Stud

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  I resisted banging my head on the bricks. “Why?”

  “I was in his office. Working.”

  Uh-huh.

  “And the bank transfers came through. Four million dollars.”

  “Four?” I straightened up from my slouch.

  “He made me promise not to tell anyone, but he’s going to put back the money your father stole and—“

  “Buy out my father with the other three million.” I finished her sentence. I knew I was missing an angle Warren and Bette were playing.

  “Yeah, but then Terri came in and I got really jealous because he wanted to take her to lunch for helping him with the Brockton account.”

  I’d told her not to work on anything but Lemmingware. I pushed away the annoyance. Terri was the least of my problems. “Then what happened?”

  “Well, she heard us talking and she asked Simon what was going on. So he told her. He said your father said he needed the money to get out of a gambling debt. And that’s when the argument started.”

  “Argument?”

  “He said that when he had control of the company tomorrow, he would hire her full-time with benefits that would start immediately.”

  That son of a bitch. “What happened then?”

  “She started to cry.”

  I had to lean back against the wall. I hadn’t been expecting that. “Why?”

  “She was blubbering about how that would save her house and her brother because they’ve been paying out of pocket for the medical expenses. And then he hugged her. He fucking hugged her, Mick.”

  I didn’t like it either. I liked it even less that Simon wasn’t going to get those shares so Terri wouldn’t have those benefits. Then I felt like a first-class shit. Jeez, all right already. I’d hire her as a permanent employee and she could figure out a way to make the telecommuting fair to everyone so that it wasn’t a Human Resources nightmare.

  “So why are you locked in my bathroom afraid that Simon is going to kill you?”

  “I snapped a picture of them hugging and sent it to Laila.”

  I groaned.

  “Then I lost my nerve and ran.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Laila is really pissed.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “It gets worse,” Janet said in a small voice.

  “How does it get worse?”

  “They were looking for you, but your office was empty. While I hid in your bathroom, I heard them talking about your father and the money that Simon was now going to lose from Laila. He was upset that loan sharks were going to go after him next.”

  I snorted. It was always about Simon.

  “Then, Terri said your father’s story was bullshit.”

  “How would she know?” I couldn’t believe the crap that happened when I was out of the office.

  “She said the math didn’t work out.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What math?”

  “The two million in interest. She thinks your father stole the money from Wentworth and paid off the loan shark in full.”

  “Then why does he need the money by Friday?”

  “Friday?” Janet said. “He needs it by Thursday.”

  “Son of a bitch,” I whispered.

  Janet kept talking, but I had checked out. If Simon paid them on Thursday, three million, and I paid them on Friday, three million, who knew which of us would get the correct shares, if either of us? Did they owe the loan shark six million dollars?

  Checking my phone for the notes on my father’s case, the money went missing in June. He supposedly was in the Hamptons with my mother for the month doing a string of charity golf tournaments. If he had been in Vegas and stole the money to pay off the loan, why was he looking for six million now? Did he run up another bill?

  I frowned. That didn’t scan. My father loved money and while he might have been caught with his pants down once, I didn’t see his doing it again. The only other thing I could come up with was he and my mother were going to bolt before some other evil deed they had done came to light. Or maybe the old man was that afraid of prison and didn’t think his attorney had a strong case to defend him against embezzlement.

  Six million dollars could start a nice life somewhere. I shook my head. After all these years, they were still playing my brother and me against each other and we were still falling for it. I thought about Keith and Billy and how Elaine and Terri would have sold their last article of clothing to keep them safe and healthy. I wouldn’t piss on Simon if he was on fire and vice versa. Knowing this, my parents were going to steal from their sons and by the time it all sorted itself out, they would be long gone. Monaco, maybe, or someplace where the United States didn’t have an extradition policy.

  Terri just earned her full-time permanent position with benefits. Health benefits. The other benefits would have to wait until I had the actual shares signed over to me.

  “And now Laila won’t give him the money,” Janet sobbed.

  “Good.” That would give me some time.

  “What?” she said.

  “Look, I’ll call Simon and smooth things over. Sit tight and I’ll tell you when the coast is clear.”

  “Okay,” Janet sniveled.

  I immediately called my lawyer. “Larry? Slight change in plans. Can you get your investigator to dig into my parents’ finances? I think there’s some trouble there that we can exploit.”

  There could very well be another loan shark in the background, but I didn’t think so. I did the math in my head for the hundred-thousand-dollars-a-day interest; it would take thirty days to reach three million. The money was stolen in June. If my father’s bullshit story was true, he’d now owe more than twelve million dollars to the loan shark. Damn it, if I hadn’t been so blinded by those shares, I would have figured that out long before now.

  It was the perfect con artist trick. Tell the truth to hide the bigger lie. I bet he had snuck away to Vegas and everything he said happened—with the one big exception. He’d never let the vig get so high. That’s why he stole from the company, to pay it off in full. Warren probably figured he’d put the money back before anyone noticed. Unfortunately for him, I was watching the books more closely than he realized.

  So if my parents’ plan had worked, on Thursday Simon would have wired over the funds and then got the signed documents, saying he now owned their shares in the Wentworth Agency. On Friday, I would have paid someone and contacted the prosecutor for another set of signed documents. I assumed I would be the one with the false documents, because I fired Bette and sicced the police on Warren. It was a good revenge plan. Because once I pleaded for my father’s innocence, saying his stealing the one million dollars was all a big mistake, immediately turning around and accusing him of stealing three more million dollars would make this all seem like a family squabble instead of a felony.

  The only way that would have worked was if they used two different law firms to separately draw up the paperwork, timing it so each firm thought they had the originals. This had Bette’s nail polish all over it. It sounded like something she had put together after Warren got busted for embezzlement.

  The next call I made wasn’t so easy.

  “Hello, Simon…”

  Chapter 17

  Terri

  TGIF.

  I made it through another week.

  So when five o’clock came along, I strode into Mick’s office.

  “Hey,” I said, peeking my head in. Janet was nowhere to be seen.

  Mick was on the phone. He shooed me away with a cross look on his face. Well, fuck you too, buddy. I was going to come clean and let him know that I didn’t have a date. So if he wanted to come over for another tragically nerdy date, I was going to ask him to game with the guild tonight. But apparently his phone call was more important. Fine. I was going out to par-tay. I’d find a club and go dancing by myself.

  Picking up a sack of burgers and fries first, I let myself in to Billy’s apartment. “Hey,” I called. “
I brought dinner.”

  Tossing the food on the table, I wandered into the living room.

  “Why are you sitting in the dark?” I asked, flicking on the switch.

  Billy blinked up at me. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  His crutches were just out of reach and his wheelchair was overturned. My heart hammered. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He stretched, not looking at me. “I had a bad day, that’s all.”

  He could have called me. I would have come over. I gathered up his crutches and brought them over to him along with righting the wheelchair. Sitting down next to him, I asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He shrugged. “Not much to say. Took the pain medication.”

  “Good for you.”

  “No, not good for me. I got dizzy and I fell out of the wheelchair.”

  “Oh my God, did you pass out?”

  “No, but I was so weak. I managed to crawl to my crutches and get to the couch and I was okay for a while. Then I had to do my homework so I went into the bedroom to get my stuff and I fell again. Smashed my laptop.”

  “Are you bleeding?” I pushed a lock of hair from his forehead, but he flinched away. “Did you break anything?” I patted him down.

  “Will you stop?” Billy said. “The only thing that’s broken is my computer.”

  I went into his bedroom and saw the machine. It was in a few pieces. Collecting it up, I came back out to the living room. “You did a number on it, but I’ve got friends in the IT department. We’ll probably be able to save the hard drive and what’s on it.”

  Billy shrugged again. “Won’t do me much good without a computer.”

  “You can use mine,” I said, biting my lip. “Just don’t log in as me for Legends.”

  Narrowing his eyes at me, he asked, “Why not?”

  “Because I’m asking you to.” I did not want him to see the chat logs between Yrsa and Starkad.

  “Okay, that’s nice of you. But don’t you need it?”

  “I can borrow one from work until we figure out what to do with yours,” I said, placing the pieces of the computer into my computer bag. Reaching in, I handed him my laptop and plugged it in for him. “I got you some White Castle? Are you interested?”

  He gave me the first smile of the day. “You’re the best.”

  After we ate, I helped him to the bathroom and left him there while I cleaned up. “Are you going to play in bed?” I asked him. “Or do you want to come back out here?”

  “Bed,” he called out.

  I set him up and plugged him in by the bedside table. I made sure his crutches and his wheelchair were in reach. “I’m going out,” I said.

  “With that guy you won’t introduce me to?”

  “No.” I pushed down a little pang of hurt. “I told you that he’s my boss and we were talking work that time.”

  “You always kiss your boss?”

  “That was before he was my boss.”

  “Last week, you told me your boss might sleep over.”

  “Well, he didn’t,” I snapped. “And I’m going out. Alone. To a nice club.”

  “Be careful.” Billy frowned. “I wish you’d go with some girls from the office.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Another thing I refused to feel hurt about.

  “Are you sure you don’t want an early night?”

  “Do you want me to stay?” I said. “Because I will.”

  “Not for me,” Bill said, shaking his head. “For you.”

  “It’s been a while since I went out dancing.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he deadpanned.

  My face flushed. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean…”

  “Gotcha.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Don’t drink and drive.”

  “I won’t.” I helped him to bed.

  “Call me when you get home.”

  “I will.” I tucked him in.

  “Don’t leave your drinks unoccupied.”

  “I won’t,” I droned as I left the bedroom.

  “Do you have condoms?” he called out.

  “I won’t need them,” I yelled back—like I wanted to have that discussion with my brother. After that debacle with Mick last week, I bought a pack and put them in the drawer in my bedside table. Trudging upstairs, I took a quick shower and then stood in a towel for half an hour glaring at the contents of my closet. I had nothing to wear that looked cute. Nothing like what those girls were wearing in Mick’s VIP lounge. They wore saucy sequins and lacey slips that just covered their bits. I had nothing fancy. In the end, I settled for my LBD that had seen better days and put on a pair of shoes that would have me limping in a few hours. After a heavy hand with the makeup brush, I thought I could pass to get into one of the clubs.

  I was wrong.

  Leaning up against the wall, I could see the velvet rope. But I wasn’t getting any closer to getting past it. I scrolled around through Facebook and checked in via Foursquare to see if someone—anyone—I knew was around. No one. I should give up and try another club. It was still early. But I was determined. Of course then, he had to show up.

  Mick Wentworth.

  He had ditched the suit and wore a tight black T-shirt and black jeans. That big earring sparkled and he was sporting some killer leather boots. Calypso, his tattoo, was the only girl on his arm. I shrank back into the crowd, but something must have caught his eye because he did a double take.

  Busted.

  Striding up to me, he took me by the elbow and walked me to the velvet rope where—of course—we were let right in.

  “Hello to you too,” I said after we passed the bouncers. I didn’t want to sass him before we got in and have to go wait in the back of the line again.

  “You looked a little bored.”

  “I was. You always help out bored girls?”

  “When they’ve got tits like yours.”

  “You’re such a pig.” I shook my head, but secretly I was glad. I took his arm and rubbed those tits against them. “Just for that, you’re buying me a martini. A girly pink one.”

  “I’ll buy you a mixed drink. But if you want a martini, it’s going to be clear.”

  “And stirred, not shaken.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Unless you want a dirty martini,” he said in my ear.

  I shivered. “That sounds rather naughty, what’s in it?”

  Mick’s hand rested on my hip and I shamelessly pressed into him. “Olive juice.”

  “Really? That’s disappointing. No, I’ll have a Slippery Nipple.”

  His eyes darkened. “I’d like to give you a slippery nipple.”

  “Or a Sloe Comfortable Screw Up Against the Wall?”

  “It wouldn’t be slow,” he said. “How about a Blow Job?”

  “Are we talking about a shot or are you propositioning me?” I was on board for either or both.

  “Yes.”

  Pushing me to the bar, he held me to him while he ordered my shot. The warmth of his body made me want to slide all over him like a cat in heat, but I managed to control myself. He ordered a tequila shot for himself. He shook some salt on the lemon slice.

  “Been one of those weeks?” I asked when he tossed the shot back. My eyes were riveted on his mouth when he sucked the lemon.

  I sipped on my drink. It was frothy and yummy.

  “That’s a shot, sunshine. Drink up,” he said and snapped his fingers at the bartender for another one.

  “Stop that shit.” I grabbed his fingers. “That’s so fucking obnoxious.”

  He grinned. “Sorry, force of habit.” He tipped the bartender a fifty, and two more shots, one for him and one for me, arrived in record time.

  “I want to enjoy this one,” I protested, licking the cream off the top.

  His fingers tightened on my hip and I inched closer.

  “There’s more where that comes from.”

  “What’s gotten into you?” I asked. “You were all grim and pissy when I left work
and now you’re smiling and you’re drinking like we’re celebrating something.” His eyes were almost manic with glee.

  “We are. I just closed a deal that I’ve been working on my whole life.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You started this deal while you were in diapers.”

  “Pretty much.” When he licked the salt off his knuckle, my knees went weak.

  “So this is a coincidence,” I said, clearing my throat. I finished my shot and another magically appeared in front of me. “You finding me here.”

  “No, it’s not. You pretty much broadcasted where you were all over social media.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You stalk me on Facebook? You don’t even have my number.”

  “Of course I have your number.”

  “Then why don’t you call?” It was out of my mouth before I thought better of it. The Slippery Nipple was making my tongue slippery.

  He smoothed his hand down my back. “Maybe that’s going to change now.”

  Tilting my head back, I looked up at him. “What exactly happened today?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Let’s dance.”

  I slugged down the shot in time so I didn’t have to take the shot glass with me. Mick pulled me out onto the dance floor. It was loud and hot. The music was driving and the lights flashed all different colors around us. I might have been a teensy bit tipsy because I didn’t protest as Mick’s hand on my ass pressed me into his erection. I also might have ground for all I was worth against him.

  “Why did you come out tonight?” I asked in his ear.

  He took the opportunity to bite my neck gently. His beard scraped against the tender flesh of my neck. I was about to shove my hand in his damn pants if he didn’t quit it.

  “I wanted to see if you were up to a trek in World of Legends.”

  Rubbing against him, I lost myself in the dance and his words. He had wanted to geek out with me tonight.

  “But this is good too,” he said.

  It was more than good.

  The music slowed down and I was all but fucking him on the dance floor.

  “What do you say we get out of here? I’ll bring you back to my place.”

  Tempting.

  I enjoyed the feel of his body against mine. Was I going to sleep with him? Oh, hell yes. There wasn’t a doubt. Did I want to do the walk of shame tomorrow back to the house? Did I want to call Billy and explain where I was? Oh, hell no.