by Mia Carson
“After the talk we had, you slept with her?”
He looked completely baffled. I knew he sometimes blacked out and had sex. He’d done it the night we met. Did he think that meant he wasn’t accountable for his actions?
Scott saw the wrap and the bikini on the chair. An expression of awful guilt washed over his face. “I don’t know what this is. I swear to you, I didn’t touch her.”
I thought of Monica, straddling my fiancé. “You and I are done. Let me off as soon as we can get to land and fly me back to New York. I don’t care about your stupid merger. I don’t care about you. Not if you can have sex with her, then look me in the eye and lie to me.”
“Let’s go to the room and talk this through.”
“Why? You don’t want a scene? You should have thought of that. I should have known a leopard can’t change his spots. I don’t know why I thought you were any different.”
“Kenz, come on! Hear me out!”
“Hear what out?”
“She tricked me into this.”
“She got you drunk and seduced you? I have so much empathy.”
I couldn’t think. Just felt anger. I thought we’d had some kind of breakthrough, some kind of revelation. Thought we liked each other and wanted to try being real. He did a good job of looking baffled. I guess he’d have to be a pretty talented actor to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes all the time.
He grabbed my wrist. I struggled to free myself, but he gripped me hard. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Last night? Or ever? Cause I know you have before.”
“Last night. I swear to you. She set me up. A day ago she told me she’d make me pay, and this is how she did it. Making you think I cheated.”
“She did a great job then. Kudos to her.”
He let me go, and I rubbed at the redness where he held me. “Anne? I know you’re watching. Can you help me get a flight home?”
Anne emerged from the doorway. “Of course, sweetie. We’ll be in Isla Solarte in a few hours.” Her eyes shifted to Scott. “Scott, you could have at least tried to be subtle.”
I hated her for saying that. Hated him for making me look like a fool. At least his merger was a bust. I moved my stuff to a smaller room and waited there to dock. When we did, Anne walked me to the tender and helped me get on board.
Isaac Cornell, to whom I’d not spoken more than two words, hurried out to the tender launch. “Wait,” he called.
“What?” Anne snapped. “She needs to catch her flight.
“He’s telling you the truth,” Cornell said to me. “Giuliana was with me all night. He passed out on the deck chair pretty early, she left her stuff there with him, then came back to the room all night.”
Why would he lie for Scott? Would he?
Anne shook her head. “You don’t know him.”
“Aren’t there cameras?” Cornell asked.
“Of course not,” Anne started.
“Then the bubbles are fake?”
“The cameras are just for security.”
“So they were filming last night?” I asked. Jesus, was Anne in on this with Giuliana?
“Get Percy down here,” Cornell ordered. “And I’m happy to take Mackenzie’s flight away from here. That bitch is crazy. I’m done with her.”
I wasn’t so sure I was ready to give up my spot. I didn’t want to spend another minute with Anne or Giuliana. Cornell yelled to a crewman, who called Percy down. He looked like he’d just woken up.
“Cameras? On all the public decks.” His phrasing made me worry about cameras in the private rooms, but I’d fret about that another time.
“So let’s watch the Lido deck footage from last night.”
The four of us took the elevator up to the bridge, where I’d never been. Nothing fancy nor luxurious here. The complex mechanisms to make sure we got where we wanted to go and didn’t crash or sink filled the room.
One of the crew played the video. I watched Giuliana and Scott talking. Scott nodding off. The drink spilling. She stayed in the chair next to him for a little while. Then she scowled, hard to see on the little screen because the camera was far away, but the expression was unmistakable. She tore off her cover up and draped the gauzy fabric over him. She undid her bikini top and laid it on her freshly vacated chair. Then she stormed off. I thought I saw tears before she whipped her head around.
We fast forwarded through the rest of the night. Scott rolled over twice, but mostly just lay crashed on the deck chair.
I brought a hand to my lips. “Where is he? I have to find him.”
I ran from the bridge, circling all the decks. The tender departed, carrying Isaac Cornell to safety and away from this madhouse.
Of course Scott was in the gym, sweat streaming off his face, his shirt soaked through. In the moment before I saw him, the expression on his face was pure misery.
“Scott!” He hopped off the treadmill, and a glimmer of hope washed over his expression. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I never should have doubted you. I was so wrong.” I hugged him even though he was a sweaty mess.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”
“I know,” I said. I did know.
Scott
I showered, changed, and went to find Percy, Mackenzie at my side. She’d changed into slacks and a sweatshirt when she’d decided to leave the yacht.
“I’m so sorry,” Percy told me. “Anne was upset about what happened with Giuliana and thought you shouldn’t get the merger. I think you have a good head for this work, no matter who you marry. It’s going to make Anne mad as hell, but I want the deal to go through.”
This was not how I wanted to win it, but with that much money, I couldn’t be too picky. We shook on it.
“My lawyers will draw something up for you later today. I’ll call them this afternoon.”
We discussed a couple things, shook again, and left. We’d decided to leave the yacht today, so I returned to our room to pack my things. Kenz didn’t seem as excited as I’d hoped, and I couldn’t put my finger on why. I stuffed things in my suitcase, and she paced, most of her attention on the lionfish. Finally, she spoke. “I have to tell you something.”
God, I hate those words. Up there with we have to talk.
“What’s up?” I struggled for a light tone, especially after the morning we’d had. I wanted to go lie on a beach, drink a hundred margaritas, and forget about most of the people on this boat. If I could get all that and some crazy sex with my wife, I’d die a happy man. Her tone, though, didn’t suggest forthcoming sex.
“When I came here, my boss told me I had to tank the merger. Told me if I didn’t, he’d go to the police about what I’ve been doing with you. It’s fraudulent.”
Anger flooded me. “He told you to do this. He sent you to trap me.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes, leaving a streak of mascara.
“So that’s going to happen now. I’m going to get in trouble. I was so relieved when Giuliana told me that it wouldn’t be happening. Though I was upset I wouldn’t get the money from you…” She sucked in a big breath. “Scott…”
I took her hands. She was shaking. “It’s okay.” It was. I’d make it okay.
“This is stupid. You’re going to laugh at me.”
“I would never, ever do that. I brought you into a viper pit.”
“At some point, it stopped being about the money.”
I’d been stroking her hand with my thumb and stopped. She completely misinterpreted the gesture and yanked her hands away. “I know, it’s stupid. I’m a dumb little country girl, falling in love with a millionaire.”
I wanted to correct her. Billionaire. That seemed tacky and distasteful, though, and completely missed the point that she’d said love.
“Kenz.”
“Don’t, please.”
“Kenz, you and I can get through whatever your idiot boss throws at us. I don’t think he understands what my lawyers can do. I hate to think about what you went th
rough with his threats hanging over your head. I’d be saying this even if the merger failed. I’ve fallen in love with you, Mackenzie Taylor. I love you.”
Jeez, how long had it been since I’d said that to a woman. Too long. I felt like I’d wasted years and years of my life, forgetting what really mattered.
Mackenzie blinked at me with her big blue eyes. “Really?” Her word came out the barest whisper, a squeak.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She flung herself at me, almost knocking me over, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my neck. I rubbed her back and held her. Cradled her against me.
“One more piece of business to clear up,” I told her, and her body stiffened against me.
“What?”
“Since we’re married and in love, let’s forget the money, and just let me pay off your debts today.”
She pulled back and gazed up at me. “It’s too much. You can help me—”
“Whatever you need. I’m here to help.” I’d made her uncomfortable, so I distracted her with a kiss that started out timid but full of emotional need. Lots of quick, wet little pecks. I needed her just as much as she needed me. She made me feel like a person. I liked myself more when I was with her—especially now that our relationship wasn’t all business and subterfuge. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this good.
A shift happened, and the kisses lingered longer. Our tongues came to play. I kissed her neck and pulled her sweatshirt to the side, lavishing attention on her shoulder. She kissed my clavicle and bent her head down to my lap. She took the string of my board shorts in her teeth and untied them so she could pull my cock free. I wasn’t quite hard yet, but a few minutes in her mouth changed that quickly.
I wanted to grab her hair. Wanted to thrust into her… but I let her run the show. I lay back on the big bed and focused on loving her and the way she took me in her mouth, wrapping her tongue around my shaft, cupping my balls. Her mouth knew exactly what needed to be done, and she executed her task with perfection. She drank my seed like a pro, licking me clean after. Part of me wanted to close my eyes and fall asleep. A bigger part of me wanted to hear her moan with pleasure, watch her body writhe with delight as I made her come.
“It’s cold in here,” I murmured. “Come out to the hot tub with me.”
She stood up and pulled the sweatshirt off. Her breasts bounced free. I could watch them for hours, especially on the rare occasions when she didn’t wear a bra. She pulled her pants off, revealing plain cotton underwear. After so many days of seeing her with none—which was equally hot—these made me want her three times as much. She moved to take them off.
“Stop.” I got off the bed and moved to kneel before her on the plush carpet. I drank in her pleasant, clean smell. I truly loved pleasuring my wife. I gestured at the yacht around us. “Maybe I’ll get one of these.”
“I still can’t believe that’s, like, an option. You could just, what, go to the yacht store and pick one up?”
I laughed. “Something like that. They don’t have them sitting around like cars to buy. You have to have one made special.”
“You must be able to get a used one somewhere.”
I stood up and opened my mouth to argue that it wouldn’t be the same. I wouldn’t have everything built to my specifications. What if the yacht wasn’t laid out quite the way I wanted? But she was right. There were used yachts, and they were significantly cheaper. It didn’t matter, not really, but it would probably be a better investment. I draped my arms around her shoulders instead.
“I could put a drawing studio at the front of the ship,” she said. “A drafting table looking out over our path, giving me a view of where we are going.”
This surprised me. “I didn’t think you drew. You said you don’t have an artistic bone in your body.”
I’d seen Giuliana make Mackenzie blush. I’d made her blush myself on more than one occasion. But I’d never seen the deep tomato color on her cheeks like this. She stammered, mumbled, and tried to backtrack.
“It’s okay. It’s really cool. I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide something like that from me.”
“I’m not very good,” she tried.
“I don’t believe you.”
She laughed. “You should. You know how many people, younger than me, are trying to draw comics?”
“Comics?” This was a whole side of her I hadn’t seen before. I felt like a kid at Christmas unwrapping a present.
For whatever reason, she couldn’t look me in the eye. “I decided to stay with you—in the beginning—because I thought if all my debt was paid off, I might actually have a shot at being a comic artist. I’ve been working on an idea to pitch to them. I mean, it kinda sucks because I’m not a writer, I’m just an artist, but I think I might be commercially viable.”
“As someone who’s legitimately not creative, the process fascinates me. So for you it’s less about the story and more about the art?”
“In real, mainstream comics, the artists get very little say in story stuff. For most of them, it’s just ‘here, illustrate these panels.’ There’s some collaboration, but not a whole lot. It’s more flexible with the indy comics, but there’s no money there.”
I laughed. Money again. When would she learn that for her, money was no longer an issue? Would never be again. I pulled her close and kissed her, but she squirmed uncomfortably.
“When do I get to see some of your work?”
She let out a bark of a laugh and did a typical Mackenzie move, sitting down and curling in on herself, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. We sat in silence for a moment.
“It’s really okay if I quit my job when we get home?”
I thought about everything she’d told me about her boss. “It’s better than okay. Your boss sounds awful.”
She grudgingly nodded. “He is. You’re sure you can protect me if he tries to send the police after me?”
“I can’t imagine what kind of case he’d have against you, but whatever they think they have, my lawyers can handle it.” I’d seen them weasel their clients out of some pretty precarious scrapes. This one, at least, they’d be on the morally right side, which wasn’t always the case.
I kissed the side of her head. We went to meet the tender, back after depositing Isaac Cornell on shore. Percy would have a hell of a time with Anne and Giuliana. Have fun, kids.
Mackenzie
We got back to New York a week later, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed and refreshed. We stepped off Scott’s plane into the spring day. His apartment would look different to me now, I knew. Our apartment. I’d move out of the guest room and into his master suite. I couldn’t wait to see the apartment again, knowing it was my home. I couldn’t believe the changes since I’d left. How could I be so lucky?
There was one thought that I had been firmly pushing away from my mind—I had to quit my job. Scott had offered to come with me, and I desperately wanted to take him up on it. He offered to have his lawyer send a letter, but I told him no. I’d deal with Mr. Fallon myself.
Scott unlocked the door, and the afternoon sun drenched the apartment in subtle, warm light. It didn’t look sterile and cold like I remembered; it looked like a place I could call home. We’d talked about making the third bedroom into a studio for me. For now, though, he’d put a desk in his office, giving me my own little space there. We also talked about me taking some drawing and graphic design classes.
All my debt was gone. He hadn’t even blinked, just transferred money into my account; I made the payments, and all my balances read zero. All the cards were paid off, and the collection agencies satiated. I was completely debt-free. I had asked him if he was sure about a million times.
“Do you want me to show you my balance sheets? This is going to sound crude, but the amount is basically the equivalent of me buying you a really nice dinner. I want to do this for you. It’s not going to hurt me, and the longer we hold
your debt, the more interest we’re going to pay. How can you be creative when you’re stressing about money?”
So I decided to sublet my apartment, got rid of all my payments, and let Scott buy me a new Mercedes, paid for in full. I’d never felt so free in my life. I wanted to tell someone but didn’t feel it was right. So I kept my happiness to myself, and for the first time in a long time I was not kicking myself over the money I’d spent on my almost-wedding.
The next day—Monday—I drove my new Mercedes to my office. Scott asked me, again, if I wanted him to come with me, and each time I’d told him no. “I know where to find you. I’ll call if I need you.” I was determined not to call. This was for me to do on my own.
I walked into the hushed ambience with everyone watching as I crossed the floor to Mr. Fallon’s corner office. I was tanned and thinner, and the outfit I wore cost about six months’ salary at my soon-to-be previous job. My head high, I walked through with all the confidence I could muster. My time in the sun had bleached highlights into my hair, the kind I didn’t usually get until August because I was stuck in this dump of an office.
I didn’t knock. I saw myself into Mr. Fallon’s office, breezing past Stephanie, his admin assistant. She gawked at me, but Mr. Fallon waved her off. He actually stood up and came around his desk to me. The blinds were drawn in his windows, giving the room a cave-like feel. The room had a faint old-pastrami smell, too, probably something rotting in the trash.
“I read in the Wall Street Journal that the merger went through. What the hell were you doing out there?”
“I quit.”
He laughed in my face, and I felt his spit spray me. Ugh. “You can’t quit. I own you, Taylor.”
“Scott’s lawyers think otherwise.”
“You’re kidding me. You think you’re staying with him? What, you think you’re in love?”
I didn’t let his words bother me. I knew we were in love. “It’s working out well for Mr. Creed, and he’s made the arrangement worth my while.” I thought of lying underneath him as he pleasured me, of the way his face contorted as he came. Of holding his hand in the tropical sun on a remote beach.