Boxers & Briefs: An MFMM Romance

by Abby Angel

"I love you so much. And, Lucas loves you too," I say into the phone. "I know what happened between you two and I love that you found love. I love that the three of us can be comfortable with each other. That we can be together, whether all of us, or just two of us at a time."

  I can’t hear Ares and I hope he hasn't hung up.

  "If you’re still there, please know that no matter what, Ares Strong, I will always love you. And Lucas will always love you, whether we have Union Airlines and Carter Jeffries or not. Please know that," I say.

  That’s all I hear. And then I hear a click as the line dies.

  Lucas

  The Federal Reserve Bank of New York. So much rides on the next few hours. Literally the fate of hundreds of thousands of jobs. I'm really not being overly dramatic here or anything. I'm being entirely serious. This is probably about the most serious meeting I've ever been to in my entire professional career.

  I look over next to me and realize that at least I'm facing the single greatest challenge in my life with my head held high, and with the woman I love.

  If only the man I love were next to us as well.

  But sadly, he's not. He's going to be sitting across the table. As the fucking enemy. All because of our inability to communicate. We could've told each other how we felt and figured out how to work past our issues so long ago. But we didn't. And one person had to die.

  But Ares and I not being able to discuss our feelings hasn't just hurt one person.

  Now it's hurt the love of our lives.

  And that I can't allow.

  Ares may love her too, but I have to protect her. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that the sins of our past don't revisit themselves in the present.

  That's what I tell myself as I walk into the massive double doors into the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. The press is already here, they're lining the steps and the photographers are in the lobby. There's no avoiding them so I simply nod to them and wait the few seconds for the flash bulbs to take the pictures.

  I look around. I've been in here a whole bunch of times. I used to come here to deliver lectures a few years ago on the state of the economy and the direction of the markets. People used to listen to me then. Before my name was tarnished by a sex scandal.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" a voice asks from right next to me and I turn around to see Daphne.

  God, she's so beautiful. Her face is like that of an angel.

  And that body. Jesus Christ.

  She's wearing a tight black skirt. I smile to myself thinking about that juicy ass underneath that skirt. God, I want to pull that skirt down and see what color panties she's wearing. Take a cheek in both hands and squeeze.

  "You ok?" Daphne asks me. "You look like you're somewhere else."

  "I am," I tell her, smiling.

  She rolls her eyes at me. "It's like I'm talking to Ares sometimes. Now you just need to say fuck every other word and it'll be like he's here with us," she says. I roll my eyes and we share a brief chuckle.

  Standing at the door to the hearing room, about to go in and testify in front of an investigative body that may or may not revoke our business licenses and throw nearly half a million people out of work ... and we're sharing a morbid laugh.

  "Shall we?" Daphne asks me. I nod. I take her arm and walk in.

  ***

  The Federal Reserve Investigative Committee doesn't allow you to bring a lawyer or any form of outside counsel. That's why everything happens relatively quickly.

  We sit at a table that's pointed toward a raised dais where a large number of people sit, flanking and providing support to the Federal Reserve Governor.

  The room accommodates about a hundred and fifty people and it's filled up now with civilians and media alike. The press sit in the first two rows of seats right behind us.

  "The Committee will come to order," a familiar voice calls out and I look up from my notes at the raised dais where the Federal Reserve Governors are sitting.

  The voice seems familiar. It can't be.

  I just need to see who's speaking. I cannot believe that they would allow...

  "We're gathered here today to look into allegations of improper behavior between executives at Carter Jeffries and Union Airlines," the voice continues.

  Enough people have sat down that I'm finally able to get a look at the person sitting on the raised dais.

  It's Seymour Lee.

  What the hell.

  I clear my throat.

  "Governor Baker," I say addressing myself to the Governor of the Federal Reserve District of New York. He's sitting in the center most seat of the raised dais. Seymour Lee sits next to him. "I was under the impression that this was a Federal Reserve Investigation. And not something that was being adjudicated by an outside party," I say nodding toward Seymour.

  The two men look at each other.

  I look at Daphne.

  I know what's happening. Whatever is going on, Seymour has pressured the Federal Reserve Governor, Edward Baker, to give him the power to ask investigatory questions.

  "Under the circumstances, Mr. Blake, I'm inclined to allow Mr. Lee to continue with his questioning as long as I feel appropriate, given his closeness to the matter," the Governor replies back with a sigh. I get the feeling he's not happy with his own answer.

  "This investigation will continue Mr. Blake, and I will be the one asking the questions," Seymour says with an evil grin.

  Fuck me.

  There's nothing we can do now.

  When the judge is the one who wants to throw you in jail, how are you going to have any sort of expectation that he's going to play fair?

  "If everyone will please quiet down, I would like to start by asking Mr. Blake to give his version of events surrounding the alleged sexual encounter that took place in the Boardroom of Union Airlines?" Seymour Lee begins.

  If you're there at home right now shaking your head and wondering what the hell is going on, then you're not alone. I'm right there with you.

  What kind of government starts holding investigations into the lives of its private citizens? In fact, you know what? That's exactly what I'm going to ask.

  "What kind of government spends the taxpayer money to start investigating the lives of its private citizens?" I ask into the microphone, looking at Seymour Lee. His eyes gleam evilly, as if he were expecting this question.

  "It becomes a question to the government whether deviant sexual practices were performed when the shareholders in two of the largest and systemically important corporations in the United States get defrauded," Seymour replies.

  "And the esteemed ... interrogator believes that an intimate relationship now counts as fraud?" Daphne asks into her microphone.

  I chuckle to myself. She was about to call him a Governor, since the dais is only supposed to be seating Governors of the Federal Reserve.

  "You may address me as Special Counsel to the Governor, or as Special Investigator," Seymour says coldly. "And the shareholders are being defrauded when the sexual practices are so deviant that it shows a lack of judgment on part of the seller of Union Airlines."

  That's the heart of it, isn't it?

  It's not me that's being targeted.

  It's not Ares.

  This whole time. This entire spectacle.

  It's because of Daphne Kane.

  They're trying to take her down.

  It all falls into place for me. Like seeing the full picture of the puzzle.

  "Excuse me," I say into the microphone. "Special Investigator Lee?" I ask with as much fake solicitousness as I can muster.

  He looks at me and nods.

  "I'm a bit unclear about which part of the alleged sexual activity you think was deviant?" I ask.

  So, there was sex between a man and a woman. And another man and that woman. And then between two men.

  I'm interested in this answer.

  "The deviancy surrounds the entire spectacle," Seymour says, a bit flustered. "There's no one situation or scenar
io that dictates something as deviant where if you take it away it becomes less so," he finished.

  I shake my head and I'm about to reply when I hear him start to speak again.

  "At the heart of the matter are two questions, Mr. Blake," Seymour asks.

  "Firstly, was Daphne Kane in the right frame of mind when she began to entertain serious bids for Union Airlines?" Seymour asks and then without waiting for a response, he continues, "and then secondly did the fact that she was so open to a deviant and unconventional sexual relationship contribute to the reason why she pressured both Carter Jeffries and Strong Capital to commit ungodly sums of money toward purchasing Union Airlines, a company that is truly fairly valued at one billion dollars."

  "Union Airlines is valued at a lot more than one billion dollars!" Daphne exclaims into the microphone. She's heated. "You yourself were willing to pay over a trillion dollars."

  "The Chair wonders if Ms. Kane is in a rational and fit state of mind right now with an outburst like that?" Seymour asks with a deadly smile. He's got us right where he wants us. "Did you intend to defraud the investors and the greater public by seducing two men who would then pay a large amount of money for your corporation, Ms. Kane? Was that your goal? To then walk away with a gigantic payday."

  "I tried for a year to save the company from its PR nightmare!" she cries out. She's getting frustrated. I can tell.

  "If you can't control your emotions, I suggest you take a moment to compose yourself outside, Ms. Kane," Seymour says arching his eyebrows.

  That's all he needs. For Daphne to act as if she's unhinged. Then he goes after her, destroys her, makes it look like she seduced us, and that nullifies the entire sale for Union Airlines. He gets her fired and then one of those Board Members proposes that they sell themselves to the government and boom, you've got a nationalized airline. And the start of the greatest democracy on Earth sliding into a cesspool of socialism.

  I need to figure out something to say.

  Because Daphne isn't going to go ask for a recess. But she can't go on like this. Not with Seymour riling her up with every question.

  "Seymour Lee, if you're gonna fuck with someone, I suggest you pick someone other than my girl," a voice calls out from the cavernous hall.

  Did I mention that the hearing room is filled with people and press watching?

  Because they all freeze upon hearing that voice.

  I turn around.

  Because I know that voice as well.

  "You want to pick on someone, why don't you fucking start with me?" the voice continues.

  I couldn't forget it if I tried.

  And then I see him. Standing at the doorway of the room.

  Ares Strong.

  Making an entrance ... as usual. Only this time, I'm willing to forgive the theatrics.

  Ares

  "You want to pick on someone, why don't you fucking start with me?" I ask and the entire room turns to look at me.

  I know what you're thinking.

  This is it, another one of those scenes where the ending results in an investigation, or a press conference, or something like that.

  Well, no.

  You've never seen anything like this before. I guarantee it, because this is gonna be fucking hilarious and you're never ever gonna forget it.

  "Seymour Lee, I think you better get the fuck off that bench and out of that dais," I say walking up to where Daphne and Lucas are sitting.

  Lucas stands up and looks at me. He whispers urgently.

  "I appreciate you coming here and trying to stand up for her--" he starts to say but I cut him off.

  "And you," I interject.

  "And me," he says after a pause and our eyes meet. We nod at each other. What? Just because I love the fucker doesn't mean I'm going to turn into some woman over him. I'm still the big bad alpha male, and I guess so is Lucas, but I'm the fucking bad boy. Nothing fucking changes. I'm not gay. I just love a man. Big fucking difference.

  "Anyways, I appreciate this, but you need to make sure you don't inadvertently step over the line and get thrown out," Lucas says to me.

  And almost as if on cue, Seymour says from the raised dais, "Mr. Strong, you're scheduled to testify before this committee tomorrow. Should you wish to be present at the proceedings today, you may do so—from the visitor's section."

  Oh hell fucking no.

  No one tells me where to go or what to do. Not after that motherfucker nearly got me to destroy the people I love.

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you, you lousy piece of fucking trash?" I say out loud and there are now loud murmurs and whispering.

  You don't go into a venerable institution like the Federal Reserve and call out a government employee in such language.

  It's not civilized.

  Well, fuck that, then. I'm not a civilized person.

  If our institutions have failed us, it's time for us to smash them.

  "How many people complain that the government has stopped working for them?" I say out loud, and turn to the audience and the press. "How many people describe a situation where the government no longer cares about the people that it's supposed to be representing?"

  A lot of people are nodding at my words, but I'm pretty sure they don't know the connection that I'm about to make.

  "That man," I say, pointing my finger toward Seymour Lee, "That man was supposed to be representing the government. He claimed that he was from the Federal Aviation Administration, or FAA. And that he represented the government wanting to buy an airline."

  People are following what I say at this point.

  "Mr. Strong, do you have a point to make here?" Seymour says, banging his gavel. "Or are you simply here to distract us long enough for us to forget that your friends are in trouble?"

  Bingo.

  I can tell that dude is starting to get fucking worried.

  "May I remind you that you are operating under a condition of immunity," Seymour says. "That immunity could be revoked at any time."

  "By the time I'm fucking done with you, it's you who's going to be needing the fucking immunity, bub," I shoot back and I see Seymour go white and the room starts erupting in muted whispers.

  What could I have up my sleeve? What could I possibly know?

  "So now we have a situation where two respectable people—one from the aviation industry and one from Wall Street, are having their reputations publicly tarnished, and it could very well lead to the loss of hundreds of thousands of jobs and I gotta ask you, what kind of government takes that kind of an approach to its citizens?" I ask the crowd and people start to voice their agreement.

  I can feel the newspaper photographers taking their pictures and I see the television cameras train their lenses on me. I'm live to half the world now, baby.

  Prime time.

  Good.

  It's time to drop my bombs.

  "It's not the government at all that wants to do this," I say out loud. "At least, not ours."

  Boom.

  This time people don't try to hide their whispering. What could I mean? Not our government? Then who?

  "Mr. Lee," I ask, turning to face the dais and a very quiet Seymour Lee. "Who do you represent?"

  Silence. The whispering has stopped coming from the audience. The photographers have stopped speaking.

  "It's not just the FAA, is it?" I ask.

  This time I can see Seymour Lee look around and begin to fidget nervously.

  "In fact, does the name Elliot Wright ring a bell to you, Mr. Lee?" I ask again. This time Daphne looks to me. She's giving me a sharp look and I can sense the question in them. What's going on?

  You're probably sitting at home, scratching your pretty little head too, aren't ya?

  Well, listen, I hope you took my advice and took off those panties at the very beginning like I told you to. Because I really think that they're probably a bit soaked by now, don't you?

  I mean, I know you're turned on, babe. I would be too, if I made it this far and was sti
ll reading.

  You're either rolling your eyes or you're smiling. You either hate it or love it that I'm talking to you.

  Kinda like you're either gonna hate it or love it that I'm not telling you what's going on with Elliot Wright and Seymour Lee.

  "I believe Elliot Wright is a member of the Board of Directors for Union Airlines," Seymour Lee says and that's when I know I've gotten him.

  See, the proper response from him should've been, fuck off. Because since when was he being investigated.

  But that response didn't come. Because he knows he's in the wrong here.

  "So Mr. Wright had a piece of information that I don't think Daphne Kane was aware of," I say to the room. "You see, in addition to the purchase bids placed by Carter Jeffries and by Strong Capital, there was one other bid that she didn't know about."

  I turn to Seymour Lee. "The government of the People's Republic of China."

  This is where people start to murmur all over again. What is it that I'm accusing Seymour of?

  He bangs his gavel.

  "That's enough out of you, Mr. Strong!" he exclaims, banging his gavel. "You have violated the conditions of your immunity."

  "No, you've violated the conditions of being a public servant!" I shoot back. "Haven't you?"

  Seymour Lee goes white as a sheet all over again.

  "The Chinese approached Mr. Wright to buy Union Airlines. They couldn't make a bid for it directly because of the federal laws preventing that. But they could buy assets from the government itself, couldn't they? So they went to Mr. Wright. And he came to you," I lay it all out.

  Daphne looks shocked. To be fair, so do nearly 90% of the people in the room.

  "They promised a substantial payday to Mr. Wright to malign the reputation of Daphne Kane and get the government as the sole bidder for Union Airlines. The government would pay any price because it could, and at the end of the day it would end up with the assets of Union Airlines, only to turn around and dispose of them to the Chinese. And the Chinese would get a globe spanning airline, without actually having bought it and causing the public relations catastrophe. But rather as a purchase from one government to another. Quietly and under the table. Did I get that all right, Seymour?" I ask.