Milk Money

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Milk Money Page 5

by Jude E. McNamara


  “You’re looking as beautiful as ever, Elizabeth,” I said, bringing her hands to my lips, kissing her knuckles affectionately. “You get more gorgeous every day,” I said.

  “Watch it son,” the senator laughed haughtily. “That one belongs to me last I checked.”

  “Oh Clayton,” Elizabeth grinned. “Behave yourself and stop acting like a jealous old man.” Harper’s mother smiled politely, loving every bit of the attention. “Nicholas is practically family, Clayton. Come sit with us Nicholas. Come Harper,” she said, directing her daughter to sit near her.

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, noticing that Malcom was easing himself closer on Harper’s heels, perhaps letting the senator know he was on his job. “Oh Malcom dear, we’ll be fine for now,” Elizabeth waved him off with her hand to dismiss him. “Feel free to take a break,” she said in a commanding voice.

  Malcom looked miffed at having to take an order from Harper’s mother, but he distanced himself nonetheless. Harper didn’t seem to mind though. She moved gracefully, sitting next to her mom. I held the chairs out for both of them. I took the seat to Harper’s left, putting a protective arm around the back of her chair, crossing my leg, and marking my territory. Harper and Elizabeth seemed happy to have a mother and daughter moment without the fuss of the entourage that came with being in the senator’s presence, grateful the senator had politely excused himself. The senator left, moving across the room to engage in conversation with other guests.

  I watched out the corner of my eye as Mackenzie snapped multiple pictures of the newlyweds and their guests with the senator. Those pictures would draw a big sum in New York Magazine this month as the “Who’s Who Wedding of the Year.”

  “Listen Harper,” Elizabeth said, as Harper sat glaring across the room, not at her mother, but at Mico’s new brother-in-law Reese Nelson. Reese was engaged in conversation with the jazz combo’s pianist and vocalist that were on a set break. I started feeling paranoid again, wondering whether Harper and Reese were more than friends. Harper and Reese seemed to frequently land at all the same places at the same time.

  “Do you see something you like?” I said, grabbing a couple of champagne glasses off the server’s tray, and setting them both in front of Harper and Elizabeth.

  Harper’s eyes were still locked in on the jazz combo across the room.

  “What’s it to you?” she asked, turning her head slightly my direction, giving me her once-over look.

  I glared back at her intensely, deciding whether to respond to her dig or not. She spoke before I could form a sentence.

  “But I’ll be sure to not let you know when I do,” she said, turning her head back towards her mother’s direction.

  One of the red-coated servers was right on time, setting a vodka martini down in front of me. I took a huge much needed gulp. Man I so needed to get this train I called Kitten on track. I decided to shake off her words.

  “Harper, I have a small matter that I’d like for you to handle darling,” Elizabeth said, not paying attention to Harper and me.

  “And what might that be, Mother?” Harper said, tapping her fingers on the table, signaling to me that she was annoyed.

  Yeah baby. I’m equally as annoyed. But tonight I’m going to make peace, not war. With my arm still wrapped around the back of her chair, I placed my hand on shoulder. Her body stilled under my touch.

  I listened passively to Elizabeth, noticing Brooks had made his way over to the senator, inserting himself into the picture-taking activities with the bride and groom. Brooks’ chest was pumped up another level. He was eager to be in the same room with the senator. His head was so big, I wondered how he kept it on his neck.

  “I know you’re busy, love, but I need a favor, my darling,” Elizabeth said. “There’s a little plastics company in Princeton, New Jersey that’s for sale that I’d like you to acquire for Carmichael Ketchup.”

  Plastics. Company. Did I hear the words plastics company?

  “Given your high level of expertise in risk management, business consulting and turnaround services, I’d like it if The Montgomery Consulting Group could take the lead on the acquisition for us,” Elizabeth said very casually. “Joduku Plastics, love. That’s the company. That’s what I need.”

  Holy shit. I started to choke on the vodka martini I was drinking. I could feel my own brows pull together. Did Elizabeth just say Joduku Plastics? Fuck. Shit. Fuck me.

  Harper looked at me funny, as if she were wondering if she was going to have to do the Heimlich maneuver on me. I was spitting and choking all over myself.

  “Nicky, are you okay, baby?” Elizabeth said, looking worried. I could feel my face turning red. Vodka had gone down the wrong way, making me feel like my windpipes were collapsing in on me. The words “plastics company” were stuck in my throat.

  “Nothing a good smack across the back won’t fix, Mother. Right, Nicky?” Harper glowered, whacking me hard across my back.

  I winced. She looked pleased with herself, having knocked the living shit out of me. Air flowed inward. I forced an exhale, grunting loudly.

  “No ma’am. Thank you I’m fine,” I said catching my breath, coughing deeply a couple of times so as to clear my throat. I chugged some of Harper’s champagne down rapidly.

  No way in hell did I want to end up in an acquisition war with Harper over Joduku Plastics. How in the hell could this be possible? And worse, Harper was going to think I was going to want to buy the company to spurn her. She would never believe otherwise. No way. No how. It was bad timing that this conversation was coming up now. The fact that I was sitting right next to her during this discussion would create all kinds of problems. She would never believe or accept that my brother had beaten her to the punch with this information less than an hour ago. One thing’s for sure, despite Elizabeth Montgomery’s interests, Harper was not going to have this discussion with Elizabeth in front of me.

  Immediately, I felt Harper’s brain shift gears, moving into a state of defensiveness. This was information she did not want me to have. No sirree. As soon as Elizabeth pushed the conversation further to gain momentum, Reese Nelson walked over to greet Harper. That was both good and bad. Good because the conversation quickly changed directions. And bad, because now Reese was grabbing Harper out her chair, whisking her back on to the dance floor to dance to some fast number that was playing. Harper fell right into step with Reese, I’m sure taking advantage of the opportunity not to have to have the discussion about Joduku Plastics in front of me.

  I was failing at pretending that my attention was directed elsewhere, as I listened to Elizabeth tell me how Reese was like a brother to Harper. I watched the two of them on the dance floor, Harper shaking those curvy hips of hers far too sexily to be anybody’s sister. Harper is an only child. She doesn’t know how to do sibling. I love Elizabeth dearly, but I wasn’t buying what she was selling. I was pissed and jealous that it wasn’t me out there with her on the dance floor. Fortunately, the senator and Brooks were making their way back over to where Elizabeth and I were sitting before my paranoia kicked up another notch.

  “Nicholas my boy, I know better than to leave you too long with my beautiful wife,” the senator said, chuckling heartily, slapping me on my back hard. Goddamn. He must have taught his daughter how to dole out that same slap on the back. It’s true the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  “Yeah senator, he’s a regular modern-day gigolo,” Brooks laughed, stirring the pot. “Every time I open the morning paper, Nicholas is plastered across the cover of Page Six,” Brooks said cunningly. “You should watch your woman when he’s around.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read senator,” I said, shooting Brooks a suspicious look. “One has to consider the source. Surely you can appreciate as well as I, sir, how the media outlets tend to distort truths.” I bristled with anger at Brooks.

  The senator stared directly at me a moment too long as if he were studying my expression, casting doubt, or perhaps wonde
ring if my comment was somehow intended for him. “Of course Nicholas,” Senator Montgomery said, unable to penetrate my poker face.

  Brooks had forced me to put all my guards up now.

  “You’ve never struck me as the settling down type,” Brooks persisted. “You seem to be the honey that attracts all those beautiful beauties that flock around you.” Now he was turning the knife he’d put in my back.

  “You don’t know me well Brooks. I hold no claim to those . . . what did you say? Beautiful beauties. But that which I do lay claim to as mine, is mine,” I hissed back at him.

  “Oh Clayton, you know Nicholas is saving himself for that special someone. Right Nicholas?” Elizabeth interrupted.

  “Do you have a girlfriend Brooks?” Elizabeth said a little too innocently, taking up my cause.

  “Well no ma’am, I . . . I . . . I can’t say that I do,” Brooks said, starting now to stutter and stumble, gulping his scotch. Good shot at that fuckwad, Lizzy. I am saving myself for someone special, and she is right here in the room.

  Lucky for me, Reese and Harper were exiting the dance floor, both moving toward our table. The pianist was announcing in the background that it was time for the bride to throw the bouquet, and for the groom to go for the garter. Oh, man, it was definitely time for me to get the hell out of here. No way I was going to end up in the center of the room catching some freaking garter with that snap-happy camera-shooting Mackenzie around. Mico was my man, but this was where I drew the line. For me to land on the gossip pages again this month would be bad form.

  Anticipating my every need, Lucia appeared out of nowhere, standing at my side as I stood for Harper who had not yet taken her seat.

  “Nicky, you have an important call from the airport hanger,” Lucia said. “You’re needed to authorize release of one of the jets in the Milk Money fleet that’s on standby for the newlywed’s trip to the South of France.”

  “Thank you, Lucia.”

  “Senator, Elizabeth, it’s good to see you both again. I hope to do it again soon. Harper, Brooks, if you will excuse me, I must attend to this call.”

  “Good seeing you again Nicholas. Happy New Year,” Elizabeth said, grinning.

  “Give my best to Deuce,” Senator Montgomery said, reaching to shake my hand.

  I reached out, pulling Harper close to me before she could take a seat. I kissed her softly on the cheek. She briefly closed her eyes, looking irritated and uneasy.

  “Happy New Year, Kitten,” I whispered, stroking my index finger and thumb along her chin.

  Harper’s eyes glossed over me, softening. She let out a breath she’d been holding. I felt her skin heat under my lips.

  The realities were what they were. Harper and I were so not done.

  Chapter Four

  Harper

  “Ms. Montgomery, Mackenzie Rhodes is here to see you,” Charlotte Hall, my Administrative Assistant, said over the intercom.

  Before I could respond, my best friend Mackenzie was busting through the double doors of my office.

  “Hey Harper.”

  “Mackenzie, what a surprise.”

  “I thought I’d drop by and share photographs I developed from Riley and Noah’s wedding a couple of weeks ago,” Mackenzie said.

  She opened a large black portfolio full of prints, pulling up a chair at my circular table. “Sorry I’m dropping in on you unannounced, but I figured you wouldn’t mind. I’ve forwarded the newlyweds a digital copy of their proofs so I thought you might want some of the extra pictures I took of the senator and Elizabeth.”

  “No problem. It’s been a slow morning anyway,” I said, clicking the calendar on my Macbook Pro to see how the rest of my day was going to shape up.

  “Well, I managed to get some great shots of your mom, the senator, and of course you and Brooks.”

  Mackenzie was trying to restrain her look. She was losing the battle, looking like the cat that had swallowed the mouse.

  “Here’s a couple of shots with you and Reese,” she said. “Aaaannd, here’s the one shot that killed me to take, of you and Mister Sleezeball.”

  But of course it was a picture of me and Nicholas. Most of the time when Mackenzie spoke bad about a man, it was usually a reference to Nicholas. I wasn’t at all surprised.

  “You’re never shy about how you really feel, Mac. Not much has changed these last ten years,” I said, twisting my oversized plush leather chair around.

  I walked over to the circular table to look at Mackenzie’s photographs.

  “These are really good,” I said, flipping through the pictures of my parents at the wedding. I thumbed quickly through the pictures of me with Brooks and Reese. And then I stared at the picture of Nicholas and me.

  “Really Mac, you took a picture of Nicholas whispering in my ear? That’s interesting,” I said, trying to smother a giggle.

  “Yes,” she said. “The look on your face is priceless.”

  I kept my head down hoping Mackenzie wouldn’t catch the expression on my face. It would reveal more than I was ready to discuss. I was putting up a front to appear emotionless.

  “Hard not to capture it, Harper. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you look a little smitten. Ya damn sure don’t have that same look on your face in this shot with the Fitzgerald,” Mackenzie chuckled wickedly.

  Mackenzie held up the photographs to the light, twisting her head from side to side studying the shot and the expression on my face. She even pulled her little photographer’s magnifying glass out of her jeans pocket, plopping it right on my top of my face in the picture.

  “Jesus, an entire night with Brooks Fitzgerald McKenna is about as close to a death sentence as I could get. Can you imagine what it was like to be stuck with the Fitz at a great wedding party given by Riley and Noah Dunham? You know what they say, Mac, ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’.”

  “Well the fact is Harper, you’re just not into the Fitz.”

  “Or any of the rest of those noodles out there,” I said.

  “Fitz is totally a hot-looking guy. You have to admit that, Harper,” Mackenzie said, taking a moment to sift through the emotional landmine I was working overtime to conceal.

  “Yup, and a really cold guy in the bedroom. He doesn’t bring any heat in that department,” I laughed.

  “Yeah, So what did the Becker have to say for himself? Spill the beans. Give up the goods, girlfriend,” Mackenzie said, swaying back and forth in her chair waiting patiently for my answer.

  Mackenzie was going to get information out of me if it took all day. She was steely like that. She could wait me out. I knew it. She knew it.

  “Oh you know, his usual stuff,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, admiring her outfit.

  Mackenzie had a great sense of style. She was rocking some hot straight-leg denim jeans with a blue cashmere hooded poncho. She’d propped her feet up on the light beige leather swivel chair next to her, showing off a cute pair of four-inch Jimmy Choos. Her hair was back to her natural look in short spiral-like twists, a change from the short straight look she wore at the night of the wedding.

  “Harper there is no such thing as saying Nicholas and usual in the same breath. There is nothing usual about the man.”

  “Okay, okay, okay. He may have mentioned how it was time for me to forgive him and how he and I needed to have a ‘relationship re-do’,” I said, moving my fingers in air quotes.

  Casually still flipping through the photos, I made it a point not to look up at Mackenzie, despite the fact that I could feel the heat of her glare burning a hole through me. I could only imagine the look on her face.

  Mackenzie didn’t truly dislike Nicholas as much as people thought—although it was sometimes hard to tell since she treated him crappy whenever she saw him. It was her way of expressing her loyalty to me. Mackenzie knew my history with Nicholas. She knew how much he’d hurt me. Her outward anger towards him was the closest thing she could manage as a point of revenge for treating her best friend poorly.
Mackenzie had had a front row seat to the pain Nicholas had caused me. Had it not been for experience of holding my hand through the months of pain, they might have ended up to be good friends. They were a lot alike, each being undeniably persistent and headstrong.

  “Both the angles on the long shots and the close-ups are really very good, Mackenzie. Very creative.”

  “Mackenzie always does good work. They don’t call me “Magical Mackenzie” for nothing,” she said, amused and unrepentant for her ego now running amuck. “And, so what was your response, Harper? What did you tell Mr. Gazillionaire bad boy slug?”

  “I essentially gave him the same response I always give him.”

  I kept flipping through the photographs. Mackenzie wasn’t giving up. She waited me out, her arms folded across her breasts as I glared, discerning the look on my face.

  “I told him to forget about it.”

  “Ummm,” Mackenzie hummed.

  “Hell will freeze over before I turn on the heart lights giving Nicholas Miles Becker any chance to be with me ever again in life.” I cocked my head to the side, looking more closely at the pictures of Nicholas and myself.

  “Well I can understand how you feel, Harper. Ten years ago in Martha’s Vineyard, the relationship with you two started off really good. But by the end of the summer, things happened. Unfortunately he handled things really shittily.”

  “No one knows that better than me. Nicholas accused me of setting him up and backing him into a marriage that he wasn’t ready for, but felt he needed to commit to out of obligation. Then when I lost the baby, he acted even worse.”

  “Only because by the time he came around to finding his right mind,” Mackenzie said sarcastically, “you had miscarried. His accusations of you having had an abortion were so unfounded,” she grumbled. “I still never understood why you never corrected his misunderstanding, Harper.”

  “I thought we were in love. I thought he knew me. I thought he knew who I was. He should have known better than to believe I would abort his child.”

 

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