Polished

by Turner, Alyssa

  She flashed her eyes at him. “I wouldn’t have minded…well, maybe that I didn’t get to watch.”

  Spencer raised his eyebrows. “You’re full of surprises.”

  “I know, right?” She giggled. “Go figure.”

  Jack slapped her ass. “Come show me your fantastic hotcakes.”

  “Yes, sir.” She answered on cue with a big grin. Spencer caught Jack’s eye. Rory was in as deep as he was.

  They were finishing up breakfast on the patio when Jack’s phone rang. Rory watched him take one look at it, swipe at the screen, and put it back in his pocket.

  “No business this weekend,” he said passively, sopping his last bite with maple syrup. “Rory, I can’t believe you’re not having any of these.”

  “A lifetime on the hips, Jack,” she said, taking a dainty bite of egg white. “Don’t get me wrong. I love food. Problem is it loves me back. Doesn’t want to say good-bye when I’m done, keeps sticking around.” She laughed.

  Jack stuck her with his gaze. “Don’t do that.” His gray eyes burned bright and serious. “If you want some, I insist you have some. Don’t deprive yourself. At least not around me. I don’t like it.”

  She twisted her mouth, considering his words. “You’re giving me permission to break my own rules?”

  “I demand it.” He winked at her. “My house, princess. My rules.”

  There was that tone again, making her toes curl. She smiled at him and opened her mouth. Jack cut into the stack of pancakes left on the platter, bathed them in syrup, and placed a forkful into her mouth. She moaned, not unlike the way they’d both made her moan earlier that morning. Her senses ignited with the sweetness and texture. The buttery flavor played on her taste buds. It was heaven, truly.

  “I love your body, Rory,” Spencer said, placing his fingers on her neck under the haphazard ponytail she’d concocted atop her head. “One hundred percent woman.”

  She’d always had wide hips and a generous ass. Being bottom-heavy had irked her since she was sixteen, and she’d gotten used to avoiding all temptations that would make it worse.

  “You’re perfect. Sweet perfection,” Jack said, placing another bite in her mouth. “And you couldn’t be any sexier if you tried.”

  She danced in her seat at how good it tasted, at how good those words sounded. “More butter. I need more butter.” If she was going to dive off the deep end, she may as well drown. “Be right back.”

  As soon as she slid open the deck door she heard the house phone ringing. The machine picked up just as she stepped inside. She turned to yell to Jack, but a man’s voice caught her attention.

  “Jack…Jack, pick up the phone. I know you’re there. You don’t get up before noon on the weekend.” A pause and then, “Hope you took care of our little problem like we discussed. We don’t need that clunk-head demo guy suing us over that tunnel mishap. When you said you were on track yesterday, I expected you to call me this morning with the all clear. Call me back, damn it.” He hung up after that.

  Rory’s heart fell to the floor. That clunk-head demo guy? She wanted to scream in horror. Instead she stood there frozen, not knowing what to do, wishing there was some other interpretation of what she had heard. The events of the weekend replayed in her mind, but those words on the answering machine twisted everything, making it all seem less like a dream and more like a nightmare. Did Jack have some sort of sick ulterior motive all along?

  She imagined Jack laughing about the whole thing over cocktails at some fancy SoHo club, assuring his business partners that their little problem had been “taken care of,” bragging to his friends about how easily he had manipulated them, about how he had them literally jumping at his every command.

  Suddenly Rory couldn’t trust anything anymore. All the feelings of security and safety she’d allowed herself with Jack had turned into a pile of shit before her eyes. She’d trusted him! She’d entrusted her boyfriend to him! She’d walked them right into a trap. Tears streamed from the humiliation of it all. Oh God, Spencer! What had she let him do to Spencer?

  The telltale prickling of hives began to gnaw at her arm. Someone touched her shoulder and she nearly jumped two feet.

  “Hey, didn’t mean to startle you,” Jack said. “Just came to get some more juice.”

  She started crying even as the fire rose in her throat. Her arm burned with sudden ferocity. She scratched at it absently as her chest heaved up and down. “Get away from me!” she screamed and pushed past Jack back onto the deck. “Spencer!” Oh God, Spencer. What was she going to tell him? “Spencer, I want to get out of here. We need to go. We need to go now!”

  Spencer got to his feet by the table and began hobbling his way to the deck. “Huh? Why? Is everything OK?”

  “No! Not OK. I need you to call us a cab.”

  Jack joined her back outside on the deck. “Rory, are you feeling all right? We could skip the regatta.”

  She whipped around to face him. “Why did you do this to us?” Rory put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t bother lying to me. I know. I know why you set this up. The accident was your fault and all of this was so Spencer wouldn’t fucking sue! You’re one sick bastard.” She started to cry again.

  Jack looked stunned. “I…I don’t know if the blast I ordered had anything to do with the water main break.” He stumbled over his words and raked his hand through his hair. What was that look on his face? The nerve of him to look mortified when he’d made fools of them both! And now she was sniveling like a weak little girl. Damn it all to hell.

  “You look guilty as fuck, Jack.” Rory spat the words at him, hoping they would sting. “How could you? How?” He flinched and started to speak, but she interrupted him. “No! Save it. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” Her tears started to fall again and she swiped angrily at them with the back of her hand.

  Spencer made it to her side and pulled his cell phone from his pants. “Shhh, baby. I’m calling a cab, OK? Go pack.”

  “This is crazy. I’ll drive you home if you want.” Jack held his hands out, as if offering something they could trust. Rory sniffed. She couldn’t look at Jack anymore, not for another second, and she took off running past him to the pretty guest room with the unslept-in bed.

  Spencer held his hand out in an entirely different posture, one finger pointed defiantly at Jack’s chest. “No ride. I’m calling a cab like Rory wants.” He tapped his foot while the phone rang. “When I’m done you have exactly two seconds to explain what the fuck she’s talking about.” Spencer’s eyes had narrowed to dangerous-looking slivers.

  Jack’s head was spinning. What had happened to spook her like that? He was at a loss for words. Spencer continued to look at him expectantly when the dispatcher asked for the address. He shook the phone at Jack when still nothing came out of his mouth.

  “Oh, right. 23 Old Pine Road.”

  With the dispatcher confirming a ten-minute wait, Spencer ended the call. He set his jaw and raised his chin. “You better start talking.”

  “I don’t know why she’s so upset, Spencer, really.”

  “Something about me suing you? For what? You afraid your company was negligent for trying to blow that tunnel on the cheap? You brought us here so I wouldn’t sue your ass for almost getting me killed?”

  The furrow in Spencer’s brow deepened. Jack tried to match his incredulity. “Dude, if you remember I was almost killed too.”

  Spencer made an ugly sound at the back of his throat. “That isn’t the part I’m concerned with right about now.”

  “I didn’t invite you for that reason. I didn’t bring you here to seduce you.”

  “How come you can’t look me in the eye when you say that?”

  Panic flooded over Jack. “This weekend was… Fuck, you know what it was, don’t you?”

  Spencer shook his head. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Well it wasn’t…it wasn’t what Rory was talking about. You need to believe me. I don’t
know if the tunnel fuckup was my fault. I…we just wanted to take care of the situation before it got worse. But none of that has anything to do with what happened between us.” Instinctively he reached out toward Spencer’s shoulder.

  Spencer jumped a step backward, as if Jack were infected with some kind of deadly plague. “Fuck you! Leave us the fuck alone.”

  “Spencer, just give me a chance to—”

  “To explain how you brought us here to fuck with our heads?” Spencer’s face was a far cry from the easygoing teddy bear Jack had fallen for on first sight. His furious expression twisted a knife into Jack’s stomach.

  “Please, just hear me out.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t beat the shit out of you where you stand.” Spencer turned and walked down the hall.

  Jack’s cell phone rang again. He stepped through the sliding door and slammed it shut. “What?”

  “I don’t appreciate you ignoring my calls, son. You were supposed to fill me in on your progress last night.” Jackson sounded pissed.

  “Progress?” Jack repeated the word with acid on his tongue.

  “On the union guy. Didn’t you get my voice mails? Get your head out of your ass, Jack. We need to put a lid on this whole shitstorm before it gets away from us.”

  Jack palmed the back of his head and stopped pacing the tight circle he’d been making on the deck. “I’m hanging up now. I have to go.”

  “The hell you do. Tell me you offered him the hundred grand we talked about.”

  “I didn’t. He’s not that type of guy.”

  “Everyone likes money, Jack. Don’t be so fucking naive. Listen, Mayor Daniels is asking about you. Do me a favor. Call that horny bastard back.”

  Jack could feel his stomach curling in on itself. “Fine. I will. Talk to you later.” He ended the call and turned off his phone. Next he walked to the blinking light on the landline and played the message. At least it all made sense now.

  Rory and Spencer came traipsing back down the hall, bags in tow. Spencer didn’t even look at him. That was bad enough. Rory’s eyes were bloodred. She gripped the shoulder strap of her bag with white knuckles. She stared directly at Jack as they turned the corner toward the front door. That look felt like a dagger pressing into the center of Jack’s heart.

  Something seized up inside him then, turning all that hurt into something cold and hard, something much more familiar. After all, Jack didn’t do heartache, right? He sure as hell didn’t stick around to pick up the pieces.

  “Just make sure and lock the door behind you,” he said. Then he turned and walked in the other direction before he could catch another glimpse of either of them. He was a coward. No amount of righteous indignation could make him forget that one little fact.

  The front door slammed and he punched the wall.

  * * *

  That evening, Jack drove straight from the Hamptons to Mayor Daniels’s discreet downtown apartment. The mayor had left his address on his voice mail, but Jack didn’t need the reminder. After more than a few dinner parties, the route was plenty familiar. Perhaps old Daniels had wanted to make a point with his message. Jack wasn’t the only cock for hire around.

  Outside the unassuming brownstone, Jack took an additional moment to calm his nerves. He had a Viagra tucked into his pocket, just in case. It wouldn’t do to go in there unprepared. Not when old horny Daniels was expecting the full service. He laughed and immediately wondered why he had. Nothing was funny about any of this.

  “So glad you decided to take me up on the invitation, Jack.” Mayor Daniels struck a gallant pose, ushering him past his personal valet into the dimly lit living room. “Would you like a drink?”

  Jack nodded, searching for a place to put his gaze.

  “You look tense, Jack,” Daniels said, as he handed him the tumbler of scotch. How he fucking hated scotch. “It’s just us here. You can relax.” The mayor’s fingers floated to Jack’s belt. “I was so looking forward to seeing you.”

  Jack shut his eyes and willed himself to go numb. This was as good as it got for him. Sex in exchange for power or favors or just to get off. How could he have thought for one stupid moment that he deserved anything better?

  The mayor was on his knees in front of him, where he claimed to be most comfortable. Jack tossed back the scotch and took a fistful of Daniels’s hair. He felt the ginger touch of Daniels’s hand reaching for his zipper.

  Frowning, the mayor looked up. “I’d really like to hear you say it. Tell me to suck your cock.”

  Jack opened his mouth to speak. An ocean of thick, black tar had taken up residence in his throat.

  “I thought you were into this scene, Jack? Don’t tell me I was wrong about you.”

  Jack stumbled backward, snatching at his belt and fastening his pants. He could finally breathe, sucking down big gulps of air and making his chest heave. “Yes… No… Fuck it. I’m done with this.”

  Daniels got up and retrieved a cigar from the humidor on proud display in the middle of his mahogany coffee table. “Why the hell would you want to be done with such a cushy little arrangement? You give me what I need; I give you those no-bid contracts that keep your business in the black.” He clipped the end of the cigar and placed it in the corner of his mouth. “You’re not stupid. You know a good thing when you see it.”

  Jack tore out of the door, taking two steps at a time down the front stairs and onto the sidewalk. People watched with curiosity as he continued to jog down the street.

  He did know a good thing when he saw it. That was the fucking problem.

  * * *

  It took more than a week for the lead forensic engineer the city had lined up to finally get Jack on the phone. She was persistent—he had to give her that.

  “Well Jack, if you were any more difficult to reach, I’d have thought you were dead. I was about ready to have a freakin’ séance.” Molly Burton’s voice was unmistakable, the same engineer who had investigated the Port Authority Bus Terminal debacle.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Molly.” Jack made sure to enunciate her name loud enough for his apparently inept temp assistant to hear.

  “Oh, it’s not her fault that I got through. I told her that I found your cell phone in a cab.”

  He had to laugh. “Sneaky tricks are beneath you, Molly.”

  “Thinking you could get away with sending me a boiler plate e-mail for your statement was just plain ridiculous. You know me better than that.”

  Jack sighed. “Just get on with it, why don’t you?” It wasn’t that he had any real contempt for the indefatigable Molly Burton. The fact was, he respected her no-bullshit approach. He only wished he’d had more time for the knot in his stomach to ease before she forced him to rehash the details of the accident. If he could have erased the entire memory of that day and everything that followed from it, he would have. Jack swatted the eraser shavings from the sketch he’d been drawing and redrawing all morning.

  Molly’s voice softened. “I’m not the enemy, Jack. Not this time at least.”

  Jack took a deep breath and told himself she was telling the truth. If she had thought those blasting orders he’d given Spencer were to blame, she would have sent him a registered letter demanding he appear before the city council.

  Jack thought back to his first bout with the fifty-something investigative engineer. The Port Authority scandal had only happened a year ago. The memory of it still rankled him. If Jack had just been able to do his job without his greedy father skimming off the top, the renovation would have gone perfectly. Instead Jack had ended up looking like an amateur. By the end of it, Rothman Development had been made to pay a hefty settlement to the city, compensating for nearly a million dollars in lost revenues while making the necessary repairs to the floor.

  Essentially his father’s cost-cutting had backfired, resulting in a PR disaster for everyone and a bit more of Jack’s dignity ground to dust. The entire fiasco had been so wholly unnecessary. But Molly’s words ga
ve him hope. If there was a God, maybe he’d spared Jack from the embarrassment of a repeat performance.

  “Have you figured out what caused the water main to rupture?”

  “I’m still gathering data but I doubt it was the blasting you did. Not directly.”

  He sighed, only partly relieved. “But you’re going to torture me with the nitty-gritty details anyway.”

  “I’m nothing if not thorough.” She paused. “Jack, I’m surprised you’re still working there.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Listen, I know it’s a family business, which means it’s completely none of mine, but how is it you graduated at the top of your class at Stanford and decided to get on board Jackson’s sinking ship? You could be so much further in your career by now.”

  The back of Jack’s neck flamed with anger. In his gut he knew that he wasn’t angry with her, not really. Still, it seemed as good a place as any to throw the venom he felt rising in his throat. “Where do you get off? If you have something particular to ask me I advise you to make it known. Otherwise I’m hanging up and you can take my e-mail and shove—”

  “OK, sore spot. I get it,” Molly said with a chuckle.

  Jack gritted his teeth. There was no shaking that old battle-ax. One of the few women in a world of men; it was no wonder she had a set of iron balls. “I’m waiting, Molly.”

  “Spencer Hartley tells me that you made the first detonation around four. Can you confirm that?”

  “You spoke to Spencer already?”

  “He was a lot easier to reach. I’ve been leaving you messages since last Thursday.”

  Jack realized he’d kill to know how Spencer was doing. Molly was his only connection to him. “The accident really freaked him out. I hope he’s OK.”

  “You two were down there for how long?”

  “Six hours or so.”

  “That would freak anyone out. So it was four o’clock when you blew the first set of explosives. Why blow such a small hole? I mean, the vibration was enough to rip a leak in that rickety old pipe, but it wasn’t enough to blow the seal on that tunnel.”