“I don’t manage Alex’s money.”
“He’s got contacts, though, obviously, and you’ll be managing his money soon enough. Or is he making you sign a pre-nup?”
“Say what now?” I stumble when I hit a slippery patch on the sidewalk and grab Charlene’s arm for balance.
“You can’t honestly think he’ll marry you without a pre-nup. I mean, he’s worth a fortune. His house alone has to be worth two-point-five mil, and all the other property he owns, plus bank?”
I frown. “He’s never mentioned a pre-nup.”
“They haven’t even set a date yet, Dean,” Charlene snaps.
“I’m just saying, don’t be surprised if he does. He’s protecting his assets. You can hardly blame him.”
I don’t say anything in response. Obviously I have no desire to bleed Alex dry should our relationship not work out the way we intend, but a pre-nup seems a lot like failure is an expectation. This indicates again why I need to keep this job. I can’t imagine being left with nothing and no employment prospects. I guess I can see Dean’s point, but it would kind of hurt if Alex dropped something like that on me without discussing it first.
Especially since he’s constantly throwing money at me. He’ll ask me to buy something sexy for one of our date nights and then drop three thousand dollars in my account. What the hell kind of sex wear am I buying? One of these days I’m going to bedazzle my vagina with Swarovski crystals to be a smart ass.
“So anyway, back to my original question…” Dean looks at me expectantly. When I stare blankly back, he rolls his eyes. “Waters? How does he feel about the Darcy account?”
“He’s happy for me, I guess?” Despite his repeated comments about quitting my job, he did want to celebrate me getting to present, so that has to be good.
“Really? Huh.” Dean raises his perfectly groomed villain eyebrows and opens the door to the café, ushering Charlene and me in ahead of him.
I accept his chivalry. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dean blinks innocently. “Nothing.”
We get in line, and I look to Charlene, who’s doing a terrible job of ignoring me while she reads the menu. She points enthusiastically at the special. “Oh, look! They have mushroom quiche!”
I wrinkle my nose. “Mushrooms are disgusting. They remind me of severed dick heads.”
Dean makes a gagging sound. “You need a therapist, Violet.”
“People who eat mushrooms need therapists,” I shoot back.
“Shh!” Charlene warns.
I roll my eyes; it’s a noisy café. “No one cares about my aversion to phallus-shaped fungus.”
A tiny old lady in front of us turns to glare. I guess her hearing aids are working fine. I smile at her until she looks away, and then address Charlene. “So I don’t get it. What’s the deal with the Darcy account? I mean, aside from everyone being pissed that I might get it even though I don’t have any real experience dealing with massive amounts of money, other than Buck’s.”
She and Dean exchange another look.
I throw up my hands. “Seriously, you two, if you’re trying to be incognito about this crap you’re failing. What’s the damn deal?”
Dean tries to smirk, but it looks more like a weird facial tic. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard the rumors.”
“What rumors?” Sometimes Dean is worse with gossip than a thirteen-year-old girl. Occasionally his style is also reminiscent of that particular age group.
“They’re swingers.”
I blink at him. It’s loud in here. Maybe I heard him wrong. “Pardon?”
“Swingers.” He says it slowly, making it two distinct syllables—like I’m an idiot, which admittedly, sometimes I am. But he’s being a jerk, and not in a funny way. More of an intentionally antagonistic way.
“I’m assuming you don’t mean they have a trapeze-artist fetish or something.”
“Nope.”
“So, like, they sleep with other people’s significant others?” Who the hell does that in this decade?
“That’s the rumor.”
“Well, where did the rumor come from? And how do you know it’s even true? I mean, let’s be logical. People used to think Alex was a manwhore who slept with three chicks in one night, and we all know that’s not true.”
“We don’t really know, though, do we? He just told you it didn’t happen, and you believe him,” Dean points out.
“He refuted the evidence, and the people who were with him that night corroborated it,” I reply.
“And all of those people happen to be his people. Like his sister.” Dean has the villain eyebrow going again. “Of course she’s going to defend his position.”
“His position?” I snort, even though my stomach is doing horrible somersaulty things. “This isn’t a criminal court case. And Sunny can’t lie. She’s worse than me. Have you ever seen her try to lie? It’s ridiculous. Alex did not bone three chicks in one night. End of story.”
“If you say so.” Dean’s smirking again.
“Why are you being like this today?”
“I’m just making a point. Usually there’s some truth in rumors. Waters may not have banged loads of bunnies, but he sure stuck his tongue in a lot of their mouths. Who knows if he did it with his dick, too.”
“Dean!” Charlene hisses, slapping his arm.
“What?” He looks around.
People are staring, and for once, I’m not the cause of the embarrassment. But I’m sure feeling the effects. I’m sure my face is blotchy. I look at the floor and let my hair shield my face from all the curious eyeballs.
Thankfully it’s our turn in line. I step up to the counter and order a BLT and a drink, then move aside. I don’t say anything else while we’re in the café, and Dean’s busy on his phone, doing whatever he does when he’s not being an asshole to me, apparently.
Once we have our food, we return to the office. I’m not interested in hearing more about the Darcys’ swinger habits, Dean’s thoughts on Alex’s sexual history, or a potential pre-nup.
“I really need to get back to work. That took a lot longer than I expected.” It’s not a total lie. Getting food took all of the twenty minutes I’d allotted to lunch.
Charlene seems conflicted. “Come sit with us for five minutes before you go back to work.”
“I can’t. I have too much to do. It’s cool. I’ll catch up with you later. We have the game tonight, anyway. If I don’t want to bring a file folder full of work, I need to get back to it.”
“Oh, that’s right, you two get great seats, don’t you? Must be nice to have all those connections.” Dean takes a break from his texting, or messaging, or snapchatting to join our conversation again.
“Did you forget to take your PMS pills today?” Charlene asks.
Dean’s mouth drops open. He twirls around and stomps down the hall.
Charlene waits until he’s out of earshot before she says, “Don’t take anything he says to heart, Vi. I think he’s got some personal stuff going on, and last week he made a bookkeeping mistake and got in trouble for it. He’s jealous.”
“That doesn’t mean he can be a jerk to me.”
“I’m not defending him. I’m just telling you what I know.”
“Right. Okay. I’m still going to go back to my desk. I don’t need to put up with that.”
“I could come with you.”
“It’s okay. I really will be working, so I won’t be any fun.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I grab her arm before she walks away. “Do you think he’s right, though?”
“Right about what?”
Just then a few of the women from the senior accounting department round the corner. Their giggling stops when they see us, and they plaster on fake smiles to go with their fake hellos.
“Nothing. Never mind. I’ll see you after lunch.”
Charlene follows behind the others. Looking over her shoulder, she sticks her tongue in h
Back at my desk, I flop into my chair and set my sandwich next to my keyboard. Shrugging out of my coat, I turn my monitor on, waiting for my login prompt.
Dean makes a valid point. While he wasn’t a manwhore, Alex did make out with a lot of girls prior to dating me. There are literally hundreds of pictures of him with his tongue in various girls’ mouths. Now, I don’t know how many of those girls ever got their hands down his pants, or got on their knees and tried to get his massive cannon down the hatch, but I’m imagining there were at least a few. Maybe more than a few.
Combine that revelation with the conversation about a pre-nup, and now I’m feeling less secure. Plus, the rumor about the Darcys being swingers is disconcerting, even if it is just a rumor. I don’t want to think about them boning other people while I’m presenting their financial portfolio next week.
I thought swinging was popular in the sixties and seventies, when everyone was doing coke and didn’t understand the ramifications of banging all sorts of people. I shudder at the idea of Alex putting his hands, or any other part of his body, on Darcy’s wife.
Her name is Bunny. How’s that for irony? She also has big boobs. Bigger than mine. Although, I think hers might be the paid-for variety. Not that it matters much. Boobs are boobs. If Alex can grab them and put his dick between them, he’s a happy man. What if he wants to slide his dick between her boobs? What if she wants to fondle mine? What if Mitch wants to have sex with me, and Alex wants to watch? Why has my life suddenly become a cheesy porno?
I try to focus on work, but I’m distracted by porntastic scenarios involving Alex and Bunny. I need answers. The internet will have some, but those aren’t necessarily reliable, as I’ve learned over time.
Buck is a good option. I pick up my work phone under the guise of doing my actual job and punch in his number. He answers on the third ring.
“Hey, Vi. How’s it going?”
“Okay. Fine. Good. You?”
He goes into immediate brother-protection mode. “What’s wrong?”
“Why would you think something’s wrong?”
“Seriously?”
“No, really, what tipped you off?”
“You sound like a prepubescent boy.”
“I have a throat thing.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Okay. No, I don’t.” I need to get better at lying. I wonder if there are classes for that kind of thing.
“So what’s wrong? You and Waters get into it or something? You want me to break his nose again?”
“No. Please don’t do that. He doesn’t snore yet, and if you break his pretty face, that might change, and I like sleeping beside his fuckhot body. Especially when he’s naked, and I’m naked, and there’s nothing but warm skin.” I inhale one of those deep breaths and release it so it makes the Darth Vader whooshing sound when I exhale into the receiver.
“Thanks for sharing all of that. Sunny tells me I’m like a cuddly warm blanket when we sleep naked.” Buck returns the overshare.
“That’s because you are a blanket. A big yeti blanket.”
“Ah, there we go. Whatever’s wrong can’t be that bad. So what’s the problem?”
“Are Mitch Darcy and his wife swingers?”
Buck coughs, like maybe I’ve made him choke on something. “Where’d you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter where I heard it. Is it true?”
“Shit. I don’t know, Vi. There are rumors, but then there are always rumors, ya know? Why’re you asking? Does Waters want you to go on a double date with them or something? I’ll shove my fist up his dick hole.”
I make a disgusted sound. “No, Buck, Alex doesn’t want to go on a double date with them. And please don’t put images of your fist near Alex’s dick in my head. That’s just awful. I’m supposed to present a proposal for the Darcys’ account next week, and Dean told me they’re swingers.”
“Who’s Dean?”
“Another guy who works here.”
“Oh.” Buck’s silent for a few seconds. “So what does them being swingers have to do with you managing their account?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I mean, I wondered if maybe they want me to manage their account because they have a secret agenda to get me and Alex to partner-swap or something.”
“Yeah, I don’t know much about swinging, ’cause I want to be the only one eating Sunny’s cookie, but I don’t think that’s how that whole deal works. If Darcy’s into screwing other people’s women and his wife wants to ride other guys’ dicks, they’re not gonna go after his teammates and their partners. That seems like a super-bad idea.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. He makes a good point. “Kind of like when you got caught with your coach’s niece in the public bathroom?”
“Thanks for bringing that up.”
“Sorry. You know I’m not getting on your case; I’m just making a comparison.”
“I don’t really think screwing around with a chick in a bathroom and wife-swapping are the same thing.”
“Right. Lance boning the trainer in the locker room seems like a better comparison.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“How’s he doing, anyway?” I ask. Now I’m making small talk. Also, I’m still following Tash on Instagram, and she keeps posting depressing inspirational sayings about the mistakes people make that they can’t take back, and letting things go, so I might be doing a little fishing.
I hear beeping in the background on Buck’s end. “He’s his usual self. Well, not quite, but he’s okay. Why’re you asking about Lance?”
“I don’t know. No reason.”
“Sunny told me Tash has been messaging her lately, asking about him, so if you want to know what’s going on between those two, I don’t have an answer. She fucked him around, and he’s not over it. That’s all I know.”
“It doesn’t seem like she’s over it, either.”
“Yeah, well, she’s the one who screwed him over, apparently, and Lance is pretty good at holding grudges, so I can’t see him jumping back into that, but you never can tell.”
“Yeah. Right. Relationships are so complicated.”
“Only because we make them that way.” He makes a slurping sound. “You need to talk to me about anything else?”
Sometimes Buck is surprisingly deep.
“Not right now.”
“Okay. Well, I’m gonna stuff my face with this leftover stew thing Sunny made and then go pick up Balls so we can hit the arena and get ready for the game.”
And sometimes he’s just Buck.
“Oh, wait. I have one more question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you think Alex will ask for a pre-nup before we get married?”
Buck is silent for a few seconds. “I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, the guy’s worth more than forty million, and he’s still got three years left on his contract with Chicago. So that’s another twenty-four coming his way, plus endorsements. I guess it’s possible, maybe even probable?”
Buck knows a lot about Alex’s salary; I suppose it is common knowledge. “Oh.”
“It wouldn’t be personal if he did, Vi. He has to protect himself even if you two do end up together forever.”
“Right.”
“Did he bring it up or something?”
“No. Dean mentioned it.”
“This is the same guy who told you Darcy was a swinger?”
“Yeah.” I pull up images of Darcy and his wife from the internet. She really is gorgeous—curvy, busty, leggy. I bet she lets him put it in her ass. Whore.
“This guy sounds like a shit-disturber. You need me to come down there and rip him a new one?”
“That’s a sweet offer, but you don’t need to tune up my coworkers. I can handle myself.”
“I’m almost positive the Darcy stuff is bull, but Alex knows him better than me since they’ve played together longer. You could ask him.” More slurping follows.
“Yeah. Okay. I should get back to work. I’ll see you tonight after the game.”
“All right, Vi. Try not to worry about the pre-nup stuff, or Darcy.”
“Okay.”
I try to focus on work after I hang up, but I have the attention span of a toddler on a sugar high. And I’m emotional. I end up hiding in the bathroom so I can silent-cry for a few minutes. I have a horrible feeling, and I don’t know what to attribute it to.
The game tonight will be a welcome break from all the other stuff. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Alex play live. I’m hoping we can have hot, aggressive, post-game sexy times and tomorrow I can be appropriately exhausted for all the right reasons. Not because I can’t stop worrying.
5
No Siren Loud Enough
VIOLET
I call Alex around five. The game doesn’t start for a few hours, but I won’t get to see him until it’s over, and he’ll turn off his phone by six so he can get into play mode.
He answers the call on the first ring. “Hey, you gonna be home early so I can see you before I leave for the arena?”
“I haven’t left yet, so I don’t think I’ll make it before you have to go.” I glance at the pile of papers on my desk and the endless list of things I need to finish. Yeah, there’s no way I’ll make it home, so the “think” part is just to ease the blow of disappointment. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.
“What about my pre-game good luck kiss? How’m I gonna get that from you if I don’t see you before I leave?” His voice is low, the way it gets when he’s thinking about sex.
I cross my legs as the fountain of beave turns on. “I gave you loads of good luck kisses this morning. Those aren’t going to carry you through?”
His words come out even grittier. “Those were hours ago. They don’t count.”
He’s so cute. “None of them count? Not even the ones I gave Super MC? Or the one my beaver gave him?”
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