Nan put a hand on her sister’s arm. “Calm down, sweets; it’s not like this is actually harming us, just more of her bull crap. And look what paper it’s in.” She waved the tabloid in the air. “The thing I want to know is, who put her up to it. She’s a bitch, yes, but unless there were some serious financial incentives, she wouldn’t bother. She likes to pretend we don’t exist.”
Joel sighed and sat back. “I don’t think we have to look far to see who is behind this.”
“Gregor?” Skandar cursed. “I don’t get what he gets out of it. This is some petty shit.”
“Yup.”
For a while there was silence, all lost in their own thoughts, then Joel got up. “Look, I say we ignore anything he does that isn’t a direct threat to personal safety. By reacting to every made-up story, we’re giving him the oxygen of attention, of publicity. The more elegant thing to do is to say nothing. If you get direct questions from the press, roll your eyes and walk away.” He grinned at Hayley. “However tempting it might be to cuss them out.”
Hayley smiled back and high-fived him. “I’ll try. You’re right, though, as long as he doesn’t threaten any of us physically or the business, what harm can these stories actually do?”
“Tell that to Quilla,” Nan said softly.
“That,” Skandar said, sounding twenty years older than he was, “is a different situation entirely. That’s not revenge; that’s obsession.”
Floriana Morgan thanked the bellboy and took the huge package, frowning, staggering under its weight a little. She wasn’t expecting anything; her mom had sent her a care package two days ago. She sat on the bed and pulled open the envelope that had come with it.
Thought you could use these, compliments of the Ran Mallory Art Foundation. It’s always thrilling to me when someone else loves art as much as I do, so think of this as both a thank you and a ‘way to go'. Enjoy. Grady Mallory. (PS: absolutely no strings attached)
Flori was touched beyond words, and as she began to pull open the package, she had to stop and catch her breath. Inside was the highest-end Apple laptop money could buy, a graphics tablet, and an iPad Pro. She couldn’t quite believe it. With trembling hands, she pulled each item from its packaging, turning them over in her hands. She flicked the laptop on and waited for it to boot up.
Could she accept this? Were there really no strings attached to it? She shook her head, blindsided. Grady Mallory was clearly a very generous man—as well as being drop-dead gorgeous. The screen flicked up, and an image opened. Flori started to laugh. It was a picture of Grady posing like the Fonz. Underneath, he’d added “Coffee at the Spitfire at 4:00 p.m. today? If no, text me.” He’d left her his cellphone number.
Flori felt a small thrill pass through her. She wasn’t sure exactly why Grady Mallory had taken such an interest in her—at first she thought it was just to get information from her, but talking to him that first time had changed her mind. He genuinely loved art.
She would meet him for coffee later, to thank him, if nothing else. As a friend, she told herself, just as a friend.
Grady smiled as he heard Asia’s voice on the other end of the phone. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, yourself. How goes it in the Big Easy?”
“Pretty cool—missing my buddy,” he said with a grin. Asia chuckled.
“Gray, you don’t know how much I’d rather be there, but work calls. Have you managed to get any pieces yet?”
He told her about the auctions and Floriana Morgan. “Good kid, loves art.”
Asia laughed softly. “You’re just like your dad, you know, never can resist a good cause. Listen, I do have something I need to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?”
“Kit. Now, I know I don’t owe him anything at all, but as a courtesy, I need to tell him about whatever this—you and me—is. I don’t have a definition yet … and I’m not asking you for one, it’s just with you being siblings, it complicates things.”
Grady chewed this over. “I know … look, for what it’s worth, I’d like to see how things go, on a more formal footing when I get back to Seattle. What do you say?”
“I’d like that.”
“And maybe I’ll just tell Kit I’d like to ask you out, test the water.”
Asia sighed. “I guess so, and I need to talk to Sebastian. God, why is this so complicated?”
Grady laughed but didn’t reply. Asia was silent. Then, in a low voice,
“I should have never married him, Gray. I hurt everyone, especially you, and I can’t stand that. I hate that I caused you more pain.”
“That’s in the past,” he said, but his voice broke, and he cleared his throat to cover it. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I promise.”
After they’d said goodbye, Grady called Kit before he could chicken out. Kit sounded happier than he’d ever heard him. There was a lot of raucous laughter in the background.
What’s going on there?” Grady said with a chuckle.
“I’m being ganged up on, that’s what’s happening … Tiger, no, arghhhhhh!” There was scuffling, and more laughter, then Kit came back on the phone, breathless. “Sorry about that. I was just defeated by the great knight Tiger of Tiggerdom. He might need to work on that name.”
“Who are you and where is my brother?” Grady said dryly, and Kit sniggered.
“All me, bro. Just a better version. What’s up?”
Grady took a deep breath. “Look, I’m just going to come out and say this … I’d like to date Asia.”
There was a silence on the other end of the phone.
“Kit?”
Kit cleared his throat, and there was noticeably less warmth in his voice when he spoke. “You two been talking?”
“Well, yeah. We’ve always been friends; you know that.”
“Yeah. Well. Gray,” Kit sighed, “it’s not my place anymore to give my blessing for you two to date. You’re both free and single. And it’s not like the most surprising news I’ve had.”
Grady frowned. “But I don’t want it to affect our relationship.”
“Gray, you do what you have to do. Look, I have to go. Speak soon.” And he hung up.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it.” He might have known Kit would be reticent, but now that he was with Bo Kennedy and happier than he’d ever been, Grady had counted on his blessing. Was he naive, thinking Kit would be happy for them? That he didn’t still love Asia, despite everything?
Damn it.
“I cannot even begin to thank you,” Floriana said again, but Grady waved her thanks away.
“Just promise me you’ll keep on following your passion, even through the rough times, and I’ll be happy.” He picked up his coffee and sipped it. Flori shifted nervously in his seat. Since meeting her, Grady had been preoccupied, edgy, and aloof. It made her uncomfortable.
“So, are you going to the sale tomorrow?” Just say anything.
Grady smiled. “Is it worth me going?”
She flushed, and he relented. “I’m kidding, Flori. Look, sorry, I’m a bit out of it. Let’s start again. Yes, I’ll probably go. There’s a Kahlo sketch I have my eye on. I’m prepared to go pretty high on it, so ...”
He gave her a wicked grin, which she had to return. “Good, I’m glad you’ll be there,” she said, flushing, “Makes it more fun knowing I’m going to kick your ass.”
Grady laughed loudly. “Challenge accepted.”
Flori looked around the coffee house. “This place is nice; I hadn’t come across it before.”
Grady nodded. “Always has the best coffee,” he remarked, nodding towards the baristas. “They’re properly trained, for years. Makes a difference. I came here on my honeymoon seventeen years ago—Molly was born here and knew all the best spots to eat and drink. She used to say that unless I loved good food and good coffee, she couldn’t be with me. Doofus,” he added fondly.
Flori felt a small pang of both of sadness and a little jealousy. “Are you still together
?”
Grady gave her a sad smile. “Molly died six months after our honeymoon. Stage IV breast cancer.”
Flori was shocked. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
Grady nodded. “It was. No denying that, it was horrific. And I lost my best friend. Molly was an artist, too.”
He sighed and looked away, obviously not wanting to get emotional in front of her. Flori studied him. His dark blond hair had a light curl to it, cut short and efficient, no need for styling. There was a faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, the dark green eyes rimmed with dark blond lashes. She liked that he had a few scars, a few lines; it made him less perfect and entirely more desirable.
Shit. Desirable? Really, Floriana? Like Grady Mallory isn’t way out of your league? She kicked herself mentally and cast around for something else to talk about. Grady grinned at her, not helping her with her crush. She smiled brightly.
“Have you been to the art gallery on Chartres?”
He thought about it, then shook his head. “I think I must have missed it.”
“You wanna come with me? If you have time this afternoon, that is?”
Grady nodded. “Sure thing. Then, if you like, we can grab some dinner?”
Flori grinned, trying not to let her delight show too much. “Love to.”
Grady drained his coffee. “Deal. Come on then, before it closes.”
Yep. Yup. Definitely. She had a queen-sized crush on Grady Mallory. He was so much fun, so knowledgeable, so … something. Last night they had laughed until their sides hurt at dinner, messing around. She hadn’t felt the age gap between them once, and was surprised, in fact, when she got home and Googled him to see he was in his late thirties. Fifteen years between the two of them and yet, when they were together, she couldn’t tell. Not that Grady wasn’t mature, just, he had little regard for what anyone thought of him.
He’d walked her back to her hotel and kissed her cheek, very gentlemanly, but God, she had wanted to drag him into her bed and fuck him senseless. The Google search hadn’t revealed any girlfriends or lovers, but who knew? She read how he’d lost one girlfriend to his brother Kit; a beautiful, dark-haired woman called Asia. Flori felt inadequate as she looked at the lawyer’s photograph. Damn, she thought, absentmindedly scrunching her own messy hair up into a bun and fixing it with a pencil. Brilliant, smart, and beautiful. “The golden trifecta,” she thought to herself now, as she walked to the auction place.
Grady had called—he was supposed to meet her before, but had gotten a last-minute commitment he couldn’t break.
“I’ll make it up to you after the sale,” he promised, and she couldn’t help fantasizing about what that might entail.
After I beat him out for the Kahlo, he walks me out, his hand on the small of my back, shaking his head ruefully. Another one bites the dust, he says. As we walk back towards the Quarter, he takes my hand, then suddenly pulls me into a side street. I’m sorry, he says; I can’t wait another minute, and he kisses me. God, that kiss, his mouth soft and yet so passionate, his hands on my body, sliding under my skirt, into my panties. Please, I gasp, and he takes me there, in the evening streets, his cock so big, so hard inside of me and …
“Wake it up, lady.” A grumpy man pushed past her into the sale room. She stuck her tongue out at him and followed him in. She glanced around. No Grady yet. The room began to fill, so she grabbed a seat quickly. There were so many people now that she couldn’t see through the crowd to find him. Cursing under her breath, she turned her attention back to the sale. Her phone vibrated.
You there?
She sighed. Yes.
Mallory there?
Flori closed her eyes for a beat, then typed, No. She waited.
If he doesn’t show, don’t bid on anything.
Even though she had almost expected that answer, she was still shocked. So it was to do with Grady. Hell, what had she gotten herself in the middle of?
Okay.
Let me know what happens.
She turned her phone off and decided to block everything from her mind.
The Kahlo was the fourth lot to be sold. Flori heard a few bids shouted, but none of them were Grady … suddenly it was imperative she get it for him.
“Twenty-five!” All heads turned towards her, and her cheeks flamed red. The auctioneer took it in his stride and continued. The bidding got up to thirty-three million dollars.
“Thirty-four.”
Grady. She turned and looked for him and finally spotted him looking straight at her, grinning, challenging her to top his bid. Everyone else had dropped out. Flori smiled as the auctioneer raised his eyebrows at her.
“I have thirty-four … Miss?”
Her smile widening, she turned back to the auctioneer and shook her head. “No.” Her voice was true and clear as she glimpsed at Grady, to see him looking shocked. She laughed a little.
“At thirty-three million dollars … going once … twice … sold! Congratulations, Mr. Mallory.”
Flori giggled as Grady looked astonished—and grateful. He mouthed to her “Why?” and she merely shrugged and smiled.
He caught up with her finally as the crowd dissipated and hugged her. God, those thick arms around her … “You little dreamboat,” he said. “I’m still in shock. How … why …?”
Flori swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Because you deserve it. I wish it had been the Rothko.”
He looked down at her, lost for words and their gazes locked. Her heartbeat quickened.
“Grady?”
They both turned at the sound of her voice. Flori’s stomach dropped to the floor. Asia Flynn stood behind Grady. He took her hand. “God, I’m sorry, As, I got carried away. Asia Flynn, meet Floriana Morgan.”
Flori shook the other woman’s hand and tried to return her warm smile, but her heart was cracking open. Asia smiled at her. “Grady has told me a lot about you; won’t you join us for dinner?”
Flori was about to decline, but Grady was having none of it. “Hell, yes, she will; I need to buy this girl some seriously expensive food.”
Flori grinned then. “Gold-plated caviar with diamond ice on top.”
“Foie grass made from the bird who laid the Golden Egg.”
She giggled. “Grapes handpicked by Bacchus himself.”
“At the very least. Come on, women; man feeds you now.” He pretended to be a caveman and Asia shot Flori an amused look, rolling her eyes. Damn it; don’t make me like you, Flori thought.
Half an hour later, it was a done deal. Asia Flynn was lovely, Flori had to admit. She’d been afraid she might feel like the third wheel, but they were both so inclusive, so welcoming, that Flori had relaxed.
“I feel I might be able to get used to this far too easily.” She gestured around the French restaurant, the beautiful layout and atmosphere a reflection of its surroundings. She’d passed on the escargot that Grady and Asia had tucked into so readily, and was quite happily working her way through the soft and fluffy bread, dipping it in garlic butter and swooning. At Grady’s recommendation, she’d ordered the Cote de Boeuf. When the food was brought out, she suddenly understood why Grady and Asia were grinning. It was huge, at least a thirty-two-ounce hunk of prime beef.
“It’s bigger than my head,” she said weakly, prompting loud laughter from the others. Grady wiped his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I had to. But, I swear, it’s utterly delicious and,” he leaned forward to whisper, “they do doggy bags.”
She boinked him on the head with her fork. “I’ll put you in a doggy bag, Mallory.”
He sat back and grinned. “Eat up.”
It was out of this world; Flori actually moaned with delight as she took her first bite.
“Good?” Asia grinned at her. Flori was glad to see the other woman hadn’t ordered salad or something ‘light’ but instead had a demi-poulet on her plate that she was enthusiastically tucking into.
“So good,” Flori replied, “Please, have some.”
/>
Asia tried it and swooned. “God, yes. Next time, we’ll share one, yes?”
Flori smiled. “Deal.”
Afterward, they walked Flori back to her hotel, and it was only then that she felt the pang of sadness as Grady and Asia walked hand in hand back to their hotel and the room they were obviously sharing. Flori waited until they’d turned a corner, then sat down on the stone steps, breathing in the night air. She felt so conflicted; Asia Flynn was so lovely, so kind and warm, and yet … the thought of Grady making love to her was making Flori feel ill. Sick, actually, sick with jealousy. She breathed in a few lungfuls of the cool night air. I’ll get over it, she said to herself, I will. It’s just a crush.
But she’d deliberately defied her employer. If he ever found out …
“Bye bye college,” she said. No, to hell with that, friendship was more important. Grady had wanted that Kahlo, and her boss would have to get over it. If he fired her, so be it. She’d find the money someplace else.
Decided, she got up and went up to her hotel room. She was pulling off her scarf when suddenly she gasped and turned. The man she called her boss was sitting on her bed. He stood, his face creased with rage.
“You damn little traitor. I saw you with them.”
Flori backed up. “What?” Her knees started to tremble. God, he knows …
Gregor Fisk smiled without humor. “I gave you everything you wanted. All you had to do was beat out Mallory for those paintings.”
“I did,” she said, “every time he was at a sale, I beat him out. The paintings are yours.” Even to her own ears, the lie was pathetic. She’d backed up, so the door was behind her, her hand on the handle, ready to yank it open.
She tried but Gregor slammed his body into her, banging the door closed. He reached over and locked it. Flori was terrified and could feel his hot, sour breath on her face. To her horror, he pulled a knife out from his pocket. Oh God, no … Gregor smiled.
“Oh, no … I’m not done with you yet, girl ...”
And for the next few minutes, Flori could think of only two words.
Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 39