Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection

by Tara Crescent

  30

  Sebastian

  Whoever receives friends and does not participate in the preparation of their meal does not deserve to have friends.

  Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

  The next two weeks are idyllic.

  Juliette’s off my back for the time being, since her investment consortium still hasn’t provided me with the numbers I’m looking for. “I’m following up all the time,” she assures me. I nod, secretly grateful that her relentless focus is being turned to someone else.

  At the restaurants, Ben seems to have settled down, and Helen reports that she’s whipping the line cooks into shape at Seb II. Our Yelp reviewers seem largely positive, and night after night, our tables are fully booked. The second Michelin star is doing wonders for our bottom line.

  “I’m making you richer,” I quip to Daniel as we watch Bailey play pool on Wednesday night. In a few short weeks, her improvement has been amazing. Today, she’s circling the table, her movements confident, looking for her next shot. Such a difference from the timid mouse who was afraid of her breasts grazing the table. Fuck me, those gorgeous tits are a weapon. The poor guy playing opposite her can’t keep his eyes away from them.

  Bailey walks over to us, interrupting my dark thoughts about her opponent’s eyes and where he can put them. “Which ball should I aim for?” She frowns. “I don’t want him to run the table if I miss.”

  Per pool league rules, Bailey can use two ‘advice’ breaks. Daniel’s paying more attention to the game, so he responds. “Try for the green,” he says. “Even if you miss, the cue ball is going to be in a terrible position for his follow-up shot, and you’ll get another go.”

  “Devious,” she quips. “This is all very ‘Art of War’ material. No wonder you two are so good at it.”

  “Sun Tzu has nothing on us,” I agree. “Now, get back in there and kick ass, Bailey.”

  She gives us a mocking bow that reveals a breath-taking amount of cleavage. My dick stirs instantly and I can tell she knows the effect she’s having on me, because when she straightens, her eyes are locked on my crotch. “Brat,” I accuse her. “Go play.”

  She wins in pretty convincing fashion, and she’s delighted by it. It’s the first time she’s won every single game in a match. Once we are done toasting to her success over a shot of vodka, we wait out the rest of the games. Clark is melting down as usual because he’s playing a woman, and Juliette’s standing off to one side, typing something into a phone. She’s been acting weird, Juliette, but I’m too involved in my own life to get fussed about it.

  “You staying over tonight?” Daniel asks her.

  “Only if you let me grade.” She gestures to her laptop bag, bulging at the seams. “I have to get some of this stuff done tonight, and you two have a way of distracting me from work.”

  “We’ll keep our hands off you,” I promise solemnly.

  She rolls her eyes. “That,” she says, her lips curling upwards into a smile that she tries to hide, “is a lie.”

  “Nope,” I laugh. “I promise to keep my hands off you, but I make no guarantees about you keeping your hands off me.”

  “Vain much?” She looks around and steps closer to us. “It’s true, I can’t keep my hands off you.” Her face flushes. “I’m becoming some kind of nympho.”

  “You are a tiger, Bailey.” Daniel starts to touch her before he remembers he’s in a public place and checks himself. “Always responsive, always ready.”

  “Always wet,” I add, teasing her. “It’s very flattering.”

  She goes beet-red, then she laughs good-naturedly. “I blame you two for that. I used to be a normal person before we met.”

  She’s joking. As mushy as it sounds, we are all better people around each other. Daniel works less, and seems to be happier for it. I don’t lose my temper quite as readily. Bailey accepts she’s a beautiful woman.

  Because there’s three of us, two can always entertain each other if the third is working, and no one’s left resentful. I’m a chef - working long hours is always going to be part of my life. More than that, I work evenings and weekends, and that’s always made dating difficult. It’s an odd thing to voluntarily be in a ménage, but strangely, it’s working better than any relationship has ever worked in my life.

  “You hungry, Bailey?” I ask her, when we get to Daniel’s place. We shared a plate of appetizers at the Maxwell Club, but she probably forgot to eat all day, immersed in her work. We are stretched out on the couch, Bailey sitting between the two of us. If only she didn’t need to correct papers…

  “I’m starving,” she admits, “but don’t get up. You’ve been in the kitchen all day. I can fix myself something. Daniel usually has ingredients for a stir-fry or something.” She rises to her feet. “Come on, billionaire boy. You can help me.”

  “Billionaire boy?” Daniel snorts. “Geez, that’s a flattering nickname.”

  I rise to my feet as well. “This I have to see,” I announce. “Daniel Hartman cooking. Have you ever turned on a stove burner by yourself?”

  He looks embarrassed as he leads the way to the kitchen. “Probably,” he says defensively, “though I can’t remember when.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Bailey eyes Daniel with open astonishment. “You are an adult. How do you manage?”

  “Restaurants,” he admits sheepishly. I’m getting quite a kick out of watching Daniel squirm. It happens so rarely. “Take out. And Sebastian cooks whenever he’s here. You know. Billionaire stuff.”

  “We are fixing this now,” she announces. “Don’t worry, Daniel. I’ll teach you.”

  Unsurprisingly, Daniel’s not terribly inept. Bailey slices the vegetables and Daniel tends to the stove, and in about fifteen minutes, the stir-fry is ready. They skip making rice - it’s too late for carbohydrates.

  They both turn to me with expectant faces when I taste the food, and I stifle a laugh. “It’s not bad,” I tell them. I wink at Bailey. “You, I might hire. This guy, on the other hand…”

  “This guy owns half your restaurants,” Daniel retorts with a grin. “Okay, how about an hour of work before we go to bed? I do have some emails to read and respond to.”

  “I’m surprised you held off as long as you did,” I say over my shoulder, as we head back to the living room. Daniel used to be like Juliette, huddled over his phone when he wasn’t playing pool. Nowadays, he actually puts his phone away when he gets to the club, and doesn’t reach for it until we are done for the evening. A definite improvement.

  Bailey pulls out a stack of papers to grade. “No fooling around,” she warns us sternly, as we settle on either side of her. “I need to get this done.”

  “How’s the writing going?” I ask her. She’s working on a paper with some kind of anthropology super-star, but she’s been unimpressed with the experience so far. From the sounds of it, she’s doing all the heavy lifting and her co-writer is coasting on his celebrity.

  She makes a face. “Don’t ask. He was supposed to send me twenty pages. Instead he sent me two paragraphs. Two paragraphs of rambling text with not a single source. Kill me now.”

  Daniel shakes his head. “Poor Bailey.” He pulls up his laptop and starts typing. “Seb, you going to be bored while we work?”

  “Can you guys concentrate if I watch TV?”

  They both nod. “In that case, I’m good.”

  We all do our own things for a while, and it feels extremely intimate. Daniel’s fingers tapping away at the keyboard, Bailey’s pen scratching at the papers she’s correcting, with the sound of Sports Centre in the background. I’m tired from an extremely long day at the restaurant, and my eyes are beginning to shut, when I hear Daniel clear his throat.

  “Bailey?” He sounds hesitant. “There’s a big company gala coming up next week. Would you like to come?”

  I look up. Daniel has been more relaxed in the last couple of weeks, but as far as I know, all the restrictions about not courting publicity still apply. His deal is movin
g along at a steadier pace now that he’s lit a fire under Cyrus, but it’s not done yet.

  Bailey looks surprised as well. “Really?”

  He looks uncomfortable. “I don’t like that fact that I have to hide you,” he says. His wave encompasses me as well. “What the three of us share is important to me.” He makes a face. “I have an obligation to my company and I can’t acknowledge you publically as my girlfriend until this deal falls into place. But I would like you to be there.”

  “And you?” Bailey’s looking at me. “Are you going to be there as well?”

  “Daniel’s assistant Sophie likes me,” I grin. “I get invited every year.”

  She stiffens at that, and I put my arm around her. “There’s only one woman I can’t take my eyes off,” I scold her softly. “Only one woman that matters. You should know that.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” she says. “I mean, come on. You two are among the city’s most eligible bachelors.”

  “That sounds like the Post talking,” Daniel replies. “If ‘eligible’ is a calculation of our net worth, then yes, I guess we are very eligible. But we work all the time, and we’d probably make terrible boyfriends. I don’t think you could drag Sebastian into a dance club, even if you dangled a third Michelin star in front of him. I mean, look at us now. One of us is working, the other has no energy to do anything other than watch Sports Centre.”

  “That’s a lie, baby, don’t listen to him.” I wink at Bailey. “I have plenty of energy for what matters.” I put my hand on her thigh and move it up toward her sweet, sweet pussy, and she giggles and brushes my hand away.

  “I have papers to correct, Sebastian,” she says sternly. “About this party,” she says to Daniel. “When is it?”

  “In a week. Saturday night. It’s at the MOMA,” he adds persuasively.

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course it is.” She gives the essay she’s reading an A, then looks up. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Daniel? I’d love to go, but I don’t want to put your deal at risk. Is it worth it for something that has an expiration date?”

  I sit up at that. “What do you mean, has an expiration date?”

  She doesn’t meet our eyes. “Look, you guys have a bet to win and I want to beat Trevor. What we are doing is nice, and I’m really enjoying myself. But is it real?”

  Daniel has gone still on the other side of me. “What do you mean, is it real? What are you talking about? You think we are here right now because of the stupid bet?”

  “Look at me,” I order Bailey, and she reluctantly listens. “Here’s the only question that matters. What do you want? Do you want us to have an expiration date?”

  I can’t breathe as I wait for her answer, but she doesn’t leave us hanging for long. “No,” she whispers. “I really don’t want this to end.”

  Though her words are exactly what I want to hear, I can tell from her expression that there’s something she’s not telling us. I exchange a glance with Daniel. I wonder if he knows what’s going on.

  31

  Bailey

  I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.

  Helen Keller

  “So,” Wendy looks expectantly at me. “Tell us everything.”

  I’ve missed the last three Monday night drinking sessions. The first week, I’d missed it because I’d left, filled with a sense of righteous indignation, to tell Daniel Hartman exactly what I thought about his stupid endowment. The last two weeks, work has been a bitch and I’ve had to work late every evening to keep my head above water. The midterm assignment of the undergraduate Introduction to Cultural Anthropology class is to write a twenty-page paper. I’ve been reading about the cultural impact of Miley Cyrus, twerking, and Lady Gaga’s meat dress all weekend. I’m very up-to-date on pop culture right now.

  In my absence, the girls couldn’t get their curiosity sated. It’s Monday night again, and I’m around, which means it’s time for the drinking and the inquisition. Four sets of eyes are staring at me, waiting for me to describe the last few weeks of my life. Normally, there’d be a virtual set of eyes as well, but Miki texted earlier, saying she couldn’t Skype in.

  “Okay, what do you know so far?” I ask. I’m not entirely displeased about being ambushed for details. Daniel’s request for me to attend his company party has confused me, and our discussion about whether our relationship’s expiration date has set my head spinning. I need the collective wisdom of the women in this room.

  “No, no, no.” Piper’s in her customary place at the rocking chair, Jasper curled up on her lap. “That’s a delaying tactic. Out with it. Tell us everything.”

  “Where should I start?” I sigh. “I’m having a threesome with two ridiculously hot guys.”

  “Yes,” Wendy’s voice is impatient. “We know. Daniel Hartman and Sebastian Ardalan.”

  “Right. And you guys know about the bet?”

  “What bet?”

  “I thought I told you,” I frown at Gabby. “Daniel bet Clark fifty grand that I’d win my tournament game at the end of this season. Also, no offense, Gabby, but your friend Clark’s a dick.”

  She grimaces. “Trust me, Bails, Clark Ellis isn’t my friend. He’s just a co-worker.”

  “They bet on you?” Wendy looks intrigued. “Are you mad at them?”

  “No way,” I laugh. “Are you kidding me? I want to beat Trevor, remember? They are giving me a ton of coaching.”

  “No doubt,” Katie interjects slyly.

  “I meant with my pool game,” I blush, and the girls all laugh at me. I flip them off and drink some of the delicious mojitos that Gabby, our resident mixed-drink genius, has made.

  “You’ve been seeing them for a few weeks now,” Katie continues. “Where does this go?” Katie’s the most practical one of us. Trust her to ask the question.

  “Glad you asked,” I sigh. “I don’t know.” I tell them about being invited to Daniel’s company gala. “What does it mean?”

  “Why don’t you ask them?” Wendy suggests.

  “I did. I asked if there was an expiration date to the threesome, and they said no.”

  Piper wolf-whistles from her corner. Jasper starts at the noise, looking indignant and preparing to jump off and seek a quieter corner for his nap. Then he stretches slowly, and settles back down on Piper’s lap. Piper shakes her head at his antics. “Cat,” she mutters in mock irritation. “So let me get this straight. You are in a threesome and it’s a proper relationship? What’s that like?”

  “Surprisingly normal.” I blush. “Well, aside from the sex, of course.”

  Wendy chuckles. “Tell us about the sex, Bails,” she sing-songs. “Leave no dirty detail out.”

  “I’m not going to kiss and tell.” I grin at Wendy’s sigh of disappointment. “But Daniel and Sebastian are so hot that they’ve replaced most of the regulars in my mental slide-show of masturbation material. Sorry, Clooney and Pitt.”

  “I know.” Katie fans herself. “I saw Sebastian Ardalan’s new cookbook in the stores the other day. The cover stopped me dead in the tracks.”

  “Why?” Wendy asks.

  “Because he’s bare-chested in the photo,” Katie giggles. “He’s all muscled and ripped and hot, and the book’s called Heat.”

  “Don’t forget the tattoos,” Gabby grins. She’s seen the cover too. “I couldn’t get a clear look at them in the picture. What are they, Bailey? You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

  I make a rude gesture in her direction. “He hates that cover,” I tell them. “His agent made him do it.” I frown. “She’s creepy. I don’t like her. Do you know she’s already warned me away from him?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. She followed me one day to the bathroom and told me to stay away from Sebastian. She told me that he had a brief period to take advantage of the Michelin star, and I was a distraction.”

  “The bitch.” Gabby sounds incensed. “What did the guys say when you told them?”

  �
�I haven’t. It’s not that big a deal, really. She just shoots me these death glares from time to time. I’m a big girl. I can handle Juliette.”

  “If you insist.” Gabby doesn’t sound convinced. Then her expression turns mischievous. “And then there’s the hundred and fifty million dollar gift. Have you guys heard about that?”

  “What?” Everyone shrieks again, and three sets of heads swivel to me.

  “Thanks, Gabby,” I say dryly. “That was really helpful. It wasn’t a gift, you guys. It was an endowment to the NYU.” I fill them in on the details, and once again, they hang on my every word. We all have dating adventures to discuss from time to time, but a threesome is still outside the norm.

  “You’re frowning,” Wendy points out. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I sigh. “They are so out of my league, you know. And the threesome thing, is that really practical? Besides, in a few months, I’m going to Argentina. I just feel like I’m setting myself up for a world of hurt. ”

  Katie snorts. “Bailey, you went to Siberia for a year. I wouldn’t exactly describe you as practical. Does it really bother you that this isn’t very conventional?”

  I think about it. “I don’t think so,” I tell them. “I guess I’m just kind of pinching myself. They are really gorgeous, they are really nice, and they want me. It feels unreal, you know? I keep waiting for reality to kick in.” I down the rest of my mojito and Gabby helpfully refills it. An empty glass rarely stays that way on drinking night.

  “You know,” Gabby says. “As much as I distrust all guys on principle, I have to acknowledge that good guys exist. I mean, Adam’s amazing.”

  “Yes he is,” Katie agrees smugly. “I have impeccable taste.”

  Gabby shakes her head, a smile on her lips. “And from the sounds of it, Daniel and Sebastian seem pretty good too. Don’t be so eager to find a problem, Bailey. Listen to your instincts. Do you think you can trust them?”