Milk Money

by Jude E. McNamara

  I didn’t know if he was laughing because I was looking at him as if someone had dropped him on his head or what.

  “Think about this, Harper. Think about it long and hard because if you’re that deep into denial and can’t admit this to yourself, then you are definitely fucked.”

  Clearly I was definitely fucked. This was like the second time today this subject had come up.

  I was laughing a bit too much now, practically hysterical. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the lost art auction bid. Maybe it was Dr. Richards. Maybe it was Mother. Maybe it was fertility clinics and sperm donors. Maybe it was Malcom. Maybe it was the Joduku Plastics acquisition. Maybe it was that motherfucking Nicholas Miles Becker making me crazy. Maybe I was in love?

  “Listen Harper,” Reese said. “No matter how hard you laugh at what I said like I told some huge joke or something, the fact still remains you’re in denial, babe. You’re in love with Nicholas Becker. And . . . it’s okay. Maybe if you stop fighting the feelings and knock this war off between the two of you, you could both see it for yourselves.”

  “Are you crazy, Reese? Nicky is my competition for anything and everything. And now he’s my competition for Joduku Plastics. That company is going to end up being merged into the Carmichael Ketchup empire, and Nicky isn’t going to stop me from getting it. What would he want with that company anyway?” I said. “Joduku doesn’t need an angel investor.”

  “It’s not for him. It’s for Becker Foods,” Reese said. “Apparently that plastics company holds some value for the family chicken processing company,” Reese said.

  “Yeah, like the same value it holds for Carmichael Ketchup,” I said.

  “Kind of interesting if you ask me, Harper. You want it for your mom, and Nicholas wants it for his dad?”

  Hmm. Reese’s point did raise my curiosity a tad, but this was business, and stranger things happened all the time in business.

  “Nicholas Becker will not keep me from getting what I want. Those days are long since over.”

  “That’s right, Harper. Those days are over. As in ten years’ worth of days over,” Reese said. “I’m your friend. Put that time in your life behind you. Call a cease-fire. You and Nicholas are made for each other. You guys are cut from the same cloth. And just think about it; you merge your empire with his and the world becomes your playground.”

  “You mean oyster, don’t you Reese? Too much vodka for you.”

  “Yeah. So let’s get drunk,” Reese said, squeezing me, tickling me.

  “You’re already drunk.”

  “So let’s do like we use to do in college, babe. Get drunk and have spin night,” Reese said. “You remember, get so drunk the room spins!” Reese hollered.

  We both fell out laughing all over again.

  “Spin night, babe,” Reese laughed again.

  “I’m getting that company,” I said sharply.

  “Have it your way, babe. I’ll still be here for you when reality sets in. I got your six either way, but I think a cease-fire is in order,” Reese said calmly.

  “Watch me,” I hissed under my breath.

  “Let’s spin, woman, before I end up as collateral damage,” Reese laughed.

  “I’m getting that company,” I laughed back at him.

  And my baby.

  Chapter Seven

  Nicholas

  “I’m sorry sir, but the traffic is pretty heavy tonight,” Silas spoke softly.

  “No problem Silas. Just get us as close to the red carpet rope as you can,” I said, desperate to jump out of the limousine so I could stretch my legs.

  “Are you ready, Lucia?”

  “Of course, I’m ready. You act like you’re walking down the plank to your own execution or something, Nicky.”

  “No, I’m just ready to get the hell out of here. And the night hasn’t even begun. Spending a night in a room full of Democrats is not my idea of fun. Not to mention I have to contend with Big Daddy and Harper at the same time, on the same day, in the same space,” I grumbled. “Big Daddy has really pushed the envelope this time.”

  “You should be used to Big Daddy’s demands by now Nicky. Besides, it’s merely a political fundraiser.”

  “But for the fact that this is Senator Montgomery’s shindig, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass. I wouldn’t throw this kind of cash around for anyone else, especially the Democrats. I’m doing this for Elizabeth Montgomery,” I grunted, pouring myself a vodka off the limousine bar.

  It appeared the wait to arrive on the red carpet was going to be extra long since all the big shot politicos had to get out of their limos too tonight.

  “I’m sure Big Daddy calls it greasing the skids, staying on Elizabeth’s good side,” Lucia said glancing at her watch.

  “Yeah, Big Daddy and Elizabeth go way back in the day to God knows when.” I moaned. “No way that Big Daddy isn’t going to do whatever it takes to stay on Elizabeth’s good side. I’ve never been able to quite figure out their history, but this I know, they have some kind of mutual understanding.”

  “Interesting,” Lucia said.

  “Whatever Elizabeth wants, Big Daddy gets. And whatever Big Daddy needs, Elizabeth delivers. It’s the strangest thing,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “Been observing it for years and I still don’t have a string on what makes the two of them tick.”

  “Well that’s almost hilarious. Especially since you and Harper are oil and water,” Lucia laughed. “Whatever you want, Harper opposes, and whatever she wants, you decimate her. It damn sure isn’t like father like son, like mother like daughter.”

  “It’s not the same with Harper and me, Lucia.”

  “Perhaps you and Harper should rip a page out of your parent’s handbook and try getting along sometime,” Lucia said, her glare fixed on me.

  Lucia crossed those beautiful lean slender legs one over the other, tugging on her black pencil skirt and adjusting it, covering the edge of her knees.

  I gave her my best hungry man look, eyeing her up and down for kicks. I didn’t want her to assume that just because my head was all screwed up with this Harper stuff, that I had completely lost my grip. Fuck. I was a man. I did have eyeballs. Every now and then I turned my bad boy light on for Lucia for kicks. I enjoyed needling her, knowing full well she rarely took me seriously.

  Lucia, being the professional business partner that she was, rolled her eyes, dismissing me, looking at me as if I were a wayward castoff. Lucia was smart. Somewhere along the way in our business relationship, she had completely figured me out. No matter how much I pretended, my Harper was the only woman that I truly cared about and desired. But hell I was going to at least put up a good front. I could still admire a beautiful woman when I saw one. Far be it from me to let the entire male race down. I did have eyeballs in my head and I was going to look, dammit.

  Lucia looked at me as if the only person that I was fooling was myself. She was probably right. So I figured I’d go into overdrive. I practiced my best James Bond look on her next. Why the hell not? I was momentarily bored. She knew it. She knew me.

  “Stop clowning around Nicky,” Lucia said, looking me up and down. “Don’t look at me like that. Tonight is not the night for games. You need to focus. There’s a lot that could go wrong tonight,” she hissed.

  “What in the world could go wrong?” I said, sipping my vodka, leaning back against the cold leather seat as if I hadn’t a care in the world. I wanted to practice my “Hello, Ms. Moneypenny” look on her, but thought better of it. Lucia wasn’t enjoying my playful mood.

  “Big Daddy will be here, for one. And two, if you have to go completely nuclear with Harper on this Joduku Plastics acquisition, you fucking better remember not to leave any missiles in the silo,” Lucia said calmly. “CEO Nobu at Joduku Plastics is narrowing down to his short list of bidders and the word on the street is that Milk Money and Montgomery Consulting Group will likely make the cut.

  It had been almost a month since I’d last seen Harper. By now, we both
knew that the other was involved in this acquisition and would likely be the last competitors standing.

  “And three, keep your ego in check and your dick in your pants with Vicky’s Angels tonight.”

  “You know you need to lighten up Lucia,” I said gulping down more of my vodka.

  “There’s twenty million dollars riding on the line tonight with Joduku Plastics in play,” Lucia scolded. “You’re a Republican getting ready to enter a Democratic fundraiser, so knock your shit the fuck off. Put that magical moneymaking brain of yours in high gear. This is business. You’ve got your Pussy Galore face on,” Lucia continued, admonishing me.

  “Okay. Okay. Cool your jets. “You’re too damn serious, Lucia,” I said, teasing her. “Put your fun house hat on some time, baby.”

  “One of us has to keep a cool head. I’m looking out for Milk Money’s bottom line, Nicky.”

  “Which is exactly why I have you, lovely,” I said, putting a wide smile on my face.

  Lucia shook her head. She immediately dialed Stephen. Stephen was behind us in line.

  “Stephen, Lucia. Nicholas needs an update,” she said, staring me up and down with disgust.

  I suppose Lucia thought I wasn’t on top of my game tonight. Oh well. Perhaps I wasn’t. Harper was going to be here. Big Daddy was going to be here. The bimbo twins were going to be running loose. There were lots of balls that had to be juggled tonight. And at the end of the end of the day, any balls subject to be cut off were likely going to be mine. Even I had to admit my nerves were starting to rattle. This was not a night that I was looking forward to frankly. As far as I was concerned, I was being dragged into this moment kicking and screaming. Last I recalled, this wasn’t even my fight. If it weren’t for Three lacking his own set of balls to tell Big Daddy to go shove it, I wouldn’t be here at all.

  Stephen tapped on the window of the limousine, as Lucia pushed the button to let the window down a bit.

  “We’re five cars away from the Lincoln Center entrance,” Stephen said, looking at Lucia as if she was something good to eat.

  What was with these two? You would have thought it was Christmas time and they were each other’s presents.

  “There’s a ton of paparazzi out here, Nicky, so let me get out first,” Stephen ordered. “I’ll come around, open the door to let you and Lucia out. I’ll be at your side to the left the whole time, okay?”

  I nodded in silence.

  “My team will cover Lucia,” Stephen said, looking at her while flashing his million-dollar smile.

  “Got it,” Lucia said, swiftly rolling the window back up.

  Lucia tapped the privacy window.

  “Silas, follow Stephen’s lead,” She ordered.

  “You’ve got your checkbook, right, Nicholas?” Lucia asked.

  “Of course. No way Big Daddy is going to let me off the hook for fifty thousand dollars tonight.”

  “Don’t start whining about the donation again tonight, Nicky.”

  “Milk Money, baby,” I grinned, throwing back another vodka shot.

  “We’re entering Lincoln Center now, Nicholas. It’s all red carpet and rope tonight,” Lucia said. “Keep your wits about you. There are wall-to-wall cameras. Paparazzi, Nicky. Keep a clear head. Image is everything.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know the drill,” I said, disgruntled. “Senator Montgomery, Big Daddy, and New York’s finest glitterati all in the same room, equals a big crap sandwich night.”

  I started to feel like Lucia was right. Maybe I had consumed too much to drink. My stomach was feeling queasy. Lucia must have sensed my unease and snatched the vodka glass from of my hand.

  “Careful Lucia. You’re about to splash vodka on my Armani, woman.”

  The last thing I needed was to show up in front of Big Daddy smelling like a distillery. Not to mention I happened to love this particular navy pinstriped suit that I had custom made in Italy. I’d paired it with a handmade white shirt monogrammed with my initials on the cuff. I wore my favorite red silk tie, so as to remind those big spending Democrats that a few charitable-minded Republicans still walked the planet.

  “You’ve had too much to drink,” Lucia barked. “Pull yourself together.” She leaned over, straightening my collar and tightening my tie so tight I thought she was going to choke the life out of me.

  “What the fuck Lucia? Kill me already,” I grumbled.

  “Nicholas. You’re known for being pristine. This is not the time to come unglued. Pull yourself together,” she said with an air of encouragement.

  She was right. I was acting like a man that was rattled.

  “You’re right Lucia,” I said kissing her sloppily on the lips.

  Lucia slapped me across the face. Hard. Oh. My. God. I couldn’t believe she did that. That slap sobered me up quick and fast. The woman slapped the buzz right out of me.

  “Thank you, I needed that,” I said, rolling my eyes at the bitch. “It takes a village, love,” I said, laughing out loud.

  Lucia and I walked the roped-off red carpet that wrapped around the iconic Revson Fountain leading into the Lincoln Center. I felt the heat of the bright lights. Camera flashes were popping from the numerous paparazzi snapping pictures of the arriving guests, including Lucia and myself. The red carpet was a slow-moving process full of flashing camera lights, celebrities, Kodak moments, and poses. I paused for a minute, putting my hand in the small of Lucia’s back, pulling her to my side as we posed for the cameras. Lucia was a pro at working a red carpet, falling right in step with me. Stephen stood a safe distance, off to the side, talking in his earpiece to someone on our security team. He remained in close proximity to us both with a conspicuous watchful eye.

  There was a crowd of Tea Party protesters shouting lots of obscenities off to the right of the ropes. They were being pushed further back with guardrails from the incoming arrival of guests by New York’s finest, NYPD. I was thankful that if Page Six or any of the other tabloids took pictures, I’d at least be seen with Lucia rather than my usual photographic history of being splashed across tomorrow morning’s front tabloid pages with a starlet, heiress, or the latest flavor of the month supermodel. Lucia was beautiful, holding her own against any of the arm candy I was typically seen with on the pages of the tabloids.

  After a ton of picture taking, Lucia and I entered the designated banquet area of the Lincoln Center. I laid eyes on the Senator and Elizabeth Montgomery far across the room. They were interacting with a crowd of dignitaries and other well-known political operatives. I was thankful those two piranhas, Mallory Morgan and Jessica Leonard, hadn’t yet spotted my arrival. My brother had warned me that Mallory and Jessica would be working the event, modeling clothes for tonight’s auction, raising money for the Democrats.

  The banquet room was decorated in patriotic colors. An American flag hung from the tall ceiling, lit up against the glow of the crystal chandeliers. The tables were draped in blue tablecloths with red, white, and blue balloons anchored on each table. A full orchestra was playing “Happy Days Are Here Again” in the background. The male musicians were suited up in white tuxedoes. The female musicians adorned in long black gowns. This was another typical political fundraiser for the money magnets.

  Oh Lord. I could see Mallory and Jessica strutting those perfectly honed bodies from across the room as every inquisitive hungry-eyed male politician eyed them stealthily, as if their next new mistress had revealed herself. Wait. My brother failed to mention that Mallory, Jessica, and several other beauties were modeling Victoria’s Secret lingerie, prancing around the banquet hall half-naked. He’d only said they were modeling clothes.

  They might as well have been naked, strutting like peacocks in a room full of glamourous, diamond studded, mink-wearing moneyed predators who were ripe for the picking.

  Mallory and Jessica looked like two celestial angels sent down from heaven as gifts from above. The Greek gods of love must have been working overtime. Every man in the room wanted to pay homage. Victoria was
n’t holding back on any of her secrets, that was for sure.

  Mallory was wearing a skimpy, hot-pink, lacy bra and thong, and gold stilettos that laced around her calves like Cleopatra. She had on matching hot-pink angel wings that were wrapped behind her bodice, setting the room ablaze in her path. She looked like a gazelle, her long blond curls falling down her back in ringlets that swung from side to side at the same rhythm of her hips. Her luscious breasts were bursting out of that hot-pink bra held together with diamond-studded clasps and straps that glimmered across her creamy pale skin, reflecting off her deep ocean-blue eyes. Her curved mouth was laminated with a pinkish lip gloss.

  Jessica strutted like a poised peacock in an all-white glittering bra and thong, and matching white angel wings. She was showing off that beautiful chocolate-brown skin, twirling around on four-inch crystal clear stilettoes, reminding me of a candy-coated M&M that could melt in my mouth and not in my hands. Her long black hair hung straight down, falling deliciously against those voluptuous breasts, her short wispy bangs framing her face as if she were readying for a carefully crafted Kodak moment. Together these two looked like coffee and cream. It was hard not to want to taste. Holy happy spirit, this was going to be an extremely long night.

  I still hadn’t spotted Harper yet, but I knew it would only be a matter of time. I didn’t want her to see me with these two sirens curled around me. And I damn sure didn’t want to have to look at her on the arms of that fuckwad McKenna. Either of those pictures would make the night practically unbearable.

  “I hope I don’t have to babysit you tonight, Nicky, with Hip and Hop running loose in here, do I?” Lucia muttered, her expression impassive.

  Lucia was referring to Mallory and Jessica.

  “Oh I’m definitely going to need a babysitter. Let’s hope Big Daddy doesn’t need one with these two gazelles igniting the room.”

  I grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing server’s tray, handing one to Lucia. No sooner had I gotten the words out of my mouth, than Mallory and Jessica strutted over to me at the same time, holding hands.