Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance

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Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance Page 15

by River Laurent


  I stare out of the window.

  The bleak, rainy skyline is depressing, but even if the day were bright and sunny and full of unicorns sliding down fucking rainbows, it wouldn’t help one bit. It’s a waking nightmare. Behind me, the silence is so perfect you can hear a pin drop.

  I turn around my eyes focusing on Laura Greenwell, the leader of my legal team. “Can we sue this fucker?”

  She wants to say yes. She really does. I can tell by the way she presses her lips together and drums her fingernails restlessly on the table. “Weissman makes my blood boil, his methods have always been as unethical as sin—”

  “Unethical? He outright stole our design!” I roar, barely able to hear myself think over the raging fury going on in my head.

  She nods. “Yes. Yes, he did. He outright stole your design, but from a strictly legal standpoint, the patent on your drone is still pending, so Weissman Technologies had just as much right as anybody else to launch a demo last night. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you something different, but we have no grounds to take him to court.”

  Lou’s my chief of security who has been ominously quiet up to this point—probably because he is wondering if the leak occurred on his watch— speaks up for the first time, “What about an injunction?”

  Laura shakes her head regretfully. “I mean, we could.” She looks at me. “That’s your call, naturally, but it will take weeks and—”

  “—we have no way to prove that he stole it,” I finish with an ever-sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “It’ll be our word against theirs as to who stole the plans from whom. Scandal, mudslinging. Either we stand up for ourselves and look like a bunch of crybaby thieves, or we roll over like whipped dogs and let them pick up every damned contract that is rightfully ours to score.”

  “So what do we do now, boss?” Mark, my sales manager asks.

  They’re looking at me for the answers because I am the boss, the guy who’s supposed to come up with the solutions. I turn away from them and stare unseeing out of the window. As a kid, my mother told me a story she read in the Reader’s Digest. It was about this young woman who had spent all day cooking a turkey. A man she wanted to impress was coming to dinner. They had drinks, canapes and everything was going really well. Finally, it was time for the main course, the piece de résistance, the thing the young woman had worked on all day long.

  Proudly, she carried in the perfectly done bird on a large tray. There were gasps of admiration from the assembled guests. As she crossed the threshold though, her shoe caught on the carpet. The tray jerked out of her hands. The turkey went flying across the room and landed on the floor.

  There was a shocked silence in the room.

  For a few shocked seconds nobody moved. The young woman was ready burst into tears. She couldn’t believe her luck. All her hard work slaving in the hot kitchen had come to nothing. Then the girl’s mother spoke up, “It’s okay, darling. Throw this turkey away and serve the other one you roasted.”

  I turn around and look decisively at my management team, making sure to meet each member’s eyes for emphasis. “We won’t cancel the upcoming demo. We’ll show them the other drone.”

  Ryland frowns. “What other drone?”

  “The one Sam and her team are working on.”

  His jaw drops. “What are you talking about, Lincoln? That drone is months away from ready. It’s has a major kink, remember? It can’t pass the seven minutes mark without frying up its circuits. It’ll never be ready in two weeks.”

  “Yes, it fucking will. It will, if I have to work twenty-four-seven myself,” I growl.

  “What about the rat?” Lou asks. “If we don’t pin down exactly who took the plans and handed them over to the enemy, even the design for the second drone are in danger of falling into Weissman’s hands.

  “Oh, don’t you worry. We’ll find them, and I’ll deal with them personally,” I say softly.

  “Mr. Cage?” Erica’s voice rings through the room, via the speaker on the phone in the center of the table.

  “What?” I demand, yanking the receiver from the base to keep the conversation between the two of us.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

  “Which part of do not disturb me under any circumstances did you not understand?” I snap with irritation.

  “I know, sir, but…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Your…ex-wife is here.”

  Lincoln

  She might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water over me. I freeze in place, my mind the only thing still able to move. And it’s racing. What the hell is she doing here? Is it Maddie? A shudder passes through me. Oh God, it must be Maddie. Suddenly, all the anger I felt about Weissman Technologies stealing my company’s secrets disappears and I am filled with fear. Terrible, mouth drying, bone shriveling fear.

  “Right, I’ll come there,” I say. Even my voice sounds strained and strange.

  “Umm…sorry Mr. Cage, but she went straight into your office. I couldn’t stop her. She’s in there now.”

  “That’s fine,” I say automatically.

  Ryland picks up on the change in my demeanor instantly and tries to catch my attention, but I avoid his gaze as I cross the room. This is the day from hell. God, please let it not be about Maddie. I open the door that connects the conference room to my office. My fists are clenched hard as I step through.

  Fuck me.

  The mind-numbing fear for Maddie drains from me in a rush, leaving me almost weak with relief. I close the door to give us a measure of privacy and lean back against it and survey the scene before me. My leather chair is tipped right back. Inside it is my ex-wife. There is a slight pout on her scarlet mouth, and her stiletto shod feet are resting on my desk. Against the leather and dark wood, she makes a languid, sensuous picture. For one second, a memory comes back. Those pale, smooth legs wrapped around my neck as I pound into her. Then the memory is gone, as quickly as it came, and I feel my balls shrink with revulsion.

  Shit.

  I need to get laid.

  Badly.

  Now that I know nothing is wrong with Maddie, I have no time for whatever it is she is up to. I need to get rid of her, and fast. I glance at my watch. “What’s this all about, Regina? I don’t have the time today.”

  She sniffs derisively. “There’s something new. Lincoln, not having the time.”

  I frown. “I’m serious. What do you want? And can you fucking get out of my chair?”

  Setting her feet on the ground in a smooth movement, she stands. As always, she makes a stunning picture. She is the mistress of the little black dress. Nobody wears it better than her. Still a little dressed up for lunch with the girls. Then again, it’s been a very long time since I cared enough to keep tabs on her schedule. My eyes rove over her. I have to admit I’m impressed by the amount of money she’s wearing around her neck and ears. I’ve bought enough jewelry in my lifetime to know the good stuff when I see it. She must have found a new sucker to buy them for her.

  I sit behind the desk. The chair is still warm from her body. “Well?” I prompt, impatiently.

  She goes to stand at the other side of the desk. “I thought you should know that I’ve decided to let you spend a little time with Madison.”

  Not many things in this wide, wide world can surprise me. I admit, the news that Weissman poached our technology stunned me this morning, but that’s probably naiveté on my part. This is a cutthroat business and he is known in the business for questionable ethics. But this? If she set the soles of my shoes on fire right this minute, it wouldn’t surprise me more than what she just announced.

  “You’ve decided to let me spend a little time with Madison?” I repeat. I have to be sure I actually heard right. With the way things have gone today, I could be hearing things.

  She lifts one shoulder. “Yes, I thought it would be nice for her to spend the summer with you.”

  Whoa! Pigs do fly. I open my mouth in amazement. “The summer with me?”

  “A
re you going to repeat everything I say?” she asks sarcastically.

  I feel anger boil up in my body. She really picked the wrong day to have this conversation with me. “What do you expect? For the last two years, you have behaved as if any time Madison spends with me could actually be detrimental to her mental and physical health.”

  “If you had been a better father…” She lets her voice trail off.

  “Fuck you, Regina. You know, I was the best father in the world to that little girl while we were together. We could’ve arranged joint custody, if you weren’t such a selfish bitch, but after dragging me through the court system for a solid year, fighting me tooth and nail and going for sole custody of our daughter, you now stroll in here and talk about handing her over to me for the summer?” I lean back and remember how bad it’d been. “Oh yeah, and what happened to I’m such a lousy father I’ll neglect my child and cause her to suffer mental abuse equivalent to solitary confinement?” I sneer.

  “Well…” She shrugs. “People change. It looks like you’ve matured now. I should give you a chance. Besides, she was very young then and she needed more supervision. She’s quite the grown-up now. You’ll be able to handle her no problem.”

  My eyes widen. “Jesus Christ, Regina. You’re passing her on to me because you’ve grown tired of her, haven’t you?” And that’s it. I can tell my assessment has hit a little too close to home by the way she lifts her chin defiantly.

  “Don’t be horrible,” she whines. “You know how much I love Madison.”

  What the hell did I ever see in this woman? “Actually, it doesn’t look like you love Madison very much from where I’m sitting. It looks like playing Mommy is no fun anymore now that you can’t use it to hurt me,” I observe.

  She sniffs and straightens her spine. “It doesn’t matter what it looks like to you. She needs her father, Lincoln. That’s the reality here.”

  I jump to my feet, palms on the desk, leaning across the surface to bridge some of the distance between us. Her expensive perfume wraps itself around my head in a cloud. “You can’t just walk into my office and demand I take our child when the court ruled in your favor two years ago. Have you even stopped to think how this will upend her life? She’s six years old, Regina. She needs structure and routine, not to be bounced around from you to me, and back to you again, just because you’re bored.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t have to come back to me, then,” she fires back.

  I rear back in shock. My jaw might even have dropped. I stare at her and she stares back. So this is what she really wants, and she wants it badly too. My poor little girl.

  She lifts her chin. “I’m going back to Europe tomorrow with the new man in my life. So, there’s little room for argument now. She’s all yours.”

  My head spins. What? Tomorrow? She’s dumping our daughter at my door and leaving the country tomorrow. There’s no more patience left in me. I used it up hours ago. “How dare you?” I shout, raising my voice with every word. “How can you expect me to drop everything like this, when I have no arrangements in place for her?”

  “That’s what nannies are for,” she reminds me in an icy tone. She opens her purse and takes out a pair of sunglasses.

  I watch in amazement as she slides them onto her face.

  Her full mouth purses in a studied pout. “Nobody’s asking you to give up your life, Lincoln. Or your precious business. Just be a father. You’ve done it before. It’s like riding a bicycle. You’ll be fine.”

  I shake my head. This is it. I’m actually about to lose my mind. I’m about to go over the edge. “You think I can find a goddamned nanny by tomorrow?” I shout.

  “You might want to keep your voice down,” she says with sugary sweetness. “You don’t want to teach her any foul language, do you?”

  As though I haven’t heard her swear like a drunken sailor. Before I can remind her to keep her opinions of my choice of language to herself, her message filters through. “Wait a minute. Maddie is here?”

  There’s that practiced one-shouldered shrug again. “Yeah. She’s outside. Didn’t Erica tell you?”

  No. She fucking did not. I stare at her in disbelief.

  “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve got this for you.” She opens her purse and pulls out a thick envelope. Then she holds it out to me.

  I don’t take it. I don’t even dare to think it could be what I hope, pray it could be. Of course, it’s not. After all, this is the day from hell.

  “It’s the custody papers. I’ve signed Madison over to you. Just suck it up and do your duty. You are her father, after all.”

  My eyes nearly drop out of my head. My mouth falls open too, but I quickly snap it shut and frown. It takes a lot to leave me speechless, but that’s where I am right now.

  My cunning ex-wife recognizes this. She trains her cornflower blue eyes on me and flutters her lashes. She knows her eyes are her greatest asset. Once they used to set my pulse racing. Now, they leave me stone-cold.

  Maybe they always left me cold.

  Maybe, I should’ve been honest with myself in those days before the wedding, when I let the fact that I was a kid from Bay Ridge and I was marrying a Park Avenue princess blind me. Sure, Regina seemed perfect on paper: beautiful, educated, connected, wealthy, and the sex was always hot, but she wasn’t warm or real. There was never anything behind those icy eyes.

  She comes from a family with ice water running in their veins.

  As a matter of fact, I can’t remember ever seeing either of my ex-in-laws hug or kiss their daughter. Not even on our wedding day. They were a breed of people different from me. If one single word could sum up my childhood, it was “warmth.” A life full of hugs, praise and appreciation. I knew even then that our marriage was doomed, but I built her up in my head. I wanted it to work. She was like that Rolls Royce you dream of having.

  I take the envelope from her hand. Part of me still thinks this is a trick. Is she really giving Madison back to me?

  “It’s a shame we broke up,” she murmurs. “I’ve yet to meet a guy with a bigger or angrier dick than yours. Sometimes, I still miss it.”

  “Get out, Regina,” I mutter from between clenched teeth.

  She grins. She always had skin thicker than a rhino’s hide. “Okay, okay. Don’t bite my head off. I’m going.”

  I watch her turn on her heels and walk away.

  She turns at the door. “Oh, one more thing. Maddie has chicken pox. It’s just the remnants of the disease, but she doesn’t looks so good.”

  “What?” I bellow. “You dragged her halfway around the world while she is sick?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. We flew first class, obviously. She’s fine.”

  I can’t believe this. I knew Regina was a nasty, callous, heartless monster, but I’ve never seen anything like this. The selfishness it takes to do something like this. What kind of mother would drag her sick daughter out this way, when she ought to be in bed? Her own bed, in her own room.

  The door shuts. I stare at it. Still in disbelief. Fuck. Maddie had chicken pox and I didn’t even know about it. I am a lousy father. I raise my hand and look at the document. I’m clutching it so hard—I’m nearly crushing it. I relax my hand. I take the document out and look at my ex-wife’s signature.

  Hell, she actually did it.

  She gave me custody!

  Suddenly, Weissman and the leak in my company feel like they are nothing. I got my daughter back. I look out of the window and a ray of sunshine is trying to burst from behind a dark cloud.

  I couldn’t afford to show Regina how happy I felt when she stood here in my office. I know what she is like. Vindictive. A dog in the manger. Even if she doesn’t want something, she can’t bear for anyone else to have it. It would kill her to know she just gave me the thing I want most in life. She could have so easily withdrawn her offer. But she didn’t. I have the paperwork in my hands.

  Maddie is mine, mine, mine!

  I punch the air and
a whoop of pure joy escapes my mouth. I stride over to the door, open it a crack, and listen.

  “I love you, my darling,” Regina is saying.

  “I love you too, Mommy,” Maddie replies dutifully.

  “Be a good girl for mommy, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Goodbye darling. I’ll call you when I get to France.”

  “All right. Goodbye, Mommy.” Her voice is forlorn and small.

  It hurts me a little. Poor thing is going to be ripped away from everything she knows. But I can give her better life. I know I can.

  I wait until the sound of Regina’s stilettos start to die away, then I open the door and my heart breaks.

  Lincoln

  Oh, Maddie.

  Too sick to care very much where she is, or what is happening around her, she is sitting huddled up in one corner of the big, black leather sofa in Erica’s office. Her head is turned to watch the departing figure of her mother, but her mittened hands scratch restlessly at her itchy skin.

  Mittens?

  One of Regina’s pathetic attempts at mothering her child.

  Poor mite. To think Regina flew her across the Atlantic while she is in this condition. She looks so small and vulnerable.

  She turns her face back, and sees me. The light from the iPad on her lap shines on her little face, highlighting how many angry red marks there are on her skin. “Daddy,” she whispers.

  I know that voice. It comes out when she is very tired, or sick. I walk up to her, push the two pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage on the floor away, and crouch down in front of her. Her eyes are red and crusty. The last thing she should be staring at is her iPad. Gently, I take it from her lap and put it on the sofa out of her reach. I touch her forehead. She doesn’t seem to have a temperature. “Hey,” I say softly.

  She blinks hard and tries not to cry. Her mouth trembles and she presses her lips together to take back some control. “Do you think I’ll ever see Mommy again?”

 

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