight.”
“That’s best. Natalia will kidnap you without a word. Tawny fights dirty. Riya will gently logic you into conceding. Brie will bake and hug you into submission.” His evaluation set off a round of laughter and conversation. It was marvelous.
Near midnight, Marcy was feeling boneless. She was stretched out comfortably, chatting with Brie.
When the dark-haired woman saw her looking at the wheelchair, she explained, “I’m not paralyzed. I had an accident earlier this year. I’m still in physical therapy and I get tired easily. I’m getting stronger every day.” She tapped the padded arms. “I’ll be glad to be rid of this in a few months.”
“You have a great attitude.”
“So do you. By the way, there are a couple of men at your nine o’clock who seem completely taken with you. Do you know them?”
Casually turning her head, she saw two men at the bar who were, in fact, staring in their direction. They were vaguely familiar, attractive, and clearly wealthy.
Looking at Brie, she grinned. “They’re more than likely looking at you. I don’t inspire that sort of attention. I’m a bit stuffy.”
The artist laughed. “Stuffy . . . I think not. You’ve been a riot since you sat down. A few drinks, some good conversation, and your natural social butterfly appears with a flourish.”
Leaning closer, Brie added, “Remember, the expectation of who you’re supposed to be is not the same as who you are. You can be whoever you’d like, Marcy.” Cutting her eyes up and back again, she nodded. “They’re looking at you. Not me, not anyone else in our group. You.
“Men . . . confuse me. They make me feel uncomfortable in my skin.”
“That’s residual negativity leftover from past relationships that can be overcome. You should trust me on that one. Every person, every situation, is a fresh start. Do you dance?”
“I . . . only formal. I had to learn for events.”
Tawny’s mouth dropped open. Then she whispered, “A protégé. Riya, we haven’t had one in forever! Can we keep her?”
“Slow your roll, Red.” To the rest of the group, Riya murmured, “Does anyone know them personally? We can’t allow our new friend to fall into trouble.”
With a loud snort, Tawny quipped, “The hell we can’t. Some kinds of trouble are just what a woman needs in her life. Those two . . . oh yeah, they’d be the good kind of trouble.”
Hudson glanced up from his conversation with Micah. “Cousins from Dubai who are in possession of wealth that could buy all of us out of our respective lives.”
“Shut the fuck up . . . seriously?” Tawny asked a little too loudly.
He grinned and it wasn’t an expression tha
t Marcy had ever seen him wear. “Seriously. They’ve been members of a similar club in Amsterdam for more than a decade. Natalia vets new members with a spectacular attention to detail—a habit I appreciate.”
Sipping her drink, Marcy relaxed against the sofa and all thoughts of the pair’s possible interest vanished instantly. The others stared at her.
“Wait. Are you playing hard to get?” The outgoing redhead had a confused look on her face. “Bitch, you’re not going to introduce yourself?”
Laughing, Marcy shook her head. “I’m a female known as the repressed nerd type who goes to work early and leaves late, a strong candidate for ending up a lonely spinster poring over stock reports and charity engagements, and who has no desire to ever have children. Trust me, I’m not their type.”
“Enlighten me on what you believe our type to be, Miss Canfield,” said an amused voice just behind her to the left. The accent was exotic, every word enunciated perfectly, and deep.
There was a chuckle and a similar voice to the right added, “I rather enjoy stock reports and charity engagements. Additionally, children are highly overrated, in my personal opinion.”
Meeting Tawny’s gaze across from her, she narrowed her eyes at being set up. The woman blew her kisses. Delicately clearing her throat, she sat up and made a half turn to peer over the couch. The sight of them up close was . . . disconcerting.
“Hello.”
Lifting her palm from the back of the couch, the first man kissed it. “I am Fahad Ghonim and this is my cousin Nuri Ghonim. Your reputation precedes you but media photos have not done you justice.”
Out of her element, Marcy said, “Reporters take me by surprise. I get nervous.”
For a long moment, the two men stared at her intently and she fought to control her blush the way she’d learned from one of her father’s advisors.
“A topic for another time. Allow us a few minutes of your time, Miss Canfield,” Nuri said.
Suddenly, she understood their focus on her. “Ah, business. In that, I can converse intelligently.” Tugging her hand from Fahad’s, she stood and walked confidently around the seating area, gesturing to a nearby table.
Angels & Sinners: The Motor City Edition Page 28