Torrid - Book One

by Jayne Blue

  “Jack has been the Golden Boy since forever. I guarantee you if he stood up and told that group that he was going to run for Jeffries’s seat instead of me, they would have all applauded him and started throwing cash at him.”

  “Seth,” I said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder and for once, he let me. “You’re Miranda’s son, not Jack. The people in this house tonight are loyal to her, aren’t they?”

  “They’re loyal to whoever they think can advance their own careers. I know what they think. They think I couldn’t get a job without her. They think I can’t make it without her.”

  I was at the same party tonight. At no time did I hear or sense anyone in that room making that judgment. I knew this was Seth’s insecurity talking. This was Miranda’s fault but not in the way he thought. I had only seen the dynamic between the two of them for a few months but it was enough. Miranda took care of everything for Seth to the point of him barely being able to do anything without her. In that way, she had taken something valuable away from him, too. When I ran my hand over the curve of his head, I had great empathy for what he must feel. She had taken so much from me, too.

  Seth turned to me and pulled me into his arms so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe. “Promise me you’ll stay with me,” he said into my hair. “Promise me you’ll help me.”

  “Seth ... I ....”

  He fumbled with the front of my dress, pulling at the thin straps until one of them snapped. “God,” he said, driving me backwards on the bed. “I need you so much.”

  He was on top of me, pulling at my nipple with rough fingers until it hurt. Not now. I couldn’t be with him now. Not after what I’d done.

  Seth’s lips were hot at my throat. He threw a leg over me, pinning me beneath him and he dragged the front of my dress down.

  “I can’t breathe,” I gasped. And I couldn’t. Seth was wild and needy, meaning to use me to fuck away the ghost of his mother and his self-doubt.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “They’re all jealous. Every one of them wants to stick their shriveled-up dicks in you and I’m the only who gets to. You know I overheard that grease ball George Pagano actually saying that to the mayor?”

  “Seth.” He was nearly crushing me under him. His hands went to my hips. If he meant to drag my dress up, the effects of the alcohol seemed to reach their peak. He stilled on top of me, his breathing coming labored and heavy. Seth snored.

  I froze, afraid to move, afraid to wake him. I waited one minute. Two. Five minutes went by and by the steady heave of his chest, I knew Seth wasn’t going to wake up for hours. With great effort, I managed to roll him off me and I slid out from under him.

  Seth ended up passed out fully clothed and face down in the center of the bed. I stood and watched him. Miranda had wrecked him in so many ways. He could recover. If he could find a way to stand on his own two feet without her. I could help him ... maybe. But I had my own wounds, my own scores to settle first.

  I slid his shoes off but couldn’t move him even an inch. So I left him there and found a place to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms across the hall.

  It was just as well because I needed space. I needed to think. I’d come so far but sometimes it got harder and harder to remember who the enemies still were. I was tired. So tired. And though I’d just left the man I was supposed to marry, it was Jack who invaded my thoughts.

  I still felt his touch on my skin. It was careless, dangerous. What was I thinking? He had been so close, smelled so good and looked like delicious sin. And it had been raw and real, so much so that my legs still trembled from holding them around his waist for so long. I would be sore tomorrow because of it and a part of me relished it. Still, my heart pounded in my chest as the magnitude of what I had just risked started to sink in.

  I looked at the clock on the wall. It was past midnight here, but just past ten back home.

  Home.

  I didn’t even know where that was anymore. My cell phone sat on the bed next to me and I tapped my fingers on the screen. I had been so reckless tonight already, what was one more thing?

  I picked up my phone and tapped in the number. It rang four times and my heart sank just a little until I heard a click just before the fifth ring.

  “Button?” said the gravelly voice on the other end. My eyes filled with tears that I tried to stave off, putting a hand to my forehead.

  “Hey, Uncle Charlie!” I plastered on a fake smile, hoping it would make my voice sound brighter, hide the shakiness I felt.

  “You okay?” he said. “You sound a little funny.”

  I wiped the tears away. I couldn’t let him worry. It would destroy me.

  “I’m great,” I said. “Just a little tired. I’m on the east coast, remember? It’s after midnight.”

  “Are you getting enough sleep, Button?” he said.

  “Probably not,” I smiled.

  “I’m glad you called. We’ve been thinking about you. How’s school going?”

  I pressed my fingers over my eyes, hoping the distance and time zones would help cover what he would be able to read in an instant if we were face to face.

  “It’s good,” I said. “I’ve just got a few more weeks until exams but I think I’m doing all right.”

  “Don’t you know?” Uncle Charlie asked. “Don’t your professors tell you if you’re doing your homework right?”

  I laughed softly into the phone. “Law School doesn’t work like that, Uncle Charlie. You take one big exam at the end of the term and it’s all graded on a curve.”

  “Hmm.” In my mind, I could see him shake his great head of long, wiry curls and scratch his beard. “So you just have to hope about half of ’em are dumber then you, eh?”

  “Pretty much,” I said.

  “Then you’re gonna ace that bitch, Button. I’m gonna get to tell all these assholes out here that our Button is at the top of her class at Cornell ... hear that, you motherfuckers?!” He shouted the last bit so I knew he must have taken the phone down to the bar and had an audience. Sure enough, I heard a distant round of whoops and hollers with a smattering of “fuck yous” through the other end of the phone. Fat tears finally fell down my cheeks.

  “It’s good to hear your voice, Uncle Charlie,” I said. I needed to end the call and fast. I was crying full on now and knew my voice was shaky. I was betting on the commotion in the background to drown out most of what I said.

  “Shut yer holes!” Charlie was yelling so I knew I was safe. I took a breath and collected myself.

  “I should probably let you go,” I said. The smile on my face was genuine when I said it. I’d taken a huge risk calling, but his familiar voice and the love that went with it fueled me.

  “When do you think you can come down for a visit?” His voice was hopeful.

  “It might be a while,” I said. “Like I said, exams are in a few weeks and after that, I’ve got a line on a summer internship in New York that I might get. If I do, I’m going to have to say yes. It would be a really great opportunity and they rarely offer it to first years so ...”

  “I get it. I get it,” Uncle Charlie said. “You do what you gotta do. I’m just glad you called. You know how proud I am of you. We all are.”

  “I know,” I said. “And I miss you so much. I promise, I’ll get home as soon as I can. Maybe just before the fall term.”

  “Aghhh. That’s such a long way off. But whatever you need, Button. You know that. Don’t you worry about me.”

  “I’ll try not to,” I said. “You just make sure you don’t give me a reason to. How’s your diet?”

  “Argghh.” Uncle Charlie sounded just like an old pirate. In a lot of ways, that’s exactly what he was.

  “I mean it,” I said with genuine worry. Plus, I was glad for a reason to take the focus off of me. “What about your blood pressure medication? How are the new pills working out?”

  “Fine. They make me piss every five minutes, just like an old lady, but the doc says my numbers are better
.”

  “Good,” I said. “You just keep taking them, okay? I want you around when I come visit later this year.”

  “You make me a promise on that and I’ll make you a promise about those fucking pills.”

  “That’s a deal, Uncle Charlie,” I said, wishing I could reach through the phone and let him envelope me in one of his great bear hugs.

  “All right, Button,” he said. “It’s gettin’ late. You get some sleep now. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I love you,” I said.

  “I love you too.”

  The weight of one more layer of lies felt heavy against my heart as I clicked off the phone and tossed it on the bed next to me.

  Chapter Eight

  Jack

  He was pushing eighty, half blind, and filled with a half dozen beers, but Reed Burnett could still golf the shit out of Kemper Lakes. He put the rest of us to shame. Pure shame. I was glad to get the hell back to the clubhouse and dive into a plate of wings. I knew with at least that, I could perform better than old Reed. We grabbed a table near the great stone fireplace and ordered our first round of drinks. Being here with this group, I realized, was the first true thing I missed about being away from the Chicago area.

  “Brutal,” R.J. said as he ordered a draft beer.

  I put a finger up to the waitress. “Just bring us a pitcher.” She nodded and left.

  “Yeah,” R.J. said. “He pretty much lured us into his trap. Good thing ya didn’t bet holes like he wanted. He’s a bona fide hustler, my dad.” R.J. was Reed’s youngest son. He was the spitting image of his father as a younger man.

  The beer was cold and the wings were heaven.

  “So,” R.J. finally moved the conversation to shit I didn’t want to talk about. “You really going to stand up with Seth?”

  I threw down a masticated wing and wiped my hand on my napkin. “Is he really going to go through with marrying that girl?”

  Reed shrugged. “It really looks like it. It’s an odd match, that’s for sure. But Seth’s right that she makes him look good. With that conservative crowd, him having a wife ... any wife could be an asset.”

  “What do you really know about her?” I asked. I had to be careful. These men had known me since I was a kid or longer. We could spend years apart but it wouldn’t change the fact that we could smell each other’s bullshit a mile away.

  “Not a lot,” Reed answered. “She’s cagey anytime you try to ask her about herself. Anyone else pick up on that?”

  “I have,” R.J. said, smacking his lips. “I took her aside a little bit at Miranda’s Christmas party a couple of months ago. It was a few days after they announced the engagement. But we didn’t get very far into the conversation.”

  “And she didn’t have Miranda’s blessing, I take it,” I said, pouring myself another beer.

  “Nope,” R.J. continued. “But that’s not a big surprise. You know, I gotta say, this Tora looked like she was capable of going toe to toe with the great Miranda Manning. At least, what little I saw, she didn’t back down from her. I think that’s what turned Seth onto her; I mean, other than the obvious. Seth likes the pretty girls, but most of the ones he’d show up with were pretty vapid. Miranda chewed ’em up and spat them out.”

  “So you’re going to stay in town until after the wedding, then?” Reed asked. He was the sliest of them all and he looked right through me.

  “How big of a douche would I be if I told Seth no ... about being his best man, I mean,” I asked.

  “How much do you care?” R.J. asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. If my dad were alive ... I’d do it to keep the peace. But I haven’t even talked to Seth before this week in I don’t even know how long. I debated even coming back here for the funeral. I did because I knew I’d get a chance to see you assholes.”

  “I’m touched,” R.J. put a hand to his chest.

  “And,” I said, turning my attention back to Reed, “because like I told you the other day, I need to see everything settled with what’s left of my dad’s company. Any word on what’s happening with that?”

  Reed nodded and set his napkin on the table. “I’ve made us an appointment, actually. Miranda changed representation in the last couple of years. The Crane firm ended up handling the trust your father left. We go tomorrow if that works.”

  “Good,” I said. “I want to get the patent paperwork squared away before I leave town.”

  “You think Miranda actually left you anything?” R.J. asked.

  “No,” I said. “The software patents were my father’s. The terms of the trust as I understood it was they belong to the trust as long as Miranda was alive. Upon her death, they were supposed to revert to me. I don’t expect Miranda herself left me a fat red cent and there really isn’t anything of hers that I want. But ... she had some things that belonged to my mother. Jewelry, sentimental stuff. I would like to get that back. Seth’s been resistant.”

  “That whole thing has been fucked up forever,” R.J. said. “I’ve never seen someone so jealous of a dead woman before. Why didn’t your dad just give you your mother’s things when he was alive?”

  I downed the last of my second beer. “He didn’t want to give it up. He wanted to hold on to something of her. That’s what drove Miranda nuts. I think he meant to give it to me – or to my sister – if Jenny had lived. But ... when his mind started to go, he didn’t follow through. When I asked him about it, it upset him, so I let it go. I regret that now but what are you gonna do?”

  I wanted to change the subject badly. Talking about my mother’s things got my blood boiling and I didn’t want to ruin an otherwise perfect day with old friends.

  “Anyway,” I said. “Back to this Tora Blake.” I had to be careful. If I let on that I cared, these guys would press me as to why. I felt an odd sense of protectiveness and suspicion about Tora that they wouldn’t – that I didn’t – understand yet.

  “R.J., you think you could do some digging in a professional capacity?”

  R.J. smiled and nodded. “I wondered when you were going to get around to asking. Miranda already did, you know.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “She asked you?” This shocked me. R.J. ran his own private investigation firm, but Reed and R.J. were my “father’s people” as far as Miranda was concerned. They were loyal to my mother and that always pissed her off to no end. I would have thought she’d eat shit before asking R.J. to do her any favors.

  “Yeah,” R.J. said. “Shocked me too. But Miranda was nothing if not a pragmatist. She knew my firm’s the best around at what we do.”

  “What did you find out?” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I apparently failed.

  R.J. and Reed got the same twinkle in their eyes. “You planning on poking around that?” R.J. said.

  I punched him in the arm. “I’m curious, okay?”

  “The answer is nothing,” R.J. continued. “Miranda called me once and asked me if I’d consider taking on the job. I said I would and she said she’d be in touch. That was maybe three months ago and I didn’t hear from her again.”

  “Hmmm,” I said. “Well, do you think you’d be willing to start that job now? See what you can find out about Tora Blake? Who is she, what’s her background?”

  R.J. nodded. “If I get to take your money, Jack, you bet your ass. I’ll spare no expense.”

  “Great,” I said. “I’ll bet, asshole.”

  “You want the works?” R.J. asked. “Full background, tail, the whole bit?”

  I felt a little like a shit. I’d already fucked Tora ... was thinking about how much I wanted to again ... now I was willing to pry into her private life all the way.

  Damn straight I was. She was hiding something and I was determined to find out what it was.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I do. Whatever that means ... I want the works.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tora

  I was downstairs and dressed before Seth woke up the next morning. Miranda’s live
-in housekeeper didn’t know what to do with me.

  “Good morning, Mary,” I said to the housekeeper in as bright a voice as I could muster. She was plump, fiftyish, and wore her silver hair cropped short. Last night, she had dressed her role in a black dress with a white collar. It seemed silly to me ... as though Miranda had watched one too many episodes of Downton Abbey. Today, though, Mary Barlow chose dress pants and a polyester blouse.

  Mary towered over me, she had to be close to six feet. Even without the height differential, she looked down on me. Her boss was in the ground – or, more accurately, a marble drawer – but it seemed she still took her cues from Miranda.

  “Do you want me to get Mrs. Walters to set out some breakfast?” Translation: when are you getting the fuck out of here?

  “She doesn’t need to go to any trouble,” I said. “Seth is still sleeping and I’m not much of a breakfast person. We can fend for ourselves. In fact, why don’t the two of you take the day off?” Translation: Seth signs your pay checks now, so back off, bitch.

  “We’ll keep our hours, Ms. Blake,” she said. She didn’t wait for me to respond but turned on her heel and walked back toward the stairs. My guess was she would try to make as much of a racket near Seth’s door as possible to wake him up.

  Fine.

  I walked through the great marble foyer and wound up back in the living room. The smell of cigar smoke still lingered from last night. A few of Seth’s guests struck up a card game and drew him into it. It had kept him occupied for a couple of hours. If it hadn’t ... if he had wandered off to find me ...

  What had I been thinking? Tangling with Jack ... no ... I could lie to everyone around me, the minute I started lying to myself I’d be in trouble ... fucking Jack was a mistake on every level. What if we’d been caught? What if Jack decided to brag about it? Well, the former wasn’t a risk anymore but what about the latter? I barely knew him, but something about Jack made me believe that kissing and telling wasn’t in his nature. We had both made our choice, but there was no denying I was the one who initiated it. I’d been so careful up until now, what had made me so reckless last night?