by Nikki Chase
I don’t know what it is about me and marriage, but bad luck seems to follow me around when it comes to matters of the heart. I should just swear off men forever; that would make my life so much simpler.
I’ve been married before, to a beautiful man named Gio. It was around three years ago.
We met at a cocktail bar in town, and he’d caught my eye from across the room as soon as I saw him. He was funny, charming, self-confident and assertive. Oh, and gorgeous as all hell.
It had been a whirlwind romance, and I’d fallen for him harder and faster than anyone I’d ever met. We were married within months, and it was only then that the cracks started to show.
Gio told me that he worked for the ‘family business’, but was always reluctant to let me actually visit. Naively, I always assumed it was a restaurant or something like that, but then one day he showed up beaten black and blue. He tried to pass it off as a random act of violence from a stranger, but I didn’t buy it.
So I did some research, and discovered that Gio’s family was one of the oldest and most notorious mob families in San Francisco.
I cursed myself for my stupidity and confronted him about it. He came clean but told me not to worry, that he would always shield me from that side of his life, that he didn’t want me to have anything to do with it, and that’s why he’d hidden it from me in the first place.
I believed him, which was probably the most stupid thing of all. Within weeks he was dead—killed in a gunfight in some alley behind a club. He died instantly from a bullet to the head.
I was absolutely devastated.
Luckily, we never brought any children into our fucked-up life, although there had been a miscarriage early on in our marriage.
It felt like the end of the world at the time, but it had been the one thing that allowed me to make a clean break from Gio’s family and all the baggage that that entailed. Had we had a child together, I would never have been able to escape. As it was, I’d cut ties, moved away, and tried to move on.
It wasn’t easy, though. I’d loved Gio fiercely, loved him in the way someone might love a bird with a broken wing laying on the sidewalk. I’d wanted to protect him, to remove him from the dangerous life that he led, but in the end, it had been impossible.
So I ran, regrouped, and tried to get my life back on track. Landing this new job had been the culmination of all that effort. The final step, the final piece of the puzzle.
And, of course, I’ve now fucked it all up. Over a man. Again.
Tears are running down my face now, and the kindly lawyer offers me a tissue. I take it gratefully and try to clean myself up a little.
“I know how you feel, sweetheart, but this kind of thing happens all the time. You wouldn’t believe some of the crazy stories I hear. We can get this done in no time at all, once this waiting period is up. It’ll be like it never happened, and you’ll never even have to tell anyone. It’ll be a clean slate, and you can move on with your life, just leave it all to me.”
I thank him and gather my things to leave, promising to return once the waiting period is up and I actually have some money to pay him.
I take the bus home, things weighing heavily on my mind. As an afterthought, I get off a stop early and go into a pharmacy.
My period still hasn’t started, and it’s normally so regular. I tell myself that I can’t be pregnant, not after one night. I can’t be that unlucky, surely?
It’s probably just the stress of recent events throwing my body out of whack. I spend five of my last ten dollars on a pregnancy test.
So, I get home, pee on the stick . . . and it’s positive.
Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
There’s another test in the box. I pace around my little apartment for a few minutes, as if that will somehow make any difference whatsoever, and try again.
Still positive.
I throw my head back and wail.
“Are you fucking serious right now? God, the universe, whoever is up there, can you just give me a goddamn break? Please?”
I remember what the lawyer said about a clean slate. So much for that now. I’ve got permanent marker on my slate now, in the form of a baby. A baby fathered by my husband, a man I don’t even know and can barely remember sleeping with.
I open the fridge and see a half-empty bottle of wine. I’m halfway through pouring a glass when I realize . . . I can’t drink. Grumbling, I tip the rest of the bottle down the sink.
I pace around for a few minutes more, my mind racing, and then pick up the phone. I should give Claire a call. She’s the only one with actual knowledge of the situation, the only one I can talk to.
A few rings, and she picks up.
“Hey, Tess, babe! How’s it going? Did you go see that lawyer yet? What did he say?”
I’m silent for a few moments, then I blurt it out. “I’m pregnant.”
“What?” A pause. An uncertain giggle. “You’re shitting me.”
I squeeze my temples, my tension headache not getting any better. “I can assure you that I am absolutely not shitting you. I’m the opposite of shitting you. Claire, what the hell am I going to do?”
She lets out a lengthy exhale. “Well, this is a bit of a pickle you’ve managed to get yourself into, isn’t it? Don’t you normally use protection when you’re banging someone you just met? I mean, I know he was technically your husband and all, but . . .”
“I mean, we both know I wasn’t making good decisions that night, so let’s just skip the whole protection lecture, okay? I heard enough of that in high school. At this point, let’s take it as an established fact that I was making terrible, awful decisions that night. And they’re coming back to bite me right in the ass.”
“Okay. Don’t freak out,” she says slowly. I get the feeling she’s trying to calm herself down instead of me. “Let’s run through your options. The marriage annulment is already in progress, right?”
I tell her what the lawyer said, and how I just need to wait a couple more weeks for the residency requirements here in Colorado before I can start the process.
“Okay. That’s good,” she says. “So that’s going to be dealt with. So now it’s just the baby.”
Just the baby. Claire’s talking as if it’s a detail barely worth mentioning. Oh, it’s not a big deal at all, ha-ha, it’s just the baby.
She pauses for a moment, and I know what she’s going to say.
“Have you thought about . . .” She trails off, not wanting to say the actual words.
“I can’t,” I say firmly. “No way. Not after last time, with Gio. I just can’t. Getting rid of the baby is absolutely not an option.”
“Are you sure, babe?” Claire’s voice is kind.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve only just found out, right? Maybe take a few days to think on it and make sure that’s what you want. If you really want to cut ties with Luke Alder forever . . .” Claire falls silent mid-sentence like she often does when a random thought strikes her. “What if he wants to be a part of the kid’s life?”
I consider her words. It’s not like the same thought hasn’t crossed my mind. “He doesn’t need to know about the baby. I can take care of it by myself and still have that clean break.”
Claire’s silent. I know she doesn’t agree with me, but she doesn’t want to upset me. Which is great. I don’t need a fight with my best friend on top of all my other problems.
“Look, Tess,” she eventually says, in her serious voice. “You really need to take some time to consider your options here. Don’t go rushing into anything rash, and don’t make up your mind without thinking things through.”
She’s right. I have time. Even if I disagree with what she thinks I should do, her reminder eases my anxiety somewhat.
“You know I’m always here for you, no matter what.” Claire doesn’t miss a beat before adding, “I can get Daddy to book you another flight out here if you need?”
“That’s really sweet of you,” I say, a smile playin
g on my lips because that was just a very Claire thing to say. Some things haven’t changed, even if I feel like my whole world has turned upside down.
“I know.”
“But I’m still planning on starting my new job next week. I can’t let this get in the way. I’ll just have to somehow deal with all of . . .” I can hear the fear and uncertainty in my own words, and my voice trails off.
“Listen, Tess,” she says, “I know it all seems so overwhelming at the moment, but you’ve got this. You’re strong, intelligent, and the most stubborn bitch I’ve ever met. I mean that in the nicest possible way.” She breaks off to giggle.
“Thanks . . . I think.” I laugh.
“Anyway,” she continues, “you can do this. Believe in yourself!”
“Okay, okay. Enough with the pep talk. You’re starting to sound like a motivational speaker.” Despite my protest, I’m smiling. Claire always manages to find a way to cheer me up. And now, somehow, it feels like I might be able to manage this after all. “I’ll sleep on it, and decide what to do tomorrow.”
We say our goodbyes, and I curl up on the couch with some tea. I switch the TV on, but I can’t concentrate.
Maybe this baby is what I need. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me that it’s time to get my shit together. If I can’t do that for me, maybe I can do it for my baby.
Luke
I’m trying to concentrate, but it’s like pulling teeth. From an alligator.
I stare off into the distance, images of that night in Vegas still playing through my mind.
It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of the same handful of questions swirling in my brain. Questions I can’t answer.
What’s Tessa doing? Where is she now? Why was she so adamant that we never see each other again?
From what I can tell, she had just as good of a time as I did. Sure, maybe we went a little too far with the wedding, but I have far more to lose than she does, and I’m not the one freaking out.
I sigh and stare out of the window. The views are amazing from up here. Not surprising, really. InFini’s headquartered in the tallest building in downtown Colorado.
My father built Alder Investments from nothing—a small one-man operation in a rented office across the street. But now look at it. One of the biggest corporations in the country with multi-billion dollar revenues and it’s still growing, acquiring household names like InFini.
And it’s mine now. Dad decided to retire earlier this year, handing over the reins of the company to me, along with all of the power, women, and influence that come with it.
I’d been looking forward to the day, sure that I was ready for the responsibility. Having spent years in Dad’s shadow, being the “Adler heir,” the crushing weight of expectation had almost been too much to bear at times.
But I’ve worked my ass off, and definitely taken nothing for granted. I’ve developed the skillset to take this role on, I’ve got the leaderships skills, and I’ve got the charisma to lead and deal with challengers and new acquisitions.
During my time as a manager in the corporation, I’d enjoyed the cutthroat nature of the business, the need to excel to beat out the competition. I’d thought that once Dad retired and handed the business over to me, that I’d be able to hone those skills further, to take the business to new heights in new markets.
But that dream is fast turning out to be nowhere near the reality.
I used to stay late in the office, bringing new investors on board, desperately seeking one last signatory to complete a deal, or buttering up a foreign CEO in a merger deal. Sure, it was stressful, but it was good, hard work that stretched me.
But now that I’m CEO? All of that shit is done for me. I sit and jerk off while other people do the hard work. I stare out of my penthouse office window while people come up and slap heavy folders on my desk. All they want from me is a signature.
Last week, we had the new InFini acquisition. I’d laid a lot of the groundwork for that deal before Dad had retired. I knew the ins and outs, the financials, everything. So when the final deal was placed before me, I started reading through it, checking it over, making sure that everything I worked towards had gotten into the final agreement.
The pencil pusher who brought it to me started shuffling, clearly uncomfortable.
I looked up at him, eyebrow cocked. “Something the matter, Welby?”
He gulped, and tugged at his collar. “Well, Sir, it’s just that the accountants want this contract ASAP so they can put the financial wheels in motion. They, uh . . . they specifically said that any delay is unacceptable.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. It was a struggle to get my anger in check. “Well, to be honest, I don’t give a fuck what they said, Welby. I’m the one signing off on this fucking deal. So I’ll be reading every word of this before I sign a damn thing. The accountants are just going to have to wait. Tell them to come talk to me if they have a problem with that.”
The poor guy just nodded, looking miserable.
And of course, everything had been as it should. The deal was just as I’d worked it—an expensive acquisition in the hi-tech sector that would pay off handsomely in the future.
I eventually signed the damn thing, poor Welby looking grateful as he scurried off towards the finance department.
But it seemed so hollow, somehow. That was the last deal I personally had any hand in.
Now, I’m just there for my signature, and my looks. All I have to do is sign the documents, and sometimes talk to a camera.
So yeah, it’s fair to say this game is starting to lose it’s shine for me. I long for the old days.
Brock is sitting beside me, and I feel the sharp nudge of his elbow in my side.
“Wake the hell up,” he hisses. “Two o’clock, question about margins.”
I glance over blearily - the entire boardroom is staring at me expectantly.
Great.
“Mr Alder, it’s important that you are engaged in this process. We need to show the board and your competitors that you are serious about making these aggressive acquisitions. There is some concern that now your father is gone, the company may lose some of its focus.”
“I understand,” I say through gritted teeth. “The margins look healthy. There is some concern for the longer term, five or ten years, say, but we can fix those issues once we complete the deal. I’m confident we can make good on our investment.”
There are murmurs of assent, and most of the people present look placated. I fold my arms and sit back, letting my thoughts start to wander again. It’s ridiculous, really—we’re talking about a multi-billion dollar deal here, but all I can think about is Tessa.
I cast my mind back to that night in the desert. I’d felt alive for the first time in forever.
“How much have you had to drink?” I asked.
She looked over at me and grinned with one raised eyebrow.
“Enough to shed my inhibitions, but not enough that you need to worry about taking advantage of me,” she replied, her voice low and husky.
I frowned. “And why should I have to worry about that?”
“Because,” she said, grabbing my tie and pulling me close, “we’re about to drive out into the desert and do something naughty.”
The way she kissed me left no doubt whatsoever that she meant what she said.
My eyes widened, and I tried to think of something clever to say. My brain wasn’t working, though; all the blood was being used . . . elsewhere in my body. Somehow, I managed to croak, “Whatever you say.”
I put my Maserati in gear, pulled off the road, and darted out across the desert sands. It was probably doing my very expensive car no good, damaging the paintwork and the suspension, but I didn’t care.
The roof was down, and Tess stood up and laughed at the moon, in that same carefree way of hers that I’d already started to love.
She looked down at me with shining eyes, and then glanced down at my crotch. I was rock hard just from having kissed her
and the anticipation of . . . doing other things to her.
Tess grinned at me. “What’s this you’ve got here?”
She placed a hand over my engorged cock and started to rub me through my pants. I groaned, leaning back in the seat a little, struggling to concentrate on where I was driving as she massaged me, leaning over and biting one of my nipples too. My eyes widened in shock—no girl had ever done that to me before, but holy fuck it felt good.
We swerved across the desert until I was finally forced to stop. I just couldn’t take it any longer.
We were in the absolute middle of nowhere, miles from the main road. Our only company was the full moon and a few cacti.
Tess climbed out of the car and wandered around to the hood, pulling her dress off as she goes. I quickly followed, tugging down my pants.
She eyed me hungrily as I picked her up by her beautiful ass, then she wrapped her legs around my waist. She was only wearing her bra and panties, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“Fuck me here, under the stars,” she whispered hoarsely in my ear.
I didn’t need telling twice. I lowered her onto the hood, still warm from the drive, and stripped her last remaining clothes off in a frenzy.
She lay there naked, her legs spread, her pussy slick and gleaming in the moonlight. I yanked off my boxers and kneeled in front of her, starting at her beautiful pink nipples—nibbling, sucking, biting. She moaned and arched her back, urging me on.
I kissed my way down her body. I was trying to be gentle and tender, take it slow, but I needed her so badly I just couldn’t. I devoured her, my lips everywhere, her hands grabbing handfuls of my hair as she gasped and moaned, telling me exactly how good it felt.
And then finally I reached her pussy. Her wet, eager slit. I slid my tongue down onto her most intimate place. Her clit was engorged with desire, and when I started to tease her with my tongue she came alive, screaming her desire out into the night.
My cock jumped at the sound and I didn’t think I could get more aroused, but then she writhed her delicious little body on the hood, arching her back and throwing her head back. She was an irresistible temptress.