by Dakota Lee
“Isn’t this your father’s country club?”
“How did you know?”
“I remember you mentioning it, when you couldn’t meet me for lunch last semester. You were upset about having to dine with old men eating smoked caviar.”
“I was upset I had to leave you. The truth is there are plenty of people our age who eat here and the lunch buffet is actually pretty good.” Scanning the tables, I say, “Although for this event I’m not sure what the food options are. Could be standard fare, or our folks could’ve ordered a chef from Paris.”
“Is your mom here?” She asks, holding up her notebook as if preparing to write a quote.
“No. I’ll probably talk to her later and tell her all about it, if my dad doesn’t beat me to it.”
“Well, enjoy your party.”
I watch as she walks to the corner of the room to help Drew set up his video equipment before my attention is pulled away by someone calling my name. Stifling a sigh, I greet a woman I supposedly shared ice cream with as a kid. I don’t remember her, but then again, I seldom remember any of the daughters when their father’s mention them.
The woman is talking, but I barely hear her. My attention is on Jordanna. She looks poised but I know her tells. She’s playing with a chain around her neck which means she’s nervous and her eyes keep shifting to the front door. I understand her hesitancy to be here. A few of the guests were at the auction. But none of them will say anything to her. I’ve got pictures, videos, and unpublished articles of them or their family members doing much worse.
* * *
It’s an hour later when I finally catch a break. Walking up to Jordanna, I say, “They’ll start serving soon. Did you find your seat?”
“I’m not a guest. I don’t have a seat.”
“We feed our photographers and newspaper staff.”
She scribbles something in the book she’s holding before tucking it back in her bag. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll just eat when I get back to campus.”
Drew is already at a table. He doesn’t seem to have any problem with taking a break for sustenance, and I’m not gonna let her go all day without eating. Slipping the camera off her shoulder, I press my hand against her back, moving her towards our table overlooking the golf course. I pull out the chair next to me, not bothering to check whose name card is on it, and remove my jacket, rolling the sleeves of my shirt up to my forearms. Reaching over, I open her menu, and say, “Order anything you want. I mean it, the food here is amazing.”
“You’re not going to order for me?”
“Why would I?”
“Because I hear that’s what controlling billionaires like to do.”
If she’s being sarcastic, that means she’s settling in. “I can make suggestions, but I’d rather you order for yourself, so in the off chance that you don’t like it, you can’t blame me.” Leaning closer, I whisper, “I’ve already got enough to overcome to get you to trust me again.”
“Son?” I stand as my dad and Simon’s parents approach the table. Momentarily forgetting whatever he was going to say, he takes in Jordanna with a sweeping arch of his brow, before he breaks out his party smile. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Dad, this is Jordanna Felding.”
Now, he’s looking at her, the way he looks at writers when they pitch ideas to him. As if he’s trying to decide if there’s a story worth pursing. “Ah. Yes, the scholarship student.”
Her back stiffens and her chin juts up. “There’s a lot more to me than just the negative zeros in my bank account, Mr. McKay.”
If my dad’s surprised by her response, he doesn’t show it. He rounds the table and takes his seat. I sit back in mine.
“I agree.” He says. “The article you wrote on the correlation between digital currency and cyber security was informative, and your term paper on ancient women in philosophy was thought provoking. It’s refreshing to see you dove into history books and scrolls for the real story, instead of relying on Wikipedia or the internet the way so many people do today.”
Wait. How the hell does he know about her articles and research papers? She wrote those before she came to VDU.
“As you well know, Mr. McKay, Wikipedia isn’t a reliable research tool. I can post anything I want on those pages. Besides, old papers and moldy books, have the unvarnished truth attached to them. Facts that often get lost or buried with each new edition of a textbook or rag magazine.”
Dad’s lips twitch. No one calls The Star Gazette a rag magazine, even if they think it is. “As a businessman I have to think about more than one way to pay the bills. The articles published in The Star will never win a Nobel prize, but they generate lots of ad revenue. If you want more grit on a National Geographic level, read The Daily Scroll.”
“I used to until…”
“Until?”
“Until we moved to Kingsley Bluffs. School incidentals were more important than renewing my subscription, to your paper.”
Nodding, he asks, “You have Wynn for Interpersonal Communications?”
“I do.”
“Then I look forward to reading your paper on inter human conflict and the shaping of the world.” Turning to the server, he tells him to bring over another chair and set a place. “I hope you don’t mind holding off on ordering until everyone else arrives.” Looking towards the door, his lips stretch into a smile. “Ah, here they are now.”
I shift in my seat, stifling a groan. Now I know whose seat I’ve given away. Thank fuck.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper right before the guests reach the table. Ever the dutiful host, I introduce my cousins Gina and Aiden and his girlfriend Claire. Then I order a drink for Jordanna and myself. We're gonna need it.
Gina’s asking Jordy the usual questions about her family. Her voice is strong, yet subdued when she says, “My father passed away when I was fourteen. My mother’s an interior decorator, and my-”
"That's how I know you." Gina says, cutting her off, and punctuating her comment with a handclap. “You’re Penn Waldorf’s daughter.”
“Step-daughter.” Jordanna responds through clenched teeth. This is the first time I’ve seen her express such disdain for someone other than me. And even the dose I get is mild compared to the way she ground out those words and her body is vibrating.
Gina rambles on. “I’ve been trying to track you down for my research paper.”
“I’m sorry?” I’m sure the confusion on Jordan’s face matches my own. Still, I notice she cuts her eyes at me as if I’ve set her up in some type of way.
“Oh, right.” Gina stabs her scallop with her fork. “I have to do a project on ethical quandaries and who has a better, more current one than you? The girl who sent her dad to prison.”
“That's not-”
“What Uncle Davis and everyone were printing.” Gina says, waving her fork around. “You're right. But I was following this since before it gained national mega news attention. I read your original article. It was amazing. You go to school with Logan now?” Gina glances over at me, smiling like she’s just learned a secret. “I guess now I know why I couldn't find you.”
Everyone at the table’s looking at Jordy now, and I mean really looking at her in a way that would generally make her ready to dig her heels in for a fight. Stroking her cheek, I say, “It seems you have a fan.”
Simon’s dad’s attention falls on her. “So, you're a writer too, young lady?”
"And a painter and photographer." I say, placing my hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.
She shifts, opening her legs, and answers, "Photographer is a stretch. And my paintings could use more color."
I admire the calm on Jordy’s face, and her ability to continue the conversation. No one would ever suspect my hand is coming dangerously close to the triangle of her panties. With each caress, her body unclenches, and her breathing takes on a different cadence.
Dad signals for another decatur of bourbon, and we each refill o
ur glasses while Jordanna sips her daiquiri. I slip my hand around the back of her neck and whisper so no one can hear. "One more of those and I might not be able to wait to get you home."
Her eyes are steady over her glass as they meet mine while she takes another sip. When she lowers her glass, her lips twitch in an effort to hide a smile. Good, my distraction is working. Though I meant what I said about not being sure I can wait. Dad excuses himself to take a call and Simon’s parents go to speak to someone at another table. As soon as they step away, Claire who’s been fake smiling all through lunch, drops the pretense.
"So how long have the two of you been fucking?"
My voice is a quiet warning when I say her name. “Claire."
“I have a right to ask. Was it before you dumped me, or was she the reason you were suddenly no longer into me?” Swiping a non-existent drop of moisture from her eyes, she says, “I know we had an arrangement, but you threw it all away and never explained why. I was devastated thinking I’d done something to embarrass you or your family, but now, I know.”
Devastated my ass. Flicking my gaze to Aiden, I snort, “You seem to have recovered.”
“Your cousin was there for me. You can't blame me for wanting his comfort.”
My dad was definitely hinting at the suggestion that I should make my arrangement with Claire more permanent. But she’s right. I got caught up with things at school and never called her again. She’s dating Aiden now, but I see the way she looks at me. She’d let me fuck her on the table, with him watching, if I said I wanted to start things up again. “More like you wanted a way to stay in my life.”
“That’s preposterous. I'm over you.”
“Then why bring it up, Claire?”
She ignores my question, turning her attention back to Jordanna. “Don't get too comfortable. He does this all the time.”
“Share a meal with his dad?” Jordanna responds coolly.
"Wines and dines women then discards them after he's bored with fucking them."
Jordanna’s smile is polite and sweet. Innocent even, and I know that what’s about to come out of her mouth will be anything but. “Then it's a good thing I'm paying him by the hour, isn't it?” That response gets Simon and Tabitha to stop bickering long enough to tune into the conversation.
Claire stammers, “W-What?”
"Popular guy." Jordanna points to me. “Geeky awkward girl.” She says, pointing to herself. “I’m paying him to make me polished enough not to make a fool of myself in public.” She shifts in her seat, turning to look at me. "How'm I doing so far?"
My dad’s voice booms behind us. “Well, that sounds like an enterprising idea, but I suspect Logan is hanging out with you in spite of the pocket change.”
"I don't know Mr. McKay. You didn't see me before the makeover."
My dad clasps me on his shoulder as he passes on his way back to his seat. “Kinda hard to improve on natural beauty. It'd be like trying to re-pen a perfect sonnet or adjusting the tint on a magnificent sunset. Isn't that right, son?”
Jordy flashes my dad a smile. “Thank you for saying so. I see where Logan gets his charm.”
"Nah. He gets that from his mom. His ruthlessness. That'd all be me. Speaking of…"
The time for small talk is over and dad launches into his favorite topic. The future of McKay Media. Jordanna listens to us bicker and argue through most of it. Right before desert arrives, she texts something on her phone. Seconds later my own buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at it.
She excuses herself from the table. Seconds later, I’m following after her. She slips into a room in the back of the club that’s for members only. But Jordanna doesn’t care. Her panties are off before the door closes behind me and her hands are in my pants, pulling my dick out. I don’t know what I did to earn this type of spontaneity from her, but whatever it is, I’m glad I did. Mere seconds pass before I’m lined up with her opening. I enter her with one quick stroke.
I hiss, sinking inside her heat. That first pulse of her around me always catches me off guard.
“Mmm. Maybe I should bring you to brunch more often.” I pull back then push in, swirling my hips, trying to add pressure to her clit. We’re up against the cherry wood table the men play poker at on Friday nights. Our bodies move together. It’s rough and animalistic and the most intense fuck I’ve had in years. The door opens and I look to my right, seeing Claire in the doorway watching. Jordy turns and sees her too, but instead of asking me to stop, she wraps her legs tighter around me and turns my face towards her, claiming my lips in a brutal kiss. I feel her hand between us, rubbing furiously against her clit. She clamps around me and I ride her through it, forgetting all about the woman standing behind me.
Jordanna
Pepper greets me when I walk into the sunroom. “Hello, dear.” Her perusal leaves no part of me unseen. “My, you’ve been busy.”
“Keeping tabs on me?”
“Not at all, but there’s a new poise to the way you walk. A spring in your step, and an enigmatic smile that only a woman with a juicy little secret could pull off. I take it things are progressing well.”
Nodding, I take my usual seat. “Things are going better than I expected at school and with my research project on your heirloom.”
Smiling, she says, “That’s wonderful news. Tell me everything.”
It feels good to be able talk to someone, holding nothing back. If things were different, I’d tell Summer, my mother, or even Tiff and Marina about what’s been happening. But as much as they love me, I know none of them would support me in this. So all I have is Pepper. The woman who believes I deserve restitution, and has been coaching me through this.
We’re halfway through the game, and I’ve just summed up what my next step is with the makeup case, when she brings up someone we’ve never talked about before. Penn.
“Before you get touchy and close down, I know how you feel about him. The trial is starting soon, and I suspect media coverage will pick up. How are you and your family dealing with it?”
“The same way we always have. We say no comment and barricade the doors and windows. I guess that’s another reason to thank you. So far, nobody’s sneaking on campus to question me.”
“If you feel your mother and sister need security, I could arrange it.”
“That would only make them stand out more and open us up to questions about where the money came from to hire a security detail.”
“If you change your mind, you only have to ask.”
Sitting with thoughts of Penn swirling through my mind makes me careless on my next move.
Of course Pepper notices. “Jordanna, is everything alright?”
“I was just thinking about something.”
“Yes, and whatever it was, is not this game. I haven’t seen you make that move since our first few games.”
“Bella said something once, and I didn’t pay it any attention.”
“From what I remember, you don’t pay anything she says much attention. So whatever it is that’s still with you, must’ve been profound.”
“She said she didn’t like me because of what Penn did. I didn’t think much of it, because he ran an investment firm. But now that I’m thinking about it, why hasn’t anyone really tried to interview me? There’s a large chunk of money that was never found. If it belonged to the families here, shouldn’t they want to know if mom or I know where it is?”
“Do you know where it is?”
“I do not. And the way mom struggled, if I did, I would have said something by now just to collect the reward.”
“Unless you know and are keeping it for yourself.”
“Right, hence the reason I needed a scholarship.”
“The best way not to get caught is by being discrete. It’s the flashy bold moves that draw the most attention.”
And once again, Pepper has given me a path forward.
Twenty-Three
Logan
“Looks like you’ve co
me up with a plan for our favorite toy.” Frankie says as I slide into my seat. I assume he’s talking about Jordanna being at the country club.
“I’m keeping an eye on her like you all wanted.”
“Is that all?”
“No harm in having a little fun while I’m doing it. Right?”
He smiles, thrusting his pelvis. “Oh yeah, man. I know what kind of fun you mean.”
Hal disregards the no smoking rule, and lights a blunt. He takes a long hit and tilts his head back, letting out a ring of smoke. “Maybe this time we can all get a turn. That tight ass. Man, I’d fuck it until it split wide open.”
He looks like he’s not paying attention, but I know Hal’s watching me through the smoke. “I got first on popping that cherry, but when I’m done, you’re welcome to try to get yours.”
I swallow the bile in my throat, and muffle the rage in my belly, at the thought of him going anywhere near Jordanna. When I’m done, there won’t be anything left for anyone else.
* * *
I pull into the driveway of my childhood home, and enter through the side door to avoid the staff, taking the back staircase up to my wing. I prefer my studio for unwinding, but this weekend I need a different sense of normalcy.
I haven’t seen my sister and brother since the holidays. They have a free weekend from school, and we’re using it to hang out. Here’s hoping Ava doesn’t expect me to play dress up. It was cute when she was three, but now it’s just weird. Unless we’re talking about Jordy in a dominatrix outfit. That’s just hot, and not at all the thoughts I should be having during a weekend of bonding with my siblings.
“Why do I have to do my homework if I’m on a break?” I hear my brother Hunter asking as I pass the second floor landing.