The Deal Breaker

by Cat Carmine

  Suddenly she sits up straight.

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “Okay, phew. I thought I was late for work.” She collapses back down onto the pillow.

  I chuckle. “No, plenty of time. I can even drive you.”

  “Good. I have a full day today. As you might know, I have a very demanding client who expects a presentation in a few days.”

  She’s grinning playfully and I shake my head.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Though I do know you have a very demanding man in bed with you, and at least another half hour before either of us has to be up and functional.”

  “Hmm,” she says thoughtfully. “I wonder what we could do with all that time?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe we could violate the terms of our agreement again.”

  She rolls over on top of me, so that suddenly there’s nothing between us but heat.

  “I’ve never been one to go back on an agreement before,” she says. “But maybe this is one deal worth breaking.”

  She starts moving then, rubbing her wet pussy over the hardness of my shaft. Her soft curvy body moves over me, her breasts heaving lightly over my chest, her hair tumbling down around both of us. I press my hand to her cheek as she moves, as she takes her pleasure from me. I gesture to the nightstand and she reaches over to get a condom. Even though I want to spend hours and hours — lifetimes, really — pleasuring her in every way imaginable, this morning we’re both hungry for the grinding satisfaction of a quick fuck.

  Rori wastes no time sliding the condom on my pulsing cock, and then straddles my thighs again. She eases me past her opening and then sinks down, letting out a blissful groan that thrills me more than anything else. Watching her get off on my cock is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever experienced. My balls are already starting to churn and I have to take a few deep breaths to slow myself down.

  But watching Rori grind above me makes that hard as hell. She moves slowly up and down, fingering her clit while she bucks against me. I grab her hips and meet her rhythm, rocking with her. Her lips part and the softest of whimpers falls from her lips, her breath short and sharp.

  “Oh God, Wes, you feel so fucking good.”

  I groan. “Keep doing that, Rori. Keep fucking yourself on my dick. Use me.”

  She whimpers again but bucks her hips harder against me, grinding her clit against my pubic bone. Her tits bob up and down, her rosy nipples pointing straight at me. I flick my thumb across one and she mewls, then lowers her chest, aiming the pert little bud straight at my mouth. I happily oblige and she groans again.

  Her hips buck harder and I can feel her pussy starting to tighten and clench around me as she crests closer and closer to a climax.

  “That’s it, beautiful,” I moan. “Come all over me.”

  She lets go then, and it’s fucking glorious to see. Her skin blooms bright red and her lips part in the sweetest little oh and her whole body trembles on top of me. I let go at that moment too, everything rushing out of me in powerful spurts.

  I pull her down on top of me and hug her to my chest, even though we’re both covered in sweat. Her skin against mine is warm and familiar, and even with the scent of sex in the air, I can still smell the honey from her hair, the faint sweetness that is unmistakably Rori.

  “I need a shower,” she murmurs against my chest. Her breath is warm on my skin.

  “Me too.”

  “Hmm,” she says, drumming her fingers against the muscles of my stomach. “I wonder what we should do about that.”

  Later, after we’ve showered and fucked and then showered again, we make it downstairs and into my car. I drop Rori off at her office as promised.

  “At least I’m wearing a different outfit than I was yesterday at work,” she jokes. “Although I think Kyla might wonder why I’m wearing an actual dress to the office instead of my usual yoga pants.”

  “I think you should wear dresses more often, personally.”

  “You would.”

  “Easier access.”

  “Yeah, I got the joke,” she grins.

  “All right, smart ass,” I say, as I pull up in front of the U-Coin Laundromat. “Have a good day at work.”

  I lean over and kiss her. Rori’s cheeks pink up, and then she gives me a funny look and hops out of the car. A second later she disappears into her building.

  I sit there for a minute, wondering why I just did that. Have a good day? A kiss on the cheek? That’s couple behavior. Rori and I aren’t a couple. We’re just … well, I don’t know what we are, but we’re not that. Hanging out with her is fun, and sleeping with her was fucking amazing, but I can’t afford to let myself get too invested. There’s too much distance between us for that, too many things Rori still doesn’t know about me. Too many things that would hurt her if she knew the truth.

  And hurting Rori is literally the last thing I want to do. I make a vow to reign in this behavior. I’m not saying I need a fucking napkin contract to keep my feelings in check, but a little restraint right now might not be a bad idea.

  That night I meet Tyler out at the Kinsmen Club again. The club is less busy tonight, maybe because it’s a Tuesday or maybe because the Knicks are playing. I spot Tyler right away, nursing a beer at the bar. I slide onto the stool next to him.

  “Hey, man.”

  “Hey.” He brightens as soon as he sees me, and we clasp hands briefly. I signal the bartender to bring me a beer the same as Ty’s.

  “No Rori tonight?” he asks. I can hear a note of teasing already building in his voice.

  I shake my head and try to keep my tone light. “Nah. We’re just friends. She works for me.”

  “Really? Just friends, huh?“ He raises his eyebrows in a way that says he totally doesn’t buy that.

  “Yes, really.” I nod at the bartender as he slides an amber bottle in front of me.

  “It didn’t look like that the other day.”

  “Well, I don’t know what it looked like, but it wasn’t that.”

  I focus on my beer while Tyler laughs silently to himself. We’ve been friends long enough that I doubt I’m fooling him, but I have to at least keep up appearances. After all, Rori and I had a deal. And after the silly way I acted this morning when I dropped her off, I’m determined to make sure any and all feelings are safely kept in check.

  “By the way, how’s Amber?”

  Tyler has the decency to look chagrined. “You know, that wasn’t ... a thing... either.”

  “Isn’t it funny how that works?”

  He sips his beer, grinning. “Yeah, but mine is a different kind of non-thing than yours is. In my case, the woman can barely string a sentence together. So there’s that.”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it, she did seem a bit ... non-verbal.”

  He chuckles. “Luckily, I wasn’t dating her for her verbal skills.”

  I laugh and roll my eyes at the same time. Typical Tyler. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s had a different girl on his arm nearly every week. Sometimes more frequently. He’s a charming guy, I’ll give him that, and he has no problem finding someone for a night or two. He likes it that way.

  Me, I’ve never been one for casual relationships. Or relationships of any kind really. Getting close to people means letting them know the real me, and there are things I prefer to keep close to the chest.

  “How are things with your dad?” I ask, to change the subject.

  But Tyler grimaces. “About the same.”

  “Which is?”

  “He thinks I’m an irresponsible asshole unworthy of the Grant name.”

  “Right.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah. Good times. I think he’s just glad he has my sister. At least that way the company will fall into good hands when he’s gone.”

  “God, I haven’t seen Lacy in years. How’s she doing?”

  “Great. Daddy’s little girl, as always.”

  “Does that make you the momm
a’s boy?”

  “Fuck off.” He grins. He spots someone over my shoulder and gives a wave. “Logan. Hey. Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

  I turn in my seat and see a guy coming towards us. He’s probably the same age as Tyler and I, but he’s got a more stoic air to him. Full suit. Expensive watch glinting under the dim bar lights. The smell of old money.

  “Logan Cartwright, this is my friend Wes Lake. Wes is the co-founder of GoldLake Developments.”

  “That right?” He extends his hand and I grasp it firmly. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got a killer handshake. I run the name Logan Cartwright through my mind, trying to remember where I know it from.

  “GoldLake,” he continues. “You guys are the ones looking at that public land on the Lower East Side, right?”

  “Word gets around.” I grin.

  “It’s a risky project.”

  “Yup.”

  “High reward.”

  I grin. “That’s the idea.”

  He nods solemnly. “Good stuff. I’ll be interested to hear how it goes.”

  “Get in touch any time.” I hand him my card. I still haven’t quite figured out who he is, but it’s not hard to deduce that if he’s here and dressed like that, he comes from money.

  He nods, and then hands me a card of his own. I shove it into my breast pocket without looking at it — don’t want to be too obvious about the fact that I have no clue who he is — as he shakes hands with Tyler, then heads off in the direction he was going before Ty stopped him.

  “The reaction’s been like that since I first brought you here,” Tyler says now, his voice low. “People are really interested in this new project GoldLake’s taking on. Half the people here have been desperate to get their hands on public land, and everyone’s watching to see how it goes for you. You’re kind of paving the way. Charting the course, if you will.”

  I shrug. I guess what he says is true, but somehow the weight of all the expectations of everyone here suddenly feels heavy. Especially because it reminds me of Rori, and what she’s going to think when all of this becomes public. “It’s just business.”

  “You’re a fucking pioneer, buddy. People are watching to see if you’re going to sink or swim.”

  “Right.” I take a long swallow of my beer, not wanting to think about what it might mean if I sink.

  But Tyler seems oblivious to my discomfort. “I’m telling you, if you and Levi pull this deal off, I think you’ll have no problem securing a membership here. You’ve already made a good impression on people here. If they see you as someone they want to know, then you’re in. Old money or not.“

  “Great. That’s great. Thanks Ty.”

  He takes a sip of his beer and then chuckles. “Now be honest: you had no fucking clue who that guy was, did you?”

  That makes me laugh. I shrug. “Yeah, sorry, no. The name’s familiar but ...”

  “I’ll give you a hint: the man could cut glass.”

  I wrinkle my brow, and then sit up straight. “Cartwright Diamonds.” Only one of the biggest, most historic businesses in the city. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given the type of clientele the Kinsmen Club attracts, but somehow knowing the heir to the Cartwright Diamond fortune just gave me his card is still one of those moments that hits me in the gut and reminds me of how far I’ve come from where I used to be.

  Ten years ago, I was just a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, trying to scrabble up a ladder that seemed to be greased with bad luck and poor choices. Now I’m sitting in one of the most prestigious country clubs in the entire fucking nation, shaking hands with billionaires and eking my way into their midst.

  I should be ecstatic. This is what I’ve always wanted, ever since I got to Harvard and got my first taste of how the other half lived.

  So why do I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach? Why is the only thing I can picture the look on Rori’s face when she finds out why we hired Marigold in the first place?

  Twenty-Two

  “Okay, now tell me everything,” I gush. “What do you really think about working for GoldLake? Do you love it? Are they being nice to you? Are you getting to work on any exciting projects?”

  Maria laughs, covering her mouth when she does. “Rori, it’s still my first day. The answer to all your questions is: I have no idea yet!”

  “Sorry,” I grin. “I’m just so excited for you.”

  Maria and I are at Fran’s Diner, the same place Wes and I came when we first hatched our contract. I had offered to take her out for lunch for her first day at GoldLake, partly to celebrate and partly as a thank-you. She’d already agreed to help Kyla and I out with the video we wanted to pitch for our marketing campaign. We’d spent the weekend with her and a videographer friend of Kyla’s, getting some b-roll of Maria at home, at the community center garden, and interacting with her adorable son Bruno.

  It was a little weird, considering she hadn’t even started at GoldLake by that point, but that’s why we were waiting till later this week to film the actual interview. I’m hoping that filming it early will mean she’ll give us some honest first impressions — but either way, this is just a rough take for the presentation with Wes. We can always redo the interview once she’s had more time to settle in.

  Now Maria grins, sipping her coffee. Her full lips are painted in a bright red, and with her white blouse, grey blazer and skirt, and neatly knotted hair, she looks like a completely different person from when I first met her, digging in the dirt at the Elmwood Gables Community Garden.

  “Honestly, I think it’s going to be great,” she says. “I mean, it’s a lot to take in and I’m a little bit overwhelmed. But I think I’m handling it okay.”

  “I have no doubt you are.” I smile at her. The more time I spend with Maria, the more I like her. She’s warm and funny and smart, and I can’t even fathom the kind of inner strength she must have, with everything she’s been through. I have a melt-down if the corner bodega is out of Diet Coke, and this woman’s been through hell and back. Yet watching her with her son, especially as he struggled with his homework and she patiently sat down and tried to work through the math problems with him, I see this kind of grace and calmness in her that I really admire.

  “Do you like your mentor?” I ask, sawing off a bite of pancakes. Breakfast for lunch — it’s totally a thing.

  “I think I’m going to love her. It’s so cool to be working under a woman who’s succeeding in project management. I worried that it would be all men there, but so far it’s a really nice and mixed bunch of people.”

  “That’s great.” I wonder briefly if that’s Wes’s influence. I think about what he told me that first night we went out and he pitched the project to me. He’d talked about his mother and the opportunities he wished she could have had. I wonder if that’s always influenced his hiring choices, even before this new dedicated program. The thought makes my insides flip, makes me feel like my stomach is smiling.

  “So, what cool projects are you going to be managing?”

  “None of my own yet,” she says shyly. “But I’m helping out with this project to add six levels of parking to a development out in Williamsburg.”

  “Parking?” I wrinkle my nose, laughing. “That doesn’t seem exciting.”

  “Oh, it is, though,” Maria beams. “There are so many moving pieces, so many deadlines and deliverables. I’m in Gantt chart heaven.”

  I laugh. “I wish I was that organized.”

  “But you run your own business!”

  “Yeah, but you should see the mess that is our office. And the file system on my computer ...” I pretend to shudder. “It would give you nightmares.”

  “I could help you whip that into shape,” she says confidently.

  “You’d need a whip for sure,” I joke. “I need to be disciplined.”

  “No, I’m serious. I could totally help you. Life is so much easier when you’re organized, and I owe you one to thank you for getting me this job.”<
br />
  “Oh, you don’t owe me anything,” I say, brushing off her comment. “It’s all Wes. This project was his idea. All I did was pass along your resume. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you what you think of Wes?”

  I admit that I’m curious to get her insights. My perspective on Wes is warped because of our history, but Maria might be more objective.

  But instead, she shakes her head. “I actually haven’t met him yet.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I guess he hasn’t had time to stop in and say hi yet. I know — I’ll ask him to have a coffee with you.”

  “Oh, really, Rori, it’s no big deal,” Maria protests, as if she’s afraid I’m going to get her in trouble. “Honestly.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he knows it’s my idea and you’re not having any problems or anything,” I assure her, when I see the nervous expression on her face.

  “I just don’t want to do anything to jeopardize this position.”

  “I know. Totally get it. I promise I’ll just suggest it. I’m sure he’d love to do it anyway. He’s very passionate about this project.”

  I actually hadn’t talked to Wes much since he dropped me off at my office late last week. We’d texted a few times, and he’d invited me out for dinner on Sunday, but Kyla and I have been so wrapped up in the pitch that I barely stopped moving all weekend. By the time the invitation came, I was practically comatose and had to turn him down. That didn’t stop me from spending the entire weekend thinking about him though.

  Maria and I finish our breakfasts and I settle up the bill. Just as we’re about to head out of the diner, the glass shelves behind the counter catch my eye. Specifically, the bright yellow of the most delicious-looking lemon meringue pie I’ve ever seen in my life. I think of Wes eyeing the pie last time we were here.

  I could bring him a piece, I think. Since I’m stopping over there anyway to meet with the HR director to get some statistics on their hiring program. It’s the neighborly thing to do, right? Not to mention that it would give me a good excuse to stop in and see him.