by Barbra Novac
“Marianne?”
“Yes, Peter.”
“I thought very carefully last night, and well, if you feel that this is going too fast, we can take it a little slower.”
Marianne gasped. “My God, we haven't even started. I think we need to be dating for at least a week and declaring feelings before I can say that we're going fast.” Marianne gave a cute giggle, and she heard Peter catch his breath. “If anything, right now, I think it's going too slow.”
“That's my girl.” She sensed relief in his voice.
Then something occurred to her. “That is, unless you are feeling differently. Is it getting tough for you?”
“Nothing about this is easy. However, I feel very strongly that I'm heading towards something big. I am sure of where we are, and I want it to go further. See how far we can take this kind of connection. I guess I'm a little worried about the dangers I may be putting you in.”
“I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself and have had to through all sorts of experiences that would probably make your beautiful black hair curl.”
She could feel him smile on the other end of the phone. “I know that you have, and I know that you can. Also, I know that I've taken up too much time in your workday. See you tonight at six.”
The click of the receiver told her he'd gone.
Chapter Eight
Peter arrived at the front of the building right at six. Marianne waited for him, looking sophisticated in her navy blue, tailored Filippa K suit and a red satin shirt. The hearing started the next day, and no one had approached her at all. To Peter, it looked like they were going to get this thing won over. Precisely the way he wanted it won, overall according to plan. As for his plans for Marianne, getting her to avoid detection and avoid any subpoenas to a possible trial seemed to be moving along smoothly.
He pulled up outside the building, and she stepped forward to draw open the door, not thinking to wait for him. She looked so confident and sure of herself. Peter couldn't help but visualize her bent at the waist pulling apart her lips for him so he could see deeply into her waiting hole. His cock started to swell. She sat her backside down into the front seat next to him and swung her legs in expertly.
“You know, that's how I'm always going to want you to hop into my car. Sometimes I may even want you to spread your legs a little to keep your arousal high and your focus on us.”
He loved the way she flushed when he spoke to her like that. That deep, sexual flush, not the foolish flush of a shy schoolgirl. Peter knew arousal when he saw it, and this woman responded like no other.
She turned to pull the door closed, then faced him, the flush in her cheeks still strong.
“Why, sir. If you keep talking like that I am going to be kept awake tonight.”
Peter smiled as he pulled into the flow of traffic.
“We'll hit my place in about ten minutes. Tonight shouldn't be too tough. They'll just want to run through certain procedures so you have your own role down pat over the next few days.”
“Are things going according to plan?”
“Yes. Better than we expected. No one's approached the idea of getting you to the hearing, and that's a Godsend. It means they don't think that you'll make much difference to their case, or that they've not actually found you as we thought they would.”
“It seems odd that they won't have me as a witness. Even though I don't want to be subpoenaed, frankly, I am surprised that I wasn't.”
“There are things they know. They know that Joe wanted to marry you, and they know that he would probably force you or hurt you if it got out that they need you. Remember this is about taxes. They want to get him on tax fraud. Now all they have is incorrectly applied GST for a small period. It is amazing they've gotten the hearing this far over such a small misdemeanor. It's likely the only reason they've successfully managed it is because of who Joe is. My guess is they think they can pursue it further, and they're saving you up as one of the big guns.”
“But you don't think that'll happen, do you? You think you can win the hearing.”
“I do. I am confident. However, everything in a case like this depends on the 'feel' of it. That's why the team wants to get to you tonight. You have to look confident and nonchalant about the whole thing.”
“I think I can get away with that.”
Peter pulled into the driveway of his apartment building. “Dressed like that, my darling, you can get away with anything.”
* * *
He loved the way she looked. She'd not disappointed him at any stage. Even though she didn't earn much, Joe must have decked her out in finery, and she had the good sense to hold onto everything when she left. Peter adored so many things about her, including the way she presented herself, keeping her clothing in good shape.
He hopped out, but she'd already opened her door and stood by the car by the time he got around the other side. She smiled at him as he took her hand and kissed it. He turned to see the door attendant straining to look across the car park at them. He's never seen me bring a woman back here before, Peter thought. I can't quite believe that I am doing it, either.
With an arm at the base of her spine, Peter guided her to the elevator. They got in together, and she smiled, deliciously gorgeous, at him.
Fuck, I should just take her here! Concentrate, Pete! Stay with it!
The foolish excitement of showing off his home to her engulfed Peter. He felt playful, and he wanted desperately to have her approval. Moving ahead of her in the entry hall, he opened the door to his apartment, and stood back so that she could enter the house. He caught the slight breath of her scent as she walked past, and for the tenth time since he picked her up, he felt his cock stir.
He flicked the lights on behind her and heard her gasp.
“Oh, my goodness. Your home is beautiful. And harbor views. Can you turn the lights off just for a second? I want to see Sydney at dusk.”
Peter switched the lights off and moved up behind her. He wrapped his arms about her, and said, “Think of the nights we will have right here. In the dark together.”
He could feel her body melting into his, but he pulled his arms away and checked his watch.
“But our time is not now, lovely. They'll all be here in about twenty minutes, so I need your help. I'll order the laksas if you could grab the Semillon glasses out of the cabinet over there.”
Peter watched her behind as she bent forward and reached in for the glasses. Reminding himself again to be well behaved, he deliberately turned his back, dialed the number of the local noodle house, and ordered laksas for all of them.
They didn't have a lot of time, but Peter still wanted to prepare her for the evening. She needed to remember that he would not be acting like her boyfriend in front of this group of people, and he wanted to be sure she understood the way it had to be, just for tonight.
However, before she had all the glasses out, the doorbell rang. Peter walked up behind her and whispered, “Remember, they can't know just yet that we are planning a relationship. They know we're keeping close, but not that we intend sleeping together in the future.” She nodded her agreement, and he walked toward the entry hall.
Opening the door revealed Alan, Betty, and Derek. They'd all come from work together. Betty walked through the door first.
“Okay. We're here. Let's get this thing happening. You'd better have ordered food.” Betty walked directly up the corridor, after Peter's nod promising there would be food. Alan smiled vaguely at Peter as he entered, and Derek shuffled nervously until Peter virtually pulled him through the door.
Peter could hear the conversation as he approached. Betty really let Marianne have it. Betty's nasty little tests might hurt initially, but they sorted the wheat from the chaff brilliantly.
“So you're the woman who likes to sleep with gangsters, huh?” came out of Betty's mouth as Peter walked into the room.
“Betty, Alan, Derek, allow me to introduce you to Marianne, who is not going to be a witness f
or the prosecution.”
Derek let out a small cheer that drew such strong looks from Betty and Alan that he cringed, descending into the deepest shade of red.
Alan gave Marianne a quick, dispassionate look and said, “Well, let's get into it. We don't have all night.”
Peter had the three sit on the couch, giving Marianne a lounge chair opposite them, and he sat in one a little to the side of hers. He didn't want to give the impression they were together, but at the same time, he didn't want her to feel isolated and alone.
Marianne looked comfortable. Just at the moment, Peter found her hard to read, but he could tell that she still felt confident. She probably didn't expect so frosty a welcome, but Peter felt he had sufficiently warned her the night would be all business in order to spare her the danger of taking it all personally.
Betty started talking first. “We thought, at first, you and Peter in bed, spending the night together, reeked of sheer lunacy. Then, when Peter explained the strategy to us, we were happy to go along with it. Personally”—at this point, she looked at Peter, then back at Marianne—“in the cold light of day, I'm a little suspicious of it. I'm concerned you may be developing feelings for each other. Then I remember how many women Peter has fucked and how easily and quickly he lets them go, and I see that this time, you must actually be in on the joke. Think yourself lucky; none of his other lovers had the same courtesy. They found out the hard way that they were expendable.”
“Shut up, Betty,” said Peter. He looked across at Marianne and saw that color had risen in her face. It had nothing to do with arousal.
“What Betty means, love,” Alan said, “is that people are going to say all sorts of things to you and about you, and you have to be ready for it. You have to be able to laugh off certain types of insults, to be ready for anything. We need you to be as cool as a cucumber.” Thank God, Alan came to her rescue a little. It meant he didn't have to as much as he wanted to.
Betty stared right at Marianne. “Yeah. Right. That's what I meant.”
“What's your problem?” Marianne asked. “What have I done to you? Why are you speaking to me like that?”
“Like Alan said. You have to be ready for anything.”
“Well, if that's the case, wouldn't you be better to spend this time telling me how I'm to behave and what it is that you want from me, rather than antagonizing me and deliberately trying to get a rise out of me?”
Peter tried to look calm, but he felt he'd never been prouder of anyone in his life.
Marianne couldn't understand. Unprofessional behavior such as this didn't occur in her world, and she couldn't tell how any of this was work. The Betty woman had it in for her the moment she walked through the door, and that made no sense at all.
Suddenly Betty smiled. “Good work, sweetheart! Defend yourself strongly. That's lesson number one.”
Relief flooded over Marianne. She glanced slightly toward Peter, and he smiled. She couldn't tell if he'd been in on the whole thing or not. Smiling with them, she said, “God. You had me going there.”
“Oh, love, sorry about that, but you'll need a tough skin. Especially if our little plan doesn't work tomorrow,” Betty explained.
At this point, Alan interrupted. “Here's how it goes. You have not been doing Joe's books for a while, because he got you to stop recently. Right?”
Marianne nodded.
“So the way we see it,” Derek continued, “is that you're like any other bookkeeper. Once you've left the job, you've left the job, and the books speak for themselves. Our job, and your job by the way you look, is to make sure it stays that small. That no one has any reason to think that it's bigger.”
Betty had been watching her the whole time. “Look, love, you seem pretty bright. You must be able to tell that no one goes to court over a GST issue. We're pretty sure that they're going to try to bring something else into this battle, and we just want to play it our way as much as we can.”
“Okay.” Marianne felt confident and with them as a team. “What is it that you want me to do?”
At that point, a knock at the door interrupted them.
“Food's up,” announced Betty as she stood. Peter went straight for the front door, and Betty arranged bowls in the kitchen. When Peter returned with the food, the two of them arranged the meals in silence. These were well-practiced moves, and Marianne could see they'd had many late nights with takeaway, moving fast so as not to interrupt the flow of ideas.
Almost on cue, Betty stood in front of Marianne and handed her a bowl of steaming hot chicken stew with coconut milk. As if there had been no interruption, she went on.
“Don't show up to the hearing. We don't want you there.” Marianne hoped she didn't look too crestfallen.” I know that it's probably more important to you than anyone else in this room, but you'll have to wait for one of us to contact you. We can't have you reaching out for Peter at this time. It's essential that the two of you look like there is nothing going on.” She paused and looked at Peter again. “And seeing as you have seen each other every day since you met, that is not going to be so easy.”
This news disappointed Marianne. She'd wanted to see Peter perform in court, and she rather enjoyed the idea of seeing Joe squirm. But all frivolity aside, the outcome held potentially grave implications for her. She wanted to avoid those, so she would do whatever it took.
“Also,” said Alan, “I'm taking you home tonight.”
Peter leaped in at this point. “Hold on. That's not necessary.”
Betty gave him a frosty stare, and Marianne wondered if anyone ever stood up to Betty.
“Don't argue here or we really will think that there is more than just sex between the two of you, note or no note.”
Marianne froze. She knew she had to act like nothing went on between them, but she had no idea that Peter had told them the sex held no meaning. The old doubts regarding the note rose to the surface again.
She felt suddenly ill. Overwhelmed, she wanted to get out straightaway. She felt foolish, as if she'd taken a sharp one in the belly.
She looked over at Peter. He laughed at something that Betty said that Marianne hadn't heard. Maybe she'd have trouble handling this after all.
She had promised Peter that she would behave and not take anything personally, and now she had a chance to prove that. She would worry about the details of their affair later. She had to be strong now.
“No, no, it's fine,” Marianne said. “Alan can take me home. Let's get this right so that we can get it over with.”
“That's the way,” said Alan.
Peter looked hard at Marianne, but she couldn't read his face, so she smiled sweetly and tried to make her eyes appear warm. He smiled back, but Marianne thought she caught a vague glimpse of hesitancy there.
“Okay, that's the ticket, then. You two go now so that we can go over the last of the work that we have to do.” Betty moved into work mode. She seemed to want to get home herself.
Marianne stood up and bravely grabbed her bag, not wanting to look too long at Peter. He'll probably call me later anyway, she thought with relief.
“Shit. The food. Alan, you'll have yours back here. Marianne, do you want to take yours home?”
Marianne smiled at Peter. “Sure. I'll have it at my apartment.”
Peter stepped forward to grab her bowl from her, but before she could glance into his eyes, he'd turned into the kitchen, pouring her food into a container with a lid. A moment of awkwardness followed as Betty and Derek clumsily stood, holding bowls and chopsticks, and tried to pat her back. At least Betty did. Derek tried to hug her. She smiled and pulled back, miraculously not getting Derek's chicken laksa down her clothes.
Peter and Alan walked her toward the door, and Peter stepped forward to open it. Without hesitating, he passed the small plastic bag with the food to Marianne, giving her finger the briefest squeeze as she took it from him. Or maybe she imagined it? Alan and Marianne stepped through the door, and then they were alone in the cor
ridor with the door to Peter's place shut behind them.
“This way.” Alan led her down the hall to the elevator that she had gotten out of with Peter in what now seemed like days before. “I'm parked in the street. That'll be a good thing if there is actually anyone following you tonight.”
They rode the elevator to the ground floor, and stepped out through the doors. Striding through the corridor, Marianne got a good view out on the street. Everything looked okay. Walking through the larger double doors in front of Alan, she could see a few parked cars, but overall the street looked deserted to her.
“You have two following you tonight.”
Marianne turned toward Alan, puzzled.
“Don't forget you're not supposed to know. Please just keep walking and talking about your office gossip. And not too loud. The idea is that we don't want them to know they've been spotted.”
Marianne stepped into this role easily. “Well, I told Gary that I know he lied, the little sneak, and if he ever went through my bag again, I'd report him.”
“That's the problem with stuff like that. You gotta catch them in the act. And even then it is better to have witnesses.” Alan fell into place beside her, having no trouble picking up the thread of conversation.
“Would it be okay if I set something up for him?”
“He-he, we wish. That's what we call entrapment, and not even the cops are supposed to do that. Not that they don't. It's just illegal. However, it won't help you to be stuck with that at work. Better to just keep your bag with you and stay out of his way as much as possible.”
They walked past a dark car that had a driver in the front seat reading a newspaper.
God, could you get any more clichéd, Marianne thought.
Marianne enjoyed this and impressed herself with the subject matter she chose so swiftly. Gary went through her bag at one point, she felt sure, though she'd never been able to prove it to anyone.
“What about if he's reading my e-mails?”
“That's different. Is it a work address?”
“Yes.”