“Exactly. My right. I know he’s not perfect, but I love my job. I love what I do, and I think it’s important. Let him get off on thinking we’re his slaves. I know I’m not.”
“Classic abusive rationalization.”
“You don’t know anything about it. About me,” she corrected herself. Maybe he did know about the other.
“I know you are stalled on your painting. I know you let some other man trample into your uterus without taking responsibility after.”
“That’s enough. I make my own decisions. I do. Bad or good, they’re mine. My right.” She bit her lip. Why did she feel like crying? Because his face was softening, empathetic. Pitying.
“And my rights to free expression? What about those?”
“Fine. You’ve had your say.”
“But you don’t have to listen.”
“But I have to act the way I see fit.” Which meant leaving him. “I have to go back to work. Now.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“I think it’s necessary. I think it’s important for me to do it.”
“Then go.” His mouth was flat, disappointed in her. Her anger was fading as the worries about returning to work started to rise. She refused to think about why thoughts of work always made her heart stutter faster.
“Fine.” She turned, trying to calculate how long they had been gone and how fast she could get back. A beautiful blond teenager quickly stepped out of her way, past her.
“Beau Kurck?” She was breathless. “I knew it! You look great. Would you take a photo with me? I love your penguins.”
May saw his face slip into the mask he wore when she first saw him in the airport, firm and commanding. But he didn’t growl at the groveling girl, even though he’d just told May he didn’t approve of groveling.
The girl didn’t miss a beat. Handing her phone to May, she said, “Would you? Waist-up, please.”
Feeling like the always-helpful Asian-American girl, May dutifully composed the photo, waist up, and took two shots. The girl’s smile was well-practiced, but Beau’s lips were too mobile.
She handed the phone back, and the girl immediately ignored both of them as she clicked through the images and typed busily with her thumbs.
“May!” He caught up with her in one step. “I forgot to ask. With flavors or not?”
Her mind was as blank as her face.
He looked toward the girl, and lowered his voice. “Condoms.”
She felt slugged by a Nerf bat. “You still want me to, you know…”
“You think because we argue I don’t want you anymore?”
Well, yes, she had. “Pretty dumb?”
“Unobservant, perhaps.” He smiled. “See you after work?”
She shouldn’t feel so girlishly grateful. But she did.
“Deal.”
****
Sadie, outside the foundation’s building, spotted her a quarter-block away. She click-clacked in her flash pumps toward her.
“Where is he?”
“Cooling off. How’s your man?”
“Bewildered. He thinks Kurck is a flake.”
“What do you think?”
Sadie looked at her a moment. “He’s worried about you. Did you sleep with him?”
May still had some anger inside her, and it appeared. “You told me to do whatever was necessary.”
“Bullshit.” Sadie looked around, as if anyone on a summer street would care if she swore. May wished it was one of those one-hundred-degree days, so Sadie’s perfect hair would lose its Republican Wife flip.
“He looked around the office and said we all looked like starved zombies. I said I loved my job. He thinks I’m crazy.”
“You are crazy. Penguins?”
“It’s important.”
“It’s a job, May. What else is in your life? Besides a lover who’s leaving town in two days.”
May’s cheeks flamed as if Sadie had hit her. “What is it? Pile on May Day?”
Sadie touched May’s cheek lightly. “I wasn’t sure if you could blush. Your skin is so beautiful.” She dropped her hand. “And I’d call it Speak-Truth-to-May Day, myself. Ready to beard the lion?”
“I have to get his coffee, first. And mine.”
“Maybe not. Don’t bring anything you’d be tempted to throw.”
Upstairs, Edmondsson had moved back behind his death-skin desk. May’s head reeled with new perspectives and current problems, and were things really the way she saw them?
“You lost Kurck.” Where Beau’s blue eyes seemed somehow warm, Edmondsson’s gaze felt glacial. She just swapped them in her mental picture with Beau’s warm ones.
“You lost him. He doesn’t think you’re the leader the expedition needs.”
“Insolent puppy.” Edmondson stood, as if by standing he could get more air in his lungs for shouting. “I’d been to both poles before he was out of diapers. If he’s even out of them now.”
This bloviating was so familiar to May that she had a word for it: pontifigushing. She leaned on one hip and waited for the flood of words to subside.
But why was she so familiar with it? Because Edmondsson did it quite a bit, sure, but she wasn’t that often with him. She heard him direct it at others, but she’d heard it a lot more than that.
Then she realized: this was how her dad communicated. The not-listening, the over-talking, the expectation that May was meek and would just take it.
Hmmm.
Beau listened to her. He actually responded to the words she said, the ideas she floated. What would it be like to be noticed all day? Exhausting. May liked to be invisible, in the main. Less drama, for sure.
But less glory, as well. And she did want to stretch, to do more video, to see her ideas in motion.
Edmondsson was winding down, like a toy with a key to tighten the spring that quickly spins loose.
“Here’s an idea,” May said.
“I don’t need ideas.”
“Kurck won’t stay on the project without a full social-media team. Video, audio, animation.”
He scoffed. “No artist would survive Antarctica.”
May rocked back on her hips, but gathered strength from somewhere and leaned forward again. “You’ve never watched the Nat Geo channel? Never watched the news? Photo people can be just as tough as dog-sled drivers.”
Edmondsson flicked a well-manicured hand. “Tell him I’ll consider it.”
“But you won’t really do it?” May liked seeing her boss flinch. He wasn’t such a toughie.
“I said I’d consider it. Especially if that’s all he wants.” His perfect posture sank from his hips. “We need his money. Fund-raising is a bear these days.” Then he straightened.
“Tell him whatever he wants to hear. But tell him the price is that he’s outed.”
Sadie choked beside her. “Outed?”
“As the benefactor. He’ll get his blasted artists, but he’ll pay for them. And we get to use him to raise the rest of the money.”
Sadie waved her hands, crossing and uncrossing, in front of her. “He won’t go for it. That was the sticking point before.”
“Then we won’t tell him.” Edmondsson looked at May, his face drawn into that fierce pose familiar from the posters downstairs.
“Get him to the party, come hell or high water. We’ll announce it then.”
****
When May returned to the penthouse, Beau was slouched in the dining-room table seat, gazing deep into his array of screens. He perked up, though, when the aroma of the food she’d picked up from Shophouse drifted over.
“Sichuan?”
“They didn’t have the noodles, so I got you brown rice.”
He dug into it with gusto. “Forgot to eat again. This time-shift is for the birds. Sorry, bad joke. I’ve had penguins on the brain all day.”
May slipped into the chair beside him. “New images?”
“They sliced the asses off, like you suggested. But something still is wrong.�
�� He waved at the screens, full of tiny, skinny-butt penguin drawings.
“I went to the zoo this afternoon, and did some photos and sketches.” She handed him a thumb drive.
“You escaped your own zoo?” But he smiled and did the upload as May pulled her sketchbook out of her bag.
“Very funny. Look, the problem is the shoulders. They should be more square?”
“Is that a question or an observation?”
She sat back, pulling the book out of his hands. “You know, I’ve heard just about enough paternalism for one day.”
He leaned back, matching her posture. “So, a rain check, then?”
“As if. I just realized today that you’re gone in two days. So, any more of that ‘I know what’s good for you,’ and you’ll be watching another set of condoms close in on their expiration date.”
“The clerk said she didn’t think they did expire. The package just has to say that.”
May snorted. “Was she pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then.”
“Now who’s being all judgy?”
“Judgy? Is that English?”
“English is all about coining new words and borrowing from other languages. That’s why everyone likes it.”
“Really?”
“No.” He smirked and snatched the sketches out of her hand. “It’s because you’re a bunch of rape-and-pillagers.”
“And you’re not? Nazi sympathizers.”
“A low blow, Miss Reed. We had to fight the Russians, and you can’t always pick your allies.”
That sobered her up. Were her allies any better? “Listen, Beau. I’m supposed to lie to you.”
He set the book down and took her hands. Pulling her to sidesaddle on his lap, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not surprised.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. His shoulder, which with the rest of him, would be gone in two days. “Can you stay longer?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“So we can use up those condoms.”
He kissed her ear, a warm breath tickling her there. “I’ll ask Meri. Now, the lie?”
“It’ll hold. How about we finish dinner first?”
“How about we make ourselves a little hungrier before dinner, you mean. No. You started it, now finish.” He set her back into her seat, handed her the bowl of vegetable curry, and took up his own. “I need to fortify to keep up with you.”
“Okay,” she said between bites. “Edmondsson plans to agree to everything you demand.”
“Even if I demand that you get to go with the team?”
“Would you?” May’s imagination exploded. She’d never dare think of such an adventure. Going to Antarctica, seeing animals where they could act real, she almost couldn’t imagine it.
“Would you like to go?”
“More than anything. It’s cold, yeah, but that’s what jackets are for. And I’ve spent three years writing about penguins, and drawing them. I so want to see them in the real, not just the zoo.”
“So, I demand that you go, as social media leader.”
“Say I’m whatever, it won’t matter.”
“Did you say you got two of these bowls for me?” She handed him the second. “Why won’t it matter?”
“Because he’s not going to do any of it.”
“He’s not going?”
“He’s going. But he plans to out you at the dinner, tell everyone you’re behind it. And then describe it just as he wants. Once it’s public, if you raise a stink, it’s because you’re an asshole, not because he lied to you. And he knows that once you promise a thing, you do it.”
He chewed on that, as well as the second helping of beef with teriyaki sauce, for a few minutes.
“He thinks I won’t go back on my word?”
“He knows it. Remember when you said you’d get the app out on May 1, and the power went out a week before? And you shipped in all generators in Sweden and had everybody’s family come in for the weekend so you would get the app out?”
“That’s why we don’t set dates anymore.”
“But that shows that once you’ve committed, you follow through.”
“So Edmondsson plans to commit me to something only he wants.”
“The only way to avoid it is not to go to the party, not even to be in DC. You should go home early.” But if he left now, all bets were off. She’d never see him again. May’s breath hitched.
He noticed, and the anger on his brow turned to concern. “Run away. And leave you?”
“Then you can say you didn’t agree to it. And you won’t have to stand there while he simpers and pretend you agree.”
“I don’t like the idea of running away.”
“You ran away this afternoon.”
“I didn’t run—I rescued you. Well, I thought I was rescuing you, before you told me to mind my own business. Give me one of those beers.”
He twisted the cap off and took a deep draft. “American beer tastes like piss. So, you’re done with me?”
What? “Me?”
“You’re sending me home?”
“No. I’d like you to stay. Remember when I asked you to stay longer, what, five minutes ago?”
“But you’d advise me to go.” He looked at the bottle, and then looked at her. Why did she feel like she was melting? “Come with me.”
“To Finland?”
“It’s beautiful. Better music, better beer. Far better broadband.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? Here, try this.” He handed her the bottle, and she drank. “Am I right? Horse piss.”
“I see what you mean. Wait, I don’t. We’ve known each other—what?—two days?”
“Three.”
“And three days ago, you were about to propose to another woman.”
“And you were all sad girl in your little woman-cave. So?”
“So, you don’t think this is a little fast? That we’re just rebounding?”
“Did it feel like rebounding this morning?”
She had to admit it hadn’t. It had felt perfect, just right. “The thought that it wouldn’t happen again makes me feel blue.”
“Exactly. If not black. We need to follow this through, see where it leads us.”
“Or not.”
He took the bottle back and finished it off. “Come here.” He pulled her back onto his lap, forward this time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, piss-beer tongue and all.
He pushed her chair away, as if she was going anywhere, and scooped her rear, pressing her closer to him.
She wriggled even closer, smiling into his lips as she felt the rest of him respond.
His hands slipped under the hem of her skirt. She felt open and exposed and wonderful.
But he wasn’t going to be able to reach her, as tight in as they were. May hooked her foot around his and kicked. He lunged forward, and she used her weight to pull them toward the carpet. He caught them just in time, settling them gently. He lifted his head, a question in his eyes.
“Better access this way. More efficient.”
“Indeed.” He took full advantage, sliding his hand under her knee, and up and around, almost too slow. She bent her leg to see if she could make his hand slide faster.
“In a hurry, Miss Reed?”
“Only for you, Mr. Kurck.”
“I think we should go over your very nice penguin sketches first, then.”
“I’ll show you some sketches.”
He let her push him down, laughing. She lifted her skirt and straddled him, forgetting to take care of the pants again, but at least now there were only three layers of clothing between them. Or two.
“No, I’m not commando.” She must have frowned, for he laughed again, bouncing her up and down a little. She liked that feeling. She wanted more.
But he wanted sketches, did he? She ran her hands through all his shirt’s stupid buttons and pushed it away. Spreading her hands wide, she
pulled her fingers gently down his taut chest, shoulders to hips. Then she did it again, nails down, marking little furrows down him. Marking him. Mine.
She leaned in and traced the lines, already disappearing with her tongue, taking little diversions when she came across a nipple. He sucked in a breath, and she glanced up at his face. She wiggled her hips, her panties warm and right over his bulging need. He groaned.
“Slow enough for you, Mr. Kurck?”
“You’re killing me.”
“Such a sweet talker.” She lifted her arms, settling deep into his seat, and unhooked the halter top part of her dress. He smiled and reached for the fabric. But he didn’t stop there, but reached around to the fastening at the back of her skirt. Freeing it, he swept the skirt fabric up and off her, over her head. He tossed it onto his chair, behind them.
“I like dresses that don’t need bras.” Bringing his hand back, he splayed it on her back and pushed her forward. Tilting his head up, he flicked her nipple as she had his. She lifted up involuntarily, and he pushed her forward until he had a whole mouthful of her breast. For once she didn’t feel too small, but perfect. Just right.
She slid her hands between them, undoing the button and zipper of his khakis. He took her other breast in his hand, and she smiled. A boxers man, just as she’d suspected.
But he wasn’t being as cooperative as he was this morning. He kept his hips pinned to the floor, even as she’d lifted up to give him room. She leaned forward and took his mouth, matching his tongue’s circling of her tightly ruched nipple. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes closed. She scooted her hips up, and quickly reached behind her down his hips, inside the roomy boxers, and slid him free.
His eyes popped open in surprise. “You distracted me.”
“Fair’s fair,” she said, quickly dispensing with her own bikini briefs. She felt deliciously wet, and wanton, and so, so ready.
“Use your words, Miss May.”
“I want you in me, now, deep, and deep, and deep.”
He pulled her head toward his and kissed her long, and deep. But it wasn’t the deep she wanted. “In the jeans. Back pocket.”
She pivoted and rummaged and found a strip of three condoms. “Only three?”
“For now. Are you sure you’re ready?”
How could he even ask? She was drenching his crotch with her readiness even now. She ripped a packet open and popped the condom in his mouth. His expression was priceless. “Softens it up,” she said.
Babysitting the Billionaire Page 7