by Tia Siren
He didn't answer. “Now call Mel at the restaurant and tell her to go into my apartment. Under the bed there is a black box the size of a cigarette packet. She should bring it here.” He coughed and winced. “Tell her to grab my wallet from the bedside cabinet and some of my clothes. She should close the restaurant and come here. Tell her to be quick.”
Nicki dialed the restaurant and told Mel what Andrey wanted her to do. While they were waiting for Mel to show up, Andrey took his opportunity.
“I want you, Nicki. I want to be with you and be the father of our child.”
She gasped and fought back the tears. “Then why didn't you tell me when I came to you? Why did you send me away in such a cruel manner?” She didn't understand his behavior, and she wanted some answers.
“Sokolov. Because of Sokolov. When you told me you were going to try and interview him, I wanted you to know how dangerous it was.” He gulped some more air before continuing. “I didn't want him to see you hanging around me. And when you arrived at the restaurant, pregnant, I had to be cruel and send you away. For your own sake. He's a racist and will kill you if he finds out about our child. Forgive me, but I could see no other way at the time.”
“So you cared for me all along?”
“Yes, very much. I have been thinking about you all the time.”
“Then why didn't you give me some indication, anything?”
“Because I wanted to do something for you first.”
“What?”
“Wait until Mel gets here.”
They sat and held hands as they waited for Mel. Nicki tried to kiss him on the lips, but the pain was too great. She ended up kissing him on the top of the forehead.
When Mel arrived, she was carrying a bag that was almost bigger than her.
“Did you find the small black box?” he asked. She nodded and held it up.
“And your wallet and some clothes. Hi, Nicki, by the way,” she added.
“Right, listen to me, both of you. I've got a house nobody knows about. It's in Montana. I want you both to go there and wait for me. When I get out of here, I'll come to you. You'll be safe there, and if Nicki does her job properly, we'll soon be safe forever.”
Nicki understood the part about going to Montana, but not the part about her doing her job properly. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Take the black box, open it, and listen to the tape inside.”
She took the box from Mel and opened the lid. Inside there was a tiny recorder. She pressed the play button and listened.
“Andrey, my boy, have you come to apologize?”
“No. I've come to tell you that you are a two-bit piece of shit. You're nothing but a lowlife whore fucker. All you've done with your life is threaten and rob people. You've never done half the things attributed to you. Everyone thinks you're a tough guy. You’re not. You're a pussy.”
“I've done more with my life than you will ever do. Who do you think you are? I'm gonna kill you. Leave this to me.”
“You're just a showoff, leaving everyone to think that you killed Judge Hudson but got away with it. Why don't you ever deny it? Everybody knows the jury was right. You haven't got the balls to kill anybody.”
“I killed Judge Hudson, just like I'm gonna kill you.”
“You didn't. You're a liar and a cheat. I've never met anybody so full of bullshit.”
“I tell you, I killed him with this gun.”
“Bring him over here. Lift him up. Take him and dump him next to the freeway.”
“But how?” Nicki asked when the tape stopped.
“That wire in my jeans transmitted the signal to the recorder. I knew if I goaded him, he would give us something. I did it for you, Nicki. If you get this story right, your career will take off like you never expected. It's a hot story. Take it and use it. The world will think you are the best journalists alive. The murder weapon is a Magnum; he keeps it in a drawer in the sitting room.”
Nicki had no idea what to say.
“Mel, give me my wallet.” He took out a couple of cards. “Here are two credit cards. Use them to pay for the journey. There is a car in the garage in Montana, so you can go and get supplies. Here's the address and the number of the housekeeper.” He handed Nicki a note.
*****
Nicki and Andrey stood outside the church and applauded as Mel and her new husband, a rancher from Great Falls, Montana, came out to cheers and lots of confetti. Nicki bent down to Andrey Junior and helped him and his toy elephant onto his father's shoulders.
“Well, Journalist of the Year 2015, what do you think of that? Almost as good as our wedding, wasn't it?” Andrey said.
Nicki nodded and kissed him.
*****
Three weeks later
“Andrey, where do you want me to hang this?” Nicki shouted.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The article about Sokolov being sentenced to life in prison.”
“The best place for him is the toilet.”
*****
THE END
Billionaire Ménage Romance – The Bad Boy Billionaire
1
Dana loved her business. That was an odd thing to admit to herself since she had never even used a sex toy in her life. She pleasured herself of course, but she had never felt the need to use something like one of the latex dildo’s she rang up and placed into discrete black plastic bags for her customers.
Dana was three years out of business school, and she had known exactly the kind of business she wanted to be in. After all, sex sells. She opened The Treasure Box a month after graduating, and it hadn’t taken long for the little shop to take off. It was a squat square building with dim windows and a parking lot in the rear. Everyone liked to buy sex toys, but no one liked to be seen doing it.
The shop started off doing well, and Dana had hired Jeff, a thirty-something stoner to help out, and so she could actually have a day or two off here and there. Lately, though, the business had been down. The internet was cutting into her profits more and more, and she had let Jeff go. He had been more disappointed that he had never managed to get her into bed, more than he was bummed about losing his job.
Dana was attractive, and she knew it. She was lithe but curvy, with large breasts and a bubble butt. She had a flat tummy and long brown hair which she always pulled back into a simple ponytail. She didn’t put much effort into looking good, but she didn’t have to. Her lips were full and pouty, her eyes smoky and a grayish blue. She had white teeth and a perfect smile, and her voice was husky. Jeff had always said she looked like she could have been a famous actress in the forties.
She wasn’t quite twenty-five, and she had had a string of boyfriends since highschool, but none ever amounted to much of anything. Just a bit of fun, and then they wanted something more serious, and she freaked out and ended it.
Most guys expected her to be a sexual creature, owning a sex shop and everything, but Dana had always tended to be a little bit vanilla in bed. She had grown up in an ultra conservative household, and it had affected her. Her mother had almost fainted when she told her she was opening a shop which sold dildos and fake vaginas, and her father hadn’t talked to her for over a year. Things were better now, but her parents never asked about her business.
It was a Thursday when she met him. Gregory Jones, tall dark and handsome. He entered The Treasure Chest alone. It was ten in the morning; Dana had just opened. No one else was there yet, and the young woman had been stocking a new shipment of cock rings near the back of the store. She had heard the bell ring, a little silver chime which hung over the doorway, and was rocked when the door opened and hit it.
She called out to her new customer. “I’m back here, yell when you’re ready to check out.”
There wasn’t an answer for a moment, and it made Dana nervous. She stood up and turned, just in time to see the sexiest looking man she had ever seen step around the final aisle and smile at her. He was tanned and tall, with broad shoulders and a stron
g jaw that made it seem as though he had missed his calling as a superhero. His hair was fair, blonde and wavy though he kept it trimmed quite short. He was wearing a suit which looked expensive to even Dana’s eye, untrained as it was in such matters.
“Hey there,” the man said. “I could use your help.”
“What can I do for you?” Dana asked, and she realized she was holding a cock ring package. She put it down quickly, her cheeks burning. The man seemed to take note of her sudden flash of embarrassment, his brow rising on his forehead, but he was too much of a gentleman to say anything about it.
“Do you sell strapon dildos?”
Dana nodded. “Sure, follow me.”
She had to step around the man to get out of the aisle, and she brushed against him slightly, and when she did, it was as if her whole body exploded. She felt a heat, and she realized that she had just met the man, but she wanted him badly already.
She went towards the middle of the store, down an aisle with a few strapon dildo choices.
“Ah, thank you,” the man said.
“Sure, I’ll be up front when you’re ready,” Dana said, and she turned to leave, but the man held up a hand.
“Actually, I need some more help. I don’t know much about these.”
“Wife send you in?” Dana asked.
“Something like that,” Gregory laughed, and then he held up his hand, showing that he wore no ring. “No wife, though. Not really a girlfriend either. Just a woman, I’m afraid. I hope you don’t think I’m some sort of lecherous worm.”
“Hey, your business is your own business, and if it means you’re buying from me, it’s good business.”
“I’ve never had this request, I must admit,” the man said. “I’m certainly adventurous enough, but this young lady would like me to watch her… with one of her friends.”
Dana blushed again and nodded.
“Does sex embarrass you?” the man asked.
“No,” Dana whispered.
“I’m Greg,” the man said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
Dana shook his hand, and then, after hearing his name, she realized she knew him. Well, knew who he was at least.
“You’re Gregory Jones,” she said, and the man nodded. She went on. “You founded Cast Me dot com.”
CastMe.com was a website which had grown popular over the two years since its launch. Wannabe actors, singers, and other entertainers could pay a monthly fee to post demos on the site. Then management companies, production companies, and places like that, which had partnered with the site, could go and look for whatever they needed. More than a few new faces had been found for some big products, and everyone looking to make it big in entertainment was signing up. Greg had become a billionaire when he sold the site less than six months ago. Dana had known that Gregory Jones had grown up in her small town, but she didn’t know he ever came back.
“You visiting?” she asked.
“I moved home,” Greg said. “I’m just not a big city guy though we’re close enough that I can scratch certain itches when need be.”
“Itches like seeing your new friend with another girl?”
“Exactly,” Greg said. “I must say, though, you intrigue me more than she ever could, no matter what lewd acts she does with her friend.”
“I intrigue you?”
“Yes. You’re beautiful, you own a store which sells cock rings and vibrators, and yet you blush when talking about those products.”
“I don’t normally,” Dana said, somewhat defensively.
“I’d like to take you to dinner. This weekend?” the man asked her.
“I don’t know,” Dana said, but she did know. She didn’t want to be some second fiddle to whatever floozy he was buying the strap-on dildo for.
She thought he would argue, but the rich man simply reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a card out. He handed it to her, and she looked at it. It simply had his name and a phone number. The paper stock was thick, as luxurious as such a thing could be.
“If you change your mind, call me,” Greg said. “Now, which of these strap-on’s would you recommend?
Greg didn’t linger in Dana’s store, though he lingered on her mind. For the rest of the day, after he was long gone, she thought of him. That night she lay in bed, the TV on, casting her in a soft blue glow, but she didn’t pay attention to the Gilmore Girls rerun. She had the card in her hand, and she turned it over and over in her fingers. She glanced at her clock. It was almost midnight. She wasn’t sure she should call so late, but she reached for her cellphone and dialed the number anyways.
When Greg answered, he was panting. She thought he might be sleeping, but it dawned on her that he was probably screwing. She almost hung up, but something kept her from doing so.
“Hello?” the man said.
“I’m in,” she said.
“Fantastic, Dana,” Greg said. He had asked her name as he was checking out. “Text me your address, I’ll pick you up Saturday at eight.”
“Okay,” Dana said and hung up. She used her phone to google Greg. He was thirty-two, almost ten years older than she was. His father had died young, but his mother was still living. He had been an aspiring actor, but after striking out in Hollywood, he had decided to start the website.
Dana set her phone back on her end table and turned her TV off. She was going out with a billionaire. She couldn’t believe it as she drifted off to sleep.
2
Friday passed slowly. Dana worked, sold her sex toys, went home. She ate dinner and went to bed early. Saturday she worked as well though she always closed the store early on the weekends. Most of her customers shopped during the week when the people they knew were at work. They should have been working too but they stole in on lunch breaks, or after dentists appointments, their mouths filled with sticky gauze, their speech slurred.
After work on Saturday, Dana rushed home and got ready. She showered and then dressed though it took her almost an hour to settle on the perfect outfit. A small black dress with black high heels. She put on makeup, which she rarely did, and when she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt simultaneously bold and embarrassed. Bold because she looked like an absolute knockout, and she knew it, and embarrassed because she knew she was doing it because she wanted Greg to want to fuck her.
She wouldn’t let him. That wasn’t the kind of girl she was, but she wanted him to want to.
He picked her up five minutes past eight. She had sent him her address the day before. She lived in a small apartment, and as she made her way to the parking lot, she felt ashamed. Surely he was used to penthouses when he was in the city, and now that he had returned to his hometown, an hour and a half outside of New York, she was confident he would build a mansion somewhere.
Apple Tree was the name of the town, and it was quaint, almost like a town people would live in on a TV show. Rolling green hills gave way to farm land; a far cry from the loud, smog filled city to the south. There was a main street, and it was here where Dana lived, in a small row of apartments. Her shop was just outside of town, on a lonely dusty road that otherwise led out to a dairy farm.
Greg was driving a bright red convertible which matched Dana’s lipstick. He had gotten out of the car and moved around to open the passenger door.
“You look amazing,” the rich man said.
“Thank you,” Dana said. “You too,” she added, and it was the truth. He was dressed in a black blazer with a crisp white button up underneath it, the top two buttons on done, his bronze chest showing, a small amount of chest hair curled there as well. His pants were jeans, but not the sort you would buy at the local Wal-Mart. They cost more than her whole wardrobe; she had no doubt about that.
After she had lowered herself into the driver’s seat, he came around and climbed in behind the wheel.
“You hungry?” he asked, and she nodded.
He took her over a few towns, to a sleepy little place called River’s Crossing. It had a reputation for b
eing a bit more high scale than Apple Tree, and as such, Dana had never had much reason to go there, except for a couple of times with her girlfriends as they looked in the shops.
There was a small Italian restaurant there called Emilio’s, and the parking lot was full when Greg pulled in. The sky was black, and he had stopped to raise the roof on the convertible, as the air was growing quite chilly, despite the fact that it was summer. Though in a dress as short as the one Dana was wearing, any night would be chilly.
They went inside, and Dana thought they would have to wait. There was a line almost to the door, but as soon as the hostess saw Greg, she came forward and showed them to a small private room off of the main dining area. It only had four tables, each small and intimate with two chairs.
The food was better than Dana had ever had, and the conversation was just as good. They did the normal first date stuff, working through the conversation they were supposed to. Where did you go to school, what movies do you like? Surprisingly, Greg had dropped out of highschool, moving when he was seventeen to Los Angeles, and his favorite film was Goodfellas. He learned that Dana had gone to a local highschool and then a college thirty minutes to the East, and her favorite film was Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
“I would love it if you came home with me,” Greg said, and Dana was shocked by how upfront he was. She opened her mouth after she smiled, and she was prepared to tell him now.
“God yes,” she said instead, shocking herself.
“Great,” Greg said, and he stood and left enough money to cover the bill and a hefty tip, and they hurried out to his car.
It turned out that Greg had done exactly what Dana had thought he must have. Twenty minutes out of Apple Tree there was a massive home that had been freshly built. The immense gates they drove through before heading down a winding drive to get to the house answered how exactly the house had gotten past the attention of everyone in town. She doubted anyone knew the house was here, sitting on some unused farmland, far from the main road.