by Karis Walsh
Merissa shifted until she and Billie were looking directly at each other. She wanted to speak, to tell Billie how much she wanted and needed her, to whisper yes or more or the other words she used during sex to connect herself to the woman she was with, but she didn’t need to say or ask for anything. The connection between them was undeniably there, not requiring talk or direction. When she wanted more pressure, Billie sensed it and responded. When Billie’s eyes fluttered closed as she came close to orgasm, Merissa seemed to know the exact moment to drive against her and bring them both to climax. She shuddered in Billie’s arms and was gripped tightly as their bodies settled back into a soft, pulsing rhythm.
Billie wrapped her arms around Merissa and rolled until she was on her side, their legs still entwined. As the intensity of sex abated, Merissa felt herself sink deeper into Billie’s arms, closer to sleep. At the same time, she sensed Billie’s agitation rising again. She moved until their bodies were apart and faced Billie, her head propped on her curved arm and her free hand lightly touching Billie’s dark hair where it fell in a wave across the side of her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You felt wonderful…we felt wonderful together.” Billie glanced away, and then at Merissa again. “I wasn’t expecting this, but I’ve wanted to feel you close to me for a long time now. I guess the effects of the nightmare take some time to dissipate all the way.”
“Try again,” Merissa said with a smile, tracing her fingers over the curves and hollows of Billie’s cheek.
Billie sighed, and Merissa felt the movement arc through her hand and into her heart. Pain, worry, guilt. She knew the emotions must be part of Billie’s dreams, but they were aggravated by the present. By Merissa. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she insisted.
Billie shook her head. “Yesterday at the stables, Don managed to get all the way to the car, and I didn’t realize he was there. He told me he was surprised, that usually no one could get close without me sensing it, and he was right. I need to be alert, Merissa. To be aware of everything going on around us, not so wrapped up in you that the rest of the world, including people who want to hurt you, can slip inside my defenses. He warned me not to get so close I couldn’t protect you. I wish we—”
Merissa put her fingers over Billie’s mouth to stop the sentence, and then cupped her chin and kept Billie’s eyes on her. “Don’t regret this. Please. It meant something real to me to be here for you when you woke up. And it meant even more to feel connected like we did.”
Billie put her hand on Merissa’s waist and dragged her thumb over her lower ribs. “I don’t regret it. And I want more of you, of us, but not now. Not until I know you’re safe.”
Merissa closed her eyes for a moment, letting her fingers continue their journey from Billie’s chin to her neck and to the swell of her breasts. Billie was pulling away because she cared too much. Merissa didn’t agree with Billie’s decision, but she had to recognize the depth of emotion behind it. If Merissa didn’t matter so much, Billie wouldn’t have felt the need for distance and objectivity.
“I think you’re wrong,” Merissa said, using the work-roughened pads of her fingers to urge Billie’s nipple to grow tight and erect. Billie’s body strained toward her even as Billie’s mind wanted to disconnect. “You care about your team, don’t you? You’ve let them be part of your life. Do you think you wouldn’t do whatever it took to keep them safe?”
“Of course,” Billie said, her breath hitching when Merissa squeezed her taut nipple. “But you’re different. If anything happened to you because I got careless…”
Merissa smoothed her hand across Billie’s stomach, feeling the waves of reaction follow her touch. She barely brushed against delicate strands of hair before changing course and easing her hand down Billie’s thigh.
“You really want us to take a step back?”
Billie hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally, sounding as if it took tremendous effort to push the word out.
“Starting now? Or later?” Merissa slid a finger through Billie’s wetness and used her palm to apply gentle pressure and keep Billie’s hips still.
“Later.” The word came out as a gasp, and Merissa swirled her finger around Billie’s clit, increasing pressure until Billie arched against her and cried her name.
Merissa traced a line up Billie’s abdomen and chest with a damp finger. “So,” she said in a long breath. “Starting now?”
“Later,” Billie repeated, flipping Merissa on her back with a suddenness that made her laugh. She lowered her mouth to Merissa’s navel and licked a circle around it. She raised her head and looked at Merissa with a wicked grin. “Much, much later.”
Chapter Eighteen
Merissa tapped on the open door to Dennis’s office and waited until Karen looked up from her calculator and nodded for her to enter. Merissa sat in the chair opposite her, feeling a stab of sadness when she remembered how many times she had sat like this with Dennis, sharing ideas and arguments and mock insults across the dark walnut desk. No matter how boring his plans had become, in person he had been as vibrant and brilliant as always. She blinked away the heat of threatening tears.
“Hello, Merissa, dear. You’re earlier than I expected, and my lawyer isn’t here with the papers yet.” Karen gave her a perfect small smile with the perfect little sigh as it faded away. The appropriately grieving widow. The act felt fake to Merissa, but she wondered if she was only searching desperately for someone to blame for Dennis’s shooting. Her desire for justice was clouding her judgment, and everyone seemed like a potential murderer to her.
“Hi, Karen,” she answered, matching her in tone and expression. “I guess I wanted to walk around the office for a while before we started. It feels so empty without Dennis in it, but at the same time I feel closest to him here.” Actually, she had been hoping for another chance to snoop around, but Karen’s presence had foiled that.
Karen gathered some loose papers and stuffed them in a folder. “I’m here for the same reason,” she said. “I feel closer to him here, where he loved to be. Even more than in our home.”
Merissa reached out and picked up a wood and brass toy gyroscope. She had given it to Dennis last Christmas, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking to take it back. She spun the inner wheel. “I know he was trying to change that and spend more time with you. I’m sure the memories of having him around more lately must be a comfort to you.”
Karen snorted, and Merissa looked at her in surprise. It was the first honest-feeling reaction she had heard from Karen so far.
“It might have been a comfort twenty years ago, dear, but not now. To tell you the truth, we spent most of the past few months arguing.” Karen shook her head. “What an awful thing to admit,” she said quietly, and Merissa felt like the rest of the room—including herself—receded, and Karen was talking to herself.
“Almost forty years of marriage. I spent most of them fighting with him to stop working so much.” Her voice took on an exaggerated nagging tone. “Spend time with me and the kids. Take me on dates, on vacations, out to dinner . After a while, I gave up and was resigned to having an absent, workaholic husband. And eventually, I rediscovered myself. I found hobbies, new friends, a whole life I’d given up when I got married. And then he decides he wants to be around more.”
Karen looked at Merissa as if surprised to see her there. She held out one hand in a beseeching manner. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always loved him, but he had a life separate from me here at the office. It took me years to figure it out, but I made a life of my own, with him as only a small part of it. I adapted, and when he suddenly was around more, I was as resentful as he used to be when I’d plead with him to spend more time at home. I finally got what I had been asking for, and I didn’t want it anymore. Do I sound like a horrible person?”
The last sentence was barely audible, and Merissa shook her head automatically. She wasn’t sure if she was absolving Karen of her guilt or if she was just sad because of th
e story. She wondered if one of Karen’s new hobbies had been a lover. Would she have killed Dennis to get him out of the way, while not giving up the monetary benefits of his workaholic lifestyle? Maybe the lover had decided he was done with being the man on the side and had wanted to step more fully into Karen’s life. Getting rid of Dennis might have seemed like his only option.
“I understand how the two of you could have grown apart,” Merissa said. She thought of Billie, who was likely pacing back and forth under the window behind Karen, ready to catch Merissa if she decided to jump again. As much as Merissa loved her job, she wouldn’t sacrifice a relationship with someone like Billie for it. And she knew Billie would be the same. She had grown up as the sacrifice in her dad’s attempt to earn more for his family. Merissa was certain she wouldn’t want to be on either end of the deal ever again. Dennis had been different. When she had first started—and even during the past year—Dennis had always been here, whether she had come in early or stayed late. He never turned down an opportunity to go on one of their scouting trips, when they’d spend most of the day driving and talking and having lunch together. She could understand Karen’s resentment and her gradual drift away from Dennis.
“We did grow apart.” Karen fidgeted with the calculator while Merissa played with the gyroscope. Neither met the other’s eyes. “And it was awkward when he tried to fit back into the life I’d made. Early in our marriage, I was the one who changed and compromised to fit in his life. Things changed when he wasn’t looking. Still, I believe we would have grown closer again, somehow. Especially since he was talking about retiring.”
“Retiring?” Merissa repeated. She had seen the papers and knew Dennis had been thinking of selling the firm, but she didn’t realize he had shared the news with Karen.
Karen looked at her. “Yes. I tried to convince him to stay with the firm, maybe slow down and gradually taper off. He was too young and active to retire. He’d have been bored out of his mind, and not having this job would have driven him crazy.”
Driven both of them crazy, Merissa decided. “Sounds like your marriage was his top priority. Unless there was another reason for him to want to retire. I’d noticed some of his designs were growing sort of, well, repetitious. Maybe he was feeling tired and stagnant at work. He seemed as sharp as usual when I saw him here, but was he having any health issues?”
Merissa didn’t think Karen was a good enough actress to pull off the shocked expression she had on her face, from her raised eyebrows to her short-lived stutter as she answered Merissa.
“Dennis might have had some human failings as a husband, but as a designer he’s never been anything but brilliant. Are you accusing him of being senile? Or just growing too stale to keep up with a young, up-and-coming urban planner like you, with the international diploma your grandfather bought you.”
Whoa, time to back off . Merissa put her hands out flat, as if she was calming a nervous horse. “I’m not implying either one. If I’m going to buy the firm, I need as much information as possible about the present state of the company. Dennis didn’t share the type of details I need with any of us who work here. I didn’t even know he wanted to retire until you just told me.”
Merissa wasn’t sure what graduating from a school in Canada had to do with anything, and she had paid for her own tuition and expenses, never touching a penny of her grandfather’s money. She kept her defensive reaction to Karen’s words to herself, though, since getting into an argument wouldn’t get her what she needed. Besides, if Billie heard raised voices from her post outside the office, she’d be sure to come barging through the window to Merissa’s rescue.
“Dennis had a style that worked for him and for his investors,” she continued while Karen visibly fought for control over her emotions. “It made sense for him to be consistent with his plans, and I only thought the repetition might have been boring for a designer with his immense talent and gift for innovation.”
Merissa worried that she might be laying it on too thick, but Karen gave a little sniff and nodded, looking mollified.
“I don’t know about the designs you’re talking about, since I had so little to do with the company, but you’re right—he was a genius in his field. I only hope you learned enough from him while you had the chance, and that you appreciated the knowledge he shared.” Karen stood up and tossed the calculator onto the desk. “I’d hate to see this firm ever fold, ruining his good reputation and the years of hard work he put into making it a success. I hear my lawyers out in the lobby. Let’s meet in the conference room.”
Merissa fumed for a moment before she got up and followed Karen out of the office. She was tempted to call for backup after the unveiled insult and have Billie come in and punch Karen. Or maybe they could follow Karen’s car after this meeting, until she committed some traffic infraction and Billie could give her a massive ticket. She wasn’t convinced Billie would do either one, especially since Merissa wasn’t in any real danger, but the imagined look on Karen’s face made her smile.
Merissa walked down the familiar hallway toward the conference room. She still wasn’t sure how truthful Karen was being. She honestly hadn’t seemed aware of the downward spiral of Dennis’s plans lately, but Merissa was sure Karen had more of a handle on the firm’s accounts and business than she claimed. Her anger might be intended to cover up a decline in his health or to downplay her own relief that Dennis wasn’t hanging around long enough to retire and drive her mad. She seemed oddly determined to preserve the company that had taken Dennis’s time and energy away from her during the earlier stages of their marriage. Merissa could explain the discrepancy either by greed—Karen wanted to make a huge profit from selling the firm—or from a sense of vengeance. Did she want to squeeze as much money as possible out of the company, thereby getting her revenge for the years and love it seemed to have taken from her?
Either way, the audit would stall the negotiations enough to give her time to really decide what she wanted, while letting Karen and the legal team believe she was ready to buy. If she sounded like a window-shopper, she wouldn’t get the info she and Billie needed, either from Karen or from Lemaine and Kensington.
She put her navy leather briefcase on the table next to her and shook hands with the lawyers when Karen introduced them. Mr. Kerslake and Mr. Ross of Kerslake, Ross, and Peters. Merissa couldn’t help but wonder about the missing Mr. or Ms. Peters, but she saved her questions for the necessary, not the merely curious.
After an initial walk-through of the contract, Merissa paused and flipped through the pages once more to give herself time to collect herself. The price Karen was asking was huge, and Merissa wished she had her grandfather’s skills in negotiating just for one day. She pursed her lips, trying to look thoughtful and unswayed by the figures they were tossing about so casually.
“I’ll need to see the books for the past five years, so I can prepare my counteroffer,” she said, implying there was no way in hell she was agreeing to this initial price tag. The tactic gave her time, as well, for her and Billie to look over Dennis’s finances.
Karen and the two men carried on some sort of unspoken conversation, made up of vague nods and shakes of the head before one of them answered her.
“Of course, Ms. Karr. We’ll make copies and have them messaged to you,” said Mr. Kerslake.
“Thank you,” Merissa said. She slid the single sheet of paper out of her folder. Dennis’s handwritten clauses. “I’d also like to consult you about drafting a partnership agreement, incorporating the following clauses.”
She cleared her throat and read the list a little too loudly, but once she started in her imperious tone she’d have felt even sillier switching to a more normal voice, so the entire list was read as if she was a town crier announcing the latest edict from the king. She finally got to the last clause and she set the paper down with a sigh of relief. She’d glanced at Karen after every item, trying to determine whether or not she’d been aware of Dennis’s plans for the firm, but
Karen watched her with a slightly puzzled expression. When she finished, there was another flurry of nonverbal communication among Karen and the lawyers.
“May I see the list?” Mr. Ross reached for it and reread it silently, his fingers steepled under his chin. “You do realize you’ll be the sole owner of the firm, don’t you, Ms. Karr?” he asked as he pushed the paper along the table to Mr. Kerslake. “You’ll be able to choose contractors using any criteria you wish. You don’t need us to put it into writing for you.”
“True,” Merissa said, lengthening the tiny word while she searched for some reasonable explanation to give him. I wanted to see the grieving widow’s reaction to them sounded too callous. “But Dennis’s death suggests to me that a partnership may be the way to go. And I’d rather have these details worked out now.”
The three seemed to reach a consensus. “Of course, we’ll be glad to draft a document incorporating these clauses,” Kerslake said. “We’ll also need time to find a suitable auditor.”
“Perfect,” Merissa said. Time was exactly what she wanted. She thanked everyone and left the room, wishing she could hover outside the door and hear what they had to say about her partnership bombshell—especially Karen—but Dennis had made sure his conference rooms were soundproof and private. Even with her ear to the door, she wasn’t able to hear anything.