GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  Andy answered her charge with renewed stroking and nipping. She enjoyed every second of it. She laughed at his silence. “That’s right. Don’t answer me, lover. We all know you make the rounds.”

  He brought his mouth up to nuzzle her ear. “Who says that?”

  “Oh please, honey. You know perfectly well I knew Elise Chambers socially. I’ll bet you’re breathing a sigh of relief right now. According to Maggie and Preston, she was feeding your secrets to them.”

  Patrice had expected him to find her little remark amusing. Instead he stiffened and grew distant. All stroking and nipping ceased.

  “What did you hear?” he asked.

  A horrified thought occurred to her. “My God, Andy, you did know Elise was dead, didn’t you?”

  He pushed her off his lap. “Of course I knew she was dead!”

  She barely escaped landing butt first on the bed. His violent shift in mood made no sense. “Andy, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He tied the belt on his plush bathrobe and slammed his feet into his slippers. “You’ve got your money, Patrice. It’s time you were going. I have work to do.”

  She stood staring at him for a moment, speechless.

  He picked her purse up from the floor and handed it to her, along with the envelope containing her money. “We’ll pick this up sometime later.”

  “Yeah, sure, Andy.” She re-buttoned her blouse with fumbling fingers. She had never been blown off so abruptly and so unexpectedly before in her life.

  Chapter 32

  Maggie had brought her tears under control twice now, only to have them restart each time. Thank God no one was around to see her like this. Without warning, and in less than a week, her life had spun completely out of control. She tried to make sense of her emotions, but couldn’t seem to separate her anger from her fear, from her hurt.

  Not surprisingly, she’d felt her anger first. She’d been set up and unjustly accused, and now she stood to lose the thing in her life that had given her a sense of importance. The business she’d built for herself, and the life she’d built along with it.

  Fear had set in next. And then hurt. Then she thought about Preston.

  If someone had asked her two weeks ago, she’d have sworn she was over him. Now, he was not only back in her life, but after the kiss they’d shared this afternoon, she felt all the same conflicting emotions that had sent her running for Key West in the first place. The sense of loss, of isolation, of feeling neglected, irrelevant and taken for granted. And the horrible, awful realization she’d come to after her father’s death that Preston was just another one of those people putting her second in their life.

  So why did she care? It didn’t make any sense to fall in love with a man who made her feel as unimportant as her father had. Maybe her nineteen-year-old self hadn’t known any better, but her twenty-six-year-old self certainly should. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She knew better. She knew the real Preston.

  And still, she’d denied all logic and let him kiss her. Let him mold their bodies together and intertwine their tongues. If she hadn’t suddenly remembered they were standing in the middle of the bar, her bar, she might have let him do more. Even knowing there was no possible future for them.

  It didn’t matter that he was being so supportive about helping her with the bar closure. That was indirectly his fault anyway. Certainly, his actions and his involvement with Taralynn Clarke had been a contributing factor.

  He hadn’t changed. Not really. Not enough to make her feel like she was the top priority in his life. He still wanted the corporate throne more than he wanted to be with her. He liked being a power broker and a media star. That was why he’d come to her for help to begin with. So he wouldn’t lose the very things in life that kept him from being with her.

  She dried up the last of her tears. She wasn’t as strong as she’d always thought. Whether she liked it or not. Not when it came to Preston.

  With shaking hands, she dialed Henry’s cell phone. Preston had said he would get the legal team working to re-open the bar, but she wanted to talk to Henry herself. Right now. She needed to hear him say something could be done and the Clarkes and this DeSantis creep would be punished for what they’d done.

  Her call was answered right away. Henry was dependable, as well as smart.

  “Maggie,” he said. “I just got an urgent message from Preston asking me to call him. Is something wrong?”

  “Everything is wrong.” She successfully fought back her tears this time. “The Clarkes paid off someone to shut down my bar.”

  “They have?” Henry’s voice stayed neutral. A lawyer through and through. He rarely reacted to anything that was said to him. Just asked a lot of questions. “Your bar is shut down right now?”

  “Yes. Since about an hour ago.”

  “Okay. Who shut down the bar?”

  “A man named DeSantis. He’s the chief of the ABT’s Bureau of Law Enforcement for this region. At least, that’s what his license says.”

  “Okay. Why did he shut down the bar?”

  “He says he found half a joint in my storage room.” Her voice rose. “But, Henry, Tracy swears it wasn’t there when she was in the storage room just fifteen minutes earlier, and I believe her. Tracy would never lie to me about something like that.”

  “Okay. Was there anyone with DeSantis when he made his inspection?”

  “No. We had a larger dinner crowd than expected and Tracy was busy trying to help the wait staff deliver food.”

  It had been a mistake to let the man do his inspection unobserved, but Tracy was already heaping enough blame on herself. She didn’t need anyone else helping to pile it on.

  Henry didn’t say anything for a moment, just gave a thoughtful sigh. “Do you have any proof the Clarkes paid this man to close your bar, other than your own suspicions?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But, I believe Tracy. I know no one who works for me would ever smoke dope, especially not at work. I have everyone drug tested before I even hire them.”

  There was another pause before Henry spoke again. “Well, if DeSantis was paid off, then there would have to be some evidence of it somewhere along the line. I’ll see what I can do about getting a look at his bank statements. Maybe poke around and find some connection between this man and Andy Clarke.”

  Hoped swelled inside her. Henry was smart and well-liked by many people. Maybe he could find out something. “Any chance you can find something out by tomorrow?

  “I’m coming to Key West,” he said. “Maybe have a chat with Mr. DeSantis. I’ll stop by your place first and have a look at the record-keeping done at the bar.”

  “Thank you, Henry. I’ll see you soon.”

  Maggie knew Tracy would have all the cash drawers counted already and all the cleaning finished, but she needed to pull herself together so she could go downstairs and give a pep talk to her staff before they left, and assure them they would be paid for the time they were off work.

  Preston came in just as she was getting ready to leave. “Tracy’s got the money counted and the place cleaned up,” he said. “I had a talk with your employees and told them they’d get paid for the time off. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll pay for their checks if you want.”

  She stopped cold. “You did what?” They were exactly the same decisions she herself had made, but how dare he presume to make them for her? Let alone dismiss her staff before she had a chance to speak to them? A helpless feeling of irrelevance washed over her again. It was her staff. Her business. Hers. Not his.

  Preston frowned and balled up his hands. “I told you I’d take care of their pay checks. Consider it a down payment on your stock, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He might as well have hit her. “Hardly! I had every intention of paying my staff for the time they’re off work. What I don’t appreciate is your conscription of my authority. This is my business and it’s my responsibility to make decisions about how to run it and then communicate those decisions
to my staff. Not yours.”

  “Maggie, I was just trying to help.” His tone was sharp. He stomped off to the other end of her very small office and folded his arms across his chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been the one defending you here. Trying to keep your spirits up. Standing up to that little bald asshole for you. You know, it’s nice to see you’re grateful.”

  “I am grateful!” She practically shouted at him. So many of their previous encounters had ended this way. Each of them starting with good intentions, but antagonizing each other anyway.

  “Damn it, Preston.” She fought her tears harder. “Why does it always have to be this way between us?”

  He walked back over to her and took her hand, gently stroking her fingertips. His touch still triggered an electric current in her body. She looked into his misty grey eyes and saw her regret, and desire, and frustration, mirrored in his stare.

  “I don’t know, Maggie. If neither one of us wants it this way, then why is this where we always seem to end up?”

  A single tear slipped down her cheek before he turned and walked out the door. “I wish I knew.”

  Chapter 33

  Taralynn flashed her camera-ready smile at Nick. She’d been gone all of five minutes before barging back into his office, snapping shut her cell phone and smiling like she’d just won the lottery. His patience with her antics lasted all of two seconds before he’d begun suppressing the urge to bodily throw her out of his office. He picked up the receiver to the phone on his desk, as if about to make a call. “Sweetheart, you’ve got that look in your eyes like there’s something more you’d like to say. So why don’t you just spill it?”

  “Nick, you know me too well. Of course I have something more to tell you.”

  “And that would be?”

  “The bigger, better story you promised to print.”

  He should have known. “This had better be good.”

  “Oh it is,” she assured him. “You know that splashy cover story you printed about the charity ball Maggie’s having at her bar? The one I came over here so upset about in the first place?”

  “Yes?” Skepticism laced his single word response. He scowled, watching intently every twirl of her hair around her finger.

  “Well.” She paused and licked her lips. “It’s going to be a little hard for her to have that party with her bar closed down.”

  Okay. Now she had his attention. Fantastic scoops on Hollywood’s latest hook-ups, break-ups and extra-curricular flings swirled and vanished before his eyes like water going down a drain. “Maggie’s bar is closed down?”

  She gave him some pathetic doe-eyed stare. “Uh-huh.”

  “When, and how, did that happen?”

  “Oh…today, because someone found drugs in her bar.”

  “Drugs?” That did not sound like Maggie. He’d bet money they weren’t hers. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure, Nick. But I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your objectivity. Go ahead and check it out with a Mr. DeSantis. He’s a high-ranking official with the ABT.”

  “I’ll do that.” He didn’t know quite what to think, but he would damn sure be checking the story out.

  “Well then.” Taralynn rose from the chair on the other side of his desk where she had parked herself and grabbed her leather Gucci handbag. “I guess my work here is done.” Practically skipping over to his side of the desk, she gave him a wink and a kiss before making her way to the door. “See you around, sweetie.”

  As soon as she opened the door to leave, Nick nearly died of shock. Standing right outside his office door was the only woman he’d ever given a damn about. His ex-wife, Janelle. She walked right past the exiting Taralynn, her smugness assured in her every step. She didn’t even seem to notice when Taralynn paused and took note of her. She just kept walking, and closed the door behind her. She stopped when she got within inches of Nick and arched her brows. “Slumming?”

  He cast another scowl in Taralynn’s direction. “Not in this lifetime or the next. She’s busy working her latest smear campaign against your brother.”

  “Wait.” Janelle purred. “Let me be shocked for a moment while I take that information in. You mean to tell me she has yet more dirt to dish on poor little Preston?”

  “I’m afraid so. And this time it looks like I may have to take her seriously.”

  Janelle fairly pushed him back toward the direction of his desk. “I think you’d better sit down and tell me everything.”

  Chapter 34

  Rod’s laughter at a time like this truly amazed Preston. “Did you hear me correctly?” He had to ask.

  The attorney’s chuckling subsided for a brief moment. “Oh yeah. I heard you just fine. Why the hell do you think I’m laughing?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know.” Preston drummed his fingers on the bar impatiently. At Rod’s insistence, they’d met at this noisy place, some chain bar/restaurant with loud talk and even louder music. It was a busy place full of everyone from middle-aged yuppies carrying cameras to senior citizens in Bermuda shorts, to college-age kids, notably female, dressed in thigh-high shorts and bikini tops. He downed his scotch on the rocks and turned his attention away from the crowd and back to his lawyer. “Why don’t you fill me in on what you find so amusing about Maggie’s bar being closed down.”

  “Not a problem, my friend.” Rod straightened himself in his chair, still smiling. “Preston, my man, today is Maggie’s lucky day. I am going to have her bar back open before she can tell this DeSantis guy to fuck off.”

  “Oh really?” He’d always known Rod was chock full of himself, but this was a bit cocky, even for him. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  The man’s grin grew wider. He nodded and winked, still not letting Preston in on the joke. “Do you know who the head of the ABT is?”

  “No.” Guessing games were not something he enjoyed, particularly with someone he was paying to work for him. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  Tipping back a bottle of beer, Rod swallowed a long drink before bringing it back to rest on the table. “The very leggy, very well-built, Jane Kingsley.”

  Preston raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  “And,” Rod started to laugh all over again. “Believe me, the woman owes me a favor. I helped her nephew get a joyriding charge expunged from his record less than a year ago. She will do anything for me, including discrediting this DeSantis jerk. I guarantee it.”

  “I see.” He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going, and he didn’t want to hear it. Maggie would object to anything less than going through proper channels, and he was pretty sure those weren’t the channels Rod would be taking. At the same time, however, he had to get her bar re-opened. Quickly. He saw now how important the bar was to her. Letting her know it was important to him, too would go a long way in healing the rift between them. That much seemed obvious.

  “Rod, you do understand I don’t want there to be the least hint of impropriety where Maggie is concerned, don’t you?”

  He just laughed. “For crying out loud, Preston. I’m your lawyer. You don’t think I’m going to do anything illegal, do you?”

  “Just being legal isn’t going to cut it here. Maggie’s going to want everything above-board. Not just relying on personal favors. She’s going to want her name and her reputation cleared.” There. He’d made Maggie’s concerns crystal clear.

  Rod stopped smiling. “Hey, do you think I would risk jeopardizing my reputation? Come on, buddy. Trust me. I will have that bar re-opened in time for her charity ball without a single black mark on her liquor license, or anywhere else.”

  “Okay. Fine. I don’t want to know what you’re going to do then. Just get her back in business.”

  Rod gave him the high-five. “No problem, my man. Consider it done.”

  Chapter 35

  Maggie sat at the end of her dock, dangling her feet in the water. What a disaster the day had been. As much as she hated to tempt Murphy’
s law, it was hard for her to see how things could get much worse. Inhaling a deep breath, she tasted the fresh breeze of late afternoon and wished she could lose herself somewhere. She tried to focus her thoughts on her immediate present, on the rough feel of the old wooden dock she sat upon, on the warmth of the water lapping at her feet. But the illusion only lasted a few seconds before she was disturbed by the sound of Preston’s voice.

  “Maggie,” he called out. “I’ve got some good news.”

  To her chagrin, he had Rod in tow. And they were both making their way across the dock to where she sat. “Mr. Skinner,” she said without standing. “What brings you here?”

  He flashed her that wide smile he seemed to always be wearing and tipped down his sunglasses. His bald head glistened in the sunlight. Like he polished it or something.

  When he spoke to her, he stared at her straight-on. “It’s Rod, remember?”

  She continued to sit and splash her feet in the water. “I remember.” She looked up at Preston. “What’s he doing here?”

  Preston sat down on the dock beside her. “He’s here to help. Rod and I have figured out a way to get your bar opened back up.”

  “That’s right.” Rod followed Preston’s lead and sat down on the other side of her. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, babe. I have everything under control. Before you know it, your cash registers will be singing again.”

  Good grief. She shook her head slowly. This had to be what a migraine felt like. “My name is not babe, Rod, and my cash registers aren’t my biggest concern right now. My bar and the charity ball are.”

  He stared at her, doubt clouding his eyes. “Of course your cash registers are your top concern. That bar won’t be of much use to you if it’s not making money.”

  She started to say something, but stopped. Reiterating her concern about the charity ball to him would be a wasted effort. She turned her attention back to Preston. “Could I speak with you privately, please?”