by Tabatha Kiss
“You could eat anywhere with anyone.”
“True — but not on your dime.”
I shake my head. “First, I throw down four-figures for a dance and a smooch. Now, I have to stop by the butcher’s on my way home. Is there anything else you want from me?”
Her eyes narrow. “Ask me again tonight,” she says. “I’ll see you at seven, Lance.”
Trix cracks open the door on her side.
“Wait. You need my address,” I say.
“I already know where you live,” she says before she walks out and closes the door behind her.
I sit back. “Well, that’s unsettling,” I mutter to myself.
Thirteen
Trix
I can’t believe I just agreed to have dinner with him.
That old confession booth trick was risky enough. I had to round the block four times to be sure Marcus wasn’t following me before I went inside.
I should have said no. Why didn’t I say no?
Oh, honey. You’re not that stupid.
I know exactly why I agreed. My lips started tingling the second the question came out of his mouth. Dinner means being face-to-face with him again — and without a decades-old wooden screen between us. It means wine and quiet conversation. It means inching closer and closer to each other until we…
It means I’m beyond fucked. That’s what.
I need advice. I can’t go over there tonight without having a long, hard talk about this with an expert.
I leave my car in the parking garage down the street from Nora’s condo. She’ll know what to do. Love and relationships are what Nora Payne does. It’s what earns her the big bucks. She’ll know exactly how I’m supposed to handle my obvious attraction to the man trying to put my father behind bars for the rest of his life…
I hope.
I reach the building and use my spare key for her place to get inside. Sure, she gave one to me and Melanie for emergencies only, but hell, I think this qualifies.
“Nora?” I ask as I open her door.
I glance around her empty living room and smile. She definitely dragged Clive around to buy him some stuff. Her cutesy hot pink throw pillows are gone, replaced by muted gray and black ones. Her bookshelf is only half-full. The top shelves are empty, dusted clean and ready for whatever new stuff Clive wants.
Aww. Compromise. Ain’t it cute?
“Hey, Nora!” I shout again as I cross the hall to her home office. “You here?”
My voice echoes across the apartment. Nothing but silence.
I reach the stairwell and climb up toward the bedrooms.
“You didn’t sleep in, did you?” I ask outside the open master bedroom. “Because I honestly didn’t think you were capable of—”
I freeze in the doorway, my cheeks instantly tight with laughter.
Clive lies on the bed, alone. His arms are stretched out to the sides and fastened to the headboard with deep red neckties. He’s completely nude with exception to the small corner of the white bedsheet obscuring his groin. His face is beet red and completely grimaced to the point that he’s kind of not even recognizable.
I bite my tongue, holding back my laugh. “Hi there, Clive.”
“Hello, Trix,” he says, clearing his throat.
“Where’s Nora?”
“Nora...” He pauses. “She ran out for a few minutes.”
I take a step into the room. “She ran out for a few minutes?” I repeat.
“To the post office.”
“Nora went to the post office and...” I point to his arms, “left you here like this?”
He nods slowly. “Yep.”
I smirk. “And why did she do that?”
“Oh, she wants me to... think about what I’ve done.”
My lips twitch. “And what exactly did you do?”
Clive hesitates. “You know, I’d rather not say.”
“Fair enough.” I shrug one shoulder. “She’ll probably tell us at brunch tomorrow anyway.”
I turn to leave, then stop.
“Hey, you’re kind of a dick, right?” I ask him.
“I...” He frowns. “I don’t think so?”
“No, you are,” I say, walking back in. “You lied to Nora, got in her pants, all in an effort to steal her company secrets and sell them for millions. You’re a dick.”
He shifts. “Well, when you put it like that...”
I touch my chest. “I’m not judging! This isn’t judgment. I could actually use some advice and Mel and Nora are...” I curl my nose up. “Let’s just say they’re a little pure and I need to bounce ideas off someone whose morality has some shades of gray.” I gesture at his bound hands. “Pun intended, of course.”
Clive nods. “What kind of advice?”
I cross the room and plop down on the bed beside him. He shifts again, trying to inch away but quickly realizes that any movement will make that sheet slide right off him.
“So,” I begin, focusing on his face instead of his chiseled body, “in case Nora hasn’t told you yet, my family is the Argento crime family.”
“Crime family?” he says. “You mean like... the mob?”
“Not like the mob. We are the mob. Like super mob. But not in a Michael Corleone, kill everyone who disagrees with me kind of way. More like a give the people what they want and to hell with the man kind of way. You know what I mean?”
“I think so?”
I wave a hand. “Anyway, my Uncle Alonso got busted whacking a guy out in California earlier this year. Which isn’t normally how we do things but there’s also a protocol for that kind of mistake. You take the plea deal and you do your time. You don’t sell out the family but Uncle Al had a case of the wussies and sold my dad down the river in exchange for a reduced sentence.”
Clive’s mouth sits wide open. “Well, that... sucks.”
“No kidding.” I sigh. “So now, Papa’s in jail on criminal conspiracy charges. His trial is coming up and I’m totally sick about it. My family’s keeping me at arm’s length but they won’t tell me why.”
“They probably just don’t want to upset you.”
“I’m not a little girl,” I argue. “I don’t need people to protect my fee-fees. I’m Angelo Argento’s oldest child. I know how this family works.” I pause, looking down. “You know that guy I danced with at the auction last night?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“That’s Lance. He’s the lawyer trying to nail my dad to the wall.”
“Well, that’s awkward.”
“Not as awkward as him asking me out to dinner an hour ago.”
“Whoa,” he says.
“Yeah, whoa.”
He leans forward an inch. “What’d you say?”
“I said yes.” I pause, feeling a warm twinge in my gut. “I’ve always had a thing for the forbidden guy, you know? My brothers’ friends, my dad’s bodyguards, and now...”
“Your... friend’s boyfriend?” he asks slowly.
I snort. “God, no. I’m not a monster.”
He exhales. “Okay.”
“Do I really seem like the kind of girl who would try and take advantage of her best friend’s man tied to a bed in front of her?” I slap his bare thigh. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Daddy-o.”
“Sorry,” he says, shifting again.
“Honest mistake.” I shrug. “The forbidden guy is my kryptonite and Lance Tyler is ticking all of my boxes. He’s smoking hot. He wears nothing but suits that actually fit him. He’s witty and smart — and not just street smart, either. He could triple word score me all night long if you know what I mean.”
Clive shakes his head. “Not really.”
I sigh as I stare at the white wall above his head. “Maybe you’re right,” I say.
“I am?”
“This is almost too naughty. Even by my standards. I can’t date the lawyer trying to dismantle my family legacy. That would be baaaaad.” I chew on my lip. “On the other hand, I’m not going to be able to think objec
tively about this without more information and Lance has got nothing but information. If I don’t see this through then my dad could rot in jail. I can’t let that happen. I have to take one for the team.” I look at Clive. “You’re right.”
He blinks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I’ll have dinner with him. It’s just dinner, right? What’s the harm in that?” I grin. “You’re really easy to talk to. I can see why Nora likes you.”
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” I gesture at his hands. “Want me to let you out?”
“Oh, no,” he says quickly. “She wouldn’t like that.”
I raise a brow. “She’s like four-foot-eleven, dude.”
“Yeah, but she can be...” His throat clears. “You know.”
I slap his thigh again. “Yeah, I know.” I stand up off the bed. “Anyway, I’ll let you go. You probably still have a lot to think about.”
He nods. “Yeah…”
“But, before I do, question: If you’re the Dom, why are you the one tied up?”
“Oh, we’re just…” He chuckles lightly. “We’re trying something new.”
I smile, feeling happy for my friends. “Good for you guys.”
“Thanks.”
I give him one last nod and walk to the door.
“Hey, Trix.”
I pause. “Yes?”
“If you could...” he waves his bound hands, “…you know, not tell anyone about this, that’d be great.”
“Oh, honey.” I shake my head, smiling wide. “That’s not how this works.”
He swallows. “It’s not?”
“You should really sit down and have a drink with Robbie,” I suggest. “He’ll fill you in on your role here.”
“... My role?”
I wink. “Bye, Daddy.”
I take off down the hall and reach the bottom of the stairs as the front door opens.
“Hey, Nora,” I greet with a hop in my step.
She smiles instinctively. “Hey, Trix—” Her voice drops as her eyes flick up the stairwell. “Uh, what are you doing here?” she asks, trying hard to be casual.
I wave a hand. “Just stopped by for some advice. I’m good now.” I plant a quick kiss on her cheek. “Bye! See you at brunch tomorrow.”
“O… kay,” she says. “Bye.”
I walk out the door, chuckling softly to myself as I make my way down to the street to the parking garage again.
Fourteen
Lance
My stomach growls the moment I slide the plate of fillets out of my fridge. They’ve been marinating since I brought them home earlier and I won’t lie and say I haven’t been looking forward to them all day long. Inviting Trix over was a good idea — mostly because it forced me to splurge a little on a decent cut of meat.
Then again, it was still a bad idea from pretty much every other reason, from business ethics right on down to concerns for my general safety.
Butterflies do battle with hunger pangs in my gut. I’ll let them sort it out while I cook.
It’s six o’clock. Not quite time to start searing the steaks but time to pre-heat the oven for the hasselback potatoes.
I reach for the fridge and pause to stop from running into the large dalmatian planted at my feet.
“Hey, Layla,” I say to her.
She points her long snout from me to the plate on the counter.
“No,” I say. “That’s not for you.”
She lets out a whine.
I chuckle as I grab the bag of potatoes. “I’m sorry, girl. I know I always share but tonight’s special.” I pause. “I think.”
Her little eyes narrow.
“You’re right. It’s not. It can’t be. I’m not even sure why I asked her out, to be honest.” I bite my cheek. “Well, I mean, I know why but I’m not sure why I let myself go through with it, you know?”
I slide a large knife out of the holder in the corner, along with the sharpener from the drawer.
“What’s more shocking is that she said yes,” I add, peeking down at Layla. “She had every right to tell me to go fuck myself but she didn’t. She has every reason to not even talk to me at all, and yet...” I squint. “Do you think she’s playing me? I’m this close to putting her father in prison. Why would she even give me a minute of her time unless she thinks she can change that somehow?”
I toss a baby carrot into my mouth from the salad bowl, thinking hard.
“And I haven’t even mentioned the bodyguard. There’s obviously something going on there and he’s about the last dude I want to mess with, you know what I mean?”
I glance down at the dog again but she’s gone.
“Layla?”
I look into the living room ahead of me to find her resting in her usual spot beneath the coffee table.
“Sorry I bored you,” I say, smiling.
I push the thoughts away to focus on dinner. Soon the place starts smelling of various herbs and cooked meat and the battle in my gut rages just a little harder. I think the butterflies are winning, though. Any minute now, Trix is going to walk through my door and I’m not at all sure when she’s going to walk back out again.
No, Lance. Yes, you do. After dinner. She’s leaving after dinner.
You’ll make light small talk, share a good meal, and you’ll discuss the case.
That’ll be it. Dinner, conversation, and—
The doorbell rings and I clench.
Layla lifts her head, her snout instantly targeting the door across the room.
I give the salad one more quick toss before setting the tongs to the side.
“Be cool, Layla,” I say as I cross the kitchen. “It’s just a friend.”
She eyes me closely.
I reach for the doorknob and freeze as I realize I’m still wearing an apron. I tug the knot and it unravels before I slide it over my head and hang in on the coat rack by the door. A quick inspection of my tucked-in white shirt and black pants and I’m ready to go.
I whisper to myself. “Just dinner and conversation and—”
I open the door and there she is, standing on my stoop in a tight, black skirt and a red top, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a silver clutch in the other.
“Hey, Lance,” Trix says, her red lips curled into a smile.
“Hey.”
I try to say something more but she’s once again rendered me speechless. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice as her eyes drop to my feet and her mouth opens wide.
“And who is this?” she asks.
I look down to find the dog at my feet, staring up at Trix with great interest.
“This is Layla,” I say, taking a step back. “Come on in. She doesn’t bite. Just whines for attention, mostly.”
“Aww.” Trix follows me inside. “She’s so cute. I love dogs.”
She presents her hand and waits for Layla to sniff it. One little smell and she licks Trix’s palm and welcomes a quick pat on the head.
“And she seems to like you,” I say.
Trix laughs. “Good doggy has good taste.”
I admire the curve of her body as she bends over to scratch behind Layla’s ears. “Yes, she does,” I say, clearing my throat. I reach for the wine. “I’ll take that for you.”
She stands up and hands it over, her eyes scanning the entryway.
“Never pictured you with a dog,” she says as she follows me to the kitchen.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask as I set the bottle on the counter.
“Figured you for more of a fish guy.”
I laugh. “A fish guy?”
“Yeah, a few aquariums with some over-priced tropical fish.” She stands on the other side of the island counter and watches as I fetch two wine glasses out of the cabinet. “Feed put on a timer. Automated cleaning. Low maintenance enough for you to be gone at the office for days at a time but just enough to talk yourself out of being lonely.”
“Oh, I’m anything but lonely.”
“I ca
n see that.” She looks around again. “You have a nice place, too.”
“You’re surprised?” I ask.
“You constantly surprise me, Lance.”
“Good.” I pour a bit of wine into a glass and set it down in front of her. “You do, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” She pinches the stem of her glass. “How so?”
“You showed up, for one. Thought maybe I’d be having a quiet, candle-lit dinner with the dog. Not that she isn’t good company, but…”
She laughs. “You underestimate my weakness for free food. Speaking of, it smells like heaven’s steakhouse in here.”
“You said you wanted meat,” I say, “and I can do meat better than just about anything else.”
“Well, I knew if I had said Italian, you’d only screw it up,” she jokes.
I chuckle. “By your standards, most likely.”
She takes a sip of her wine. “How else?” she asks.
The oven dings behind me. I reach for a mitt.
“How else do you surprise me?”
She nods.
I open the oven and slide out the pan with two perfect potatoes on it. Trix’s eyes grow wide as she stares at them, impressed and hungry.
I pause to think. “So, this is what it’s like,” I say.
“What is?”
“Getting grilled with questions.”
She chuckles. “Ah, you stumbled on my evil plan so quickly, Mr. Tyler.”
“Never felt so on-the-spot before.”
“And I haven’t even gotten to the good ones yet.”
“Skip to a good one,” I say.
“All right.” She takes another sip of wine. “Why did you kiss me at the auction?” she asks.
“You were gonna kiss me first,” I say with a shrug.
“Yeah, on the cheek.”
“I thought…” I breathe a hesitant laugh. “Okay. I remember thinking if this is the only time I’ll get to feel her lips on me… then it’s not gonna be the cheek.”
She blinks. “Really?”
I nod.
“Wow.” She sips her wine. “That’s a good line. I’ll have to pass that one on to Melanie.”
“It’s true. You’re a beautiful, smart woman, Trix.”