by Devon Hart
“You know him?” Katie asks.
I turn, hoping all color hasn’t drained from my face. Time to make my own confession. “Too well.”
“Can I close the store for a few moments?” Mary asks.
Another tell-everything session at the cost of my dignity and privacy. “Yes.”
She rushes away.
“Talk about skeletons in the closet,” Katie remarks. “What dark secrets have you been keeping?”
I drum my fingers on the desk, waiting for my gossip-hungry groupie to return. A few minutes later, I’m pacing, and the girls are waiting expectantly.
“Sorry I haven’t been completely forthcoming about my past, Katie. I never thought I’d have to explain myself. Hell, I never thought Foster would come back into my life. We dated my sophomore year in high school. He played football and basketball, chased all the cheerleaders, had über wealthy parents, and the biggest ego.”
“What happened?” Mary asks.
“I refused to sleep with him.”
“That’s it?” Katie asks.
Her question quickly reminds me of why I left public school, to get away from the past. “Don’t dig too deep.”
Her brown eyes narrow like she’s offended, but I know she’ll respect my wishes in front of Mary. “Before or after pinkie guy?”
“Before.”
“Oh dear,” Mary says.
Maybe if I make them laugh I can end the conversation on a high note and they’ll forget about it. “I left him on his parents’ deck with his shorts wrapped around his ankles. He actually crawled after me, begging me to come back.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“You’ll never go back to work unless I finish the story, will you, Mary?”
She grins.
“We were getting friendly and Foster decided to show me how well-endowed he was.”
Katie lets out a hoot, her body convulsing with laughter. “Did Mr. Penis scare the shit out of you?”
“Terrified me.”
“That explains everything,” she teases. “You went from one extreme to the other. Feast or famine. Poor baby.” She pats my arm reassuringly. “So you need something in the middle.”
“I don’t know, Katie.” I really don’t. After I walked out on Erik, knowing he’d never be able to sexually satisfy me, I let my studies consume me. I transferred to a private school and graduated at the top of my class. Since then, I’ve dated plenty of men, but none captured my attention—until now. “Foster Wagner is a misogynistic pig. Ever read the newspaper? A different woman every week.”
“You sound jealous,” Katie observes.
“Shocked. I can’t believe he showed up in my store after all these years.”
“Maybe he wants to finish what he started.”
“Go. Back. To. Work. Mary.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She scrambles from the office.
“Little Mary is more perceptive than I’ve ever given her credit for.”
“She devours romances like M&Ms. I’ve created a monster.”
“You expanded the smut section,” she points out.
“Just following market trends.”
“Why didn’t you confront Foster?”
Good question. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should forget the party and call him. I bet he’ll fuck you.”
“I’d sooner join one of those dating clubs than sleep with Foster Wagner. I’ll never give him the satisfaction. Ever.”
All the animosity I’ve kept bottled up suddenly surfaces. Truth be told, I adored him. But his lewd behavior had left a lasting impression. I couldn’t look him in the eyes when we passed each other in the hallways at school. I knew our secret was safe. He’d never admit he got turned down. I sigh.
“Never say never.” Katie gives me a hug. “People change.”
As soon as she’s gone, I open my picture archive on the computer. There’s two files containing photographs from high school. I find the ones I’m looking for, a weekend camping trip to Port A. Foster and I looked so happy together. That’s before I knew what lurked beneath his sweet ‘Texas boy’ façade. “They call it the past for a reason.”
I close the file and open my accounting program.
Foster
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” I tell my best friend, Kevin Mallory. We’re having lunch at the Corpus Christi Country Club. “She’s as aloof and beautiful as the day I met her.”
“You mean frigid?”
“I admit she’s a bit frosty. But if I didn’t know better . . .” I banish an absurd thought from my mind.
“What?” My friend puts his fork down and stares at me. “She prefers women?” That’s his excuse for any female who doesn’t throw herself at me.
“No.”
He rolls his eyes. “She’s the only one that ever denied you.”
I rub my chin, regretting I told him. “Makes the game that much sweeter.”
“But if she’s not into men . . .”
“Trust me.” Erin is too provincial to stray outside the lines. “She just hasn’t found the right one.” A server brings our steaks and baked potatoes. I drape a linen napkin over my legs. “Another scotch and soda.”
The waiter disappears.
“The hardest part is over.” I check my watch. “By now, her employee has reported everything. I’d give up a month’s salary to see the look on Erin’s face when she realized who I was.”
“I can’t believe she didn’t recognize you.”
“It’s been eight years.”
Kevin shovels a piece of meat into his mouth, then takes a swig of water. “Still think you should have introduced yourself.”
“Some things are worth waiting for. She’s not the kind of woman who gives anything up easily.”
A few minutes into our meal, Kevin’s cell vibrates. He scoops it off the table, grins, then holds it up for me to see. “Guess who just RSVP’d?”
I snatch the iPhone and stare at the screen. Holy shit, I underestimated Erin. She’s audacious enough to accept my invitation. Of course she’ll never know how or why she got it, but I’m pleased. What happened to the incorruptible little prude from high school? Has she finally surrendered to her sensuality, learned to accept what comes naturally to everyone? Is she into kink? By responding, she’s proven one thing, she’s into something, and I plan on finding out what it is.
“Plan B,” I say, cutting into my T-bone. “You can collect a blood and urine sample from her tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
“I don’t want to disappoint the lady.” I wanted Erin to make the choice on how I’d proceed with her. “We already have her medical records and college transcripts. She exceeds our standards. But treat her the same way we do any new recruit. If she wants to join Lazarus, she needs to pass the final test.”
“But she’s not just any other woman.”
“Until I say otherwise, she is.”
Kevin is my right hand when it comes to anything involving the club. He’s a medical doctor and maintains a private practice that caters to a handful of wealthy families in South Texas. He’s also a platinum member of my club.
Last year, Texas dominated the Fortune 500 list with fifty-two companies. Quantum Energy, my father’s corporation, was ranked two hundred.
Now that I’m a vice president, I reap the benefits of a senior executive. Lazarus is listed as a social club, but sex sells, and I’ve cashed in on it since college. What harm is there in offering consenting adults a place to indulge themselves? Men and women alike are subjected to rigorous background checks and medical screenings. If there’s ever a change in status, whether financial, criminal, or health-related, membership can be revoked without quest
ion. It’s about discretion and keeping everyone safe.
Our next gala is on Halloween, three weeks away, where hopefully Erin will make her debut. The location is never revealed until the night of the event. New members are blindfolded and delivered by limousine to ensure their safety and our continued secrecy. We’ve had a couple close calls in the past, tenacious journalists breeching security. It helps having several judges on our roster. Gag orders or the threat of an expensive libel suit have chilled any public discussions concerning our activities.
“Right,” he comments. “Do I have to spend four thousand dollars to get her attention?”
“No, asshole,” I answer. “Show her your credentials. If she’s truly interested, she’ll cooperate. If she gives you any problems, leave.”
“I hope her pussy is solid gold. I’ve never seen you go to such extremes to get laid.”
Chapter 4
Foster
The next morning, dressed in my favorite power suit, I park outside Erin’s bookstore and review her profile for the hundredth time. With my professional connections, I have access to private records. I scan the last page. She’s 5’5, 120 pounds, athletic, and in good health. Kevin will consider her the perfect specimen. We’ll find out after he examines her in his downtown office this afternoon.
I secure the file in my brief case, then grab the bouquet of green orchids off my backseat. Mary greets me from the counter.
“Mr. Wagner?”
“Good morning Mary. Is Erin here?”
“She’s in the back.”
“Can I find my own way?”
She eyeballs the flowers and smiles. “Don’t tell her I said yes.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
I end up at a closed door and knock.
“Come in.”
I peek inside. Her face is buried in a book and she doesn’t look up. “Need help, Mary?”
“I’ll let you decide.”
At the sound of my voice, her head snaps up. “Foster Wagner.”
I step into her office. “That’s all you have to say to me after all these years?”
“It’s more than you deserve.”
I laugh, knowing Erin is all pretense; I can tell from the way she sits and her tight expression. “Still can’t forgive me for being young?”
“You mean desperate?”
“Testosterone.”
“Don’t blame your hormones for crude behavior.” Her gaze sweeps downward, pausing on my crotch.
“Memory lane?”
She blushes, then glares at me. “Don’t be rude.”
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” I lay the flowers on her desk. “Peace offering?”
“Light green orchids.” She looks confused. “How did you know? There’s at least fifty stems here. I can’t accept such an extravagant gift.”
“A peace offering.”
“Foster.”
I love the way she says my name. Those lips should be wrapped around my cock, not chastising me for past sins.
“Why are you here?”
“To reconnect.”
“We didn’t part on good terms.”
“I’m fully aware.” The painful memory has never faded, but I’ll do anything to make it up to her. I’ve waited years for this moment. “Let’s have lunch.”
“I-I . . .”
“It’s not a lifelong commitment, Erin, it’s lunch.”
She sets her book aside. “I know.”
“Is that a yes?”
She shakes her head. “What about yesterday?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“I wanted to see if you’d figure it out.”
“But you told Mary you didn’t like Edgar Allan Poe. Return the books, Foster, they’re too valuable to end up with someone who doesn’t appreciate them. I don’t like games.”
“No?” I ask, knowing differently. “Who said anything about a game?”
She stands, rubbing her hands together. “So I’m supposed to believe you waltz in here to simply reconnect after you spent nearly five thousand dollars on me over the course of two days?”
“Five thousand?” I play stupid.
“Those flowers cost a fortune.”
“I didn’t ask for a receipt.”
“My goodness.” She edges closer, a mixture of emotions on her pretty face. “Is it possible the obnoxious jock has grown a heart? Learned to be a gentleman?” She’s so close I can smell her delicate perfume over the fragrant flowers. “Did your mother put you up to this?”
“My mother?” I laugh. “She’s on an extended holiday in Italy.”
“Your father? Our parents still play golf together.”
“I haven’t spoken to the old man in weeks.”
“I suppose you were never the kind of son who took orders very well.” She perches on the edge of her desk, her legs spread wide enough so I can see the shape of her pussy lips through her snug jeans. “Congratulations on your successful business endeavors. How was Saudi Arabia?”
That catches me off guard. I’m starting to think she recognized me in the book store, but didn’t want to admit it. “You’ve kept up with my career?”
“My mother keeps me up-to-date and I occasionally watch the local news.”
A perfectly reasonable explanation, but it still surprises me. “My sixth trip in four years. We’re about to close a deal on wind turbines. Green energy is the future.”
“I agree, but how can you specialize in environmentally friendly technologies and pump the earth dry of petroleum and natural gas at the same time. This fracking bullshit is a nightmare. Earthquakes near Dallas?”
I brush a stray hair out of her eyes. “Geopolitics mostly. But don’t get too preachy, baby. If I want to debate environmental issues, I’ll call the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality. Right now, all I want is to spend time with you.”
She presses her lips together. “Just searching for moral and intellectual clarity.”
“Something I’m sure you’d swear I’ve never had.”
“There’s always hope.”
I chuckle. She’s still my angel, the moral compass I always needed to help keep me on the straight and narrow. Only she’s gone from pretty to beautiful.
“If I agree to meet you for lunch, will you stop harassing me?”
“Can’t make any promises.” I’d do anything for her, but I can’t let her know that too soon.
She folds her hands on her lap, staring up at me. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered or run. You always were cocky, Foster.”
And you were always a patronizing little tease I couldn’t get enough of. With all the references and stares at my man parts, I know what she’s thinking about.
I reach around her and pick up the phone. “Mary?”
“Mr. Wagner?”
“Do you keep vases in the break room?”
“Yes.”
“Please bring a large one filled with cool water to Ms. Covington’s office.” I replace the headset, letting my arm brush against Erin’s thigh. “Easy fix. If you don’t get those expensive flowers into water, they’ll wilt.”
“This is a waste of time.”
She slides off the desk, but I block her path. “If you didn’t want me here, you would have ordered me out of your office.”
“Maybe,” she admits. “Or perhaps I’m just getting my daily dose of entertainment.” She gazes up at me, her forehead creased in stubbornness.
I’m lost in her eyes, wishing I could bypass all the formalities and just fuck her now.
“Lunch tomorrow, one o’clock. And I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”
“Merciless.” Her sarcastic laughter jolts me.
“Mercy has nothing to do with it, baby.” I walk to the door, then turn back to drink her in one more time. “No jeans.”
“You’ll never change.” She flings a pen at me.
Erin
A few minutes later, Mary wanders into my office with a crystal vase. “The flowers are beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like them.” I’m still shocked and frustrated I let Foster manipulate me. “Take them away.”
“Where?”
“Put them up front. I’m sure the customers will enjoy them.”
“Did Mr. Wagner upset you?”
I look up from my paperwork, finding it difficult to mask my emotions. “In too many ways to count. But we’re having lunch tomorrow.”
She arranges the orchids a few stems at a time. “He’s very handsome.”
“And arrogant . . .”
“Rich.”
“A total player.”
She studies me. “He’s the guy I’d choose for a one-night stand to remember for the rest of my life.”
Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind a hundred times already. Coincidence means little in my regimented world. Fate, however, that carries weight. I’m not unlike Mary. Whenever no one is watching, I inhale a romance or two. Turns out I want what every woman desires, freedom to express myself without feeling guilty, especially sexually. If I mentioned the words vagina or penis at home, my mother practically fainted. My father imparted what I needed to know about making babies when I reached middle school, but nothing more. If Mom had her way, I’d still believe boys could impregnate me with a kiss.
“Are you all right?”