Carol was right. They did have quite a few things in common—though not, thank God, all.
Ari would never wish on another human being what she herself had had to face.
So she smiled, and said, “Do you know what? We should have a girls’ night, or something. Maybe…” Ari thought of all the things she’d been looking forward to being able to do when she got older, before her life had been completely derailed by the man her mother had married. “Maybe we could have a sleepover!”
“Oh! That is a fabulous idea! What do girls do at a sleepover, anyway?”
Ari didn’t for one moment think Carol’s question was absurd. Her first impression of the young woman had been of a girl raised far too sheltered. She tried to think of what she’d heard happened at sleepovers, but someone else answered Carol’s question.
“Usually they do each other’s hair and makeup and talk about sex.” Tasha Garwood stepped into the reception area. “They listen to their favorite music, indulge in their favorite foods and drinks, and stay up very, very late.” She shook her head. “Have neither of you ever had a sleepover with girlfriends?”
Ari met Carol’s gaze. Then they looked at Tasha and shook their heads “no.”
“Well, that’s just not right.” Tasha looked shocked. She switched her gaze between them, as if she couldn’t quite believe what they’d just told her. “We absolutely have to do something about that!”
“We have to do something about what?” Chloe came into the reception area from the back.
The Jessops’ week-long honeymoon had been delayed for a couple of weeks after their wedding. Chloe had been back only a couple of days, and Ari thought she looked very contented.
The spa was due to open in about ten minutes. They all of them had appointments first thing. Ari’s schedule was full, which was gratifying.
“These young ladies have never had a sleepover. Can you believe it?”
Chloe just looked at Tasha, her brown eyes blinking slowly. “Um…are you sure about that, Tasha?”
All four of them burst out laughing.
“I meant like a girls’ night sleepover.” Tasha was still laughing and could barely get the words out.
“Oh my God, really? You’re right! We have to do something about that!”
Ari saw the light in her boss’s eyes and knew that Chloe was already plotting something. And then it hit her. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she fit in. She’d worked and lived in several places in her life, but never felt as if she belonged.
Now she knew she belonged here, in Lusty, and she damn sure belonged with these wonderful women.
“Thank you.” The words emerged, and she couldn’t have thought to hold them back—or hold back the sheen that she felt in her eyes. “I’ve been kind of a bitch since I started here, but you didn’t, any of you, let it stop you from being my friends. You didn’t let it affect how you treated me. So thank you.”
“Oh, honey.” Chloe gave her a hug. Then she set her back, her hands on her arms and met her gaze. “You were never a bitch. You were alone, and hurting. And now you’re not.”
“No. Now I’m not.” Ari looked over at her other coworkers. “And I am so very grateful for that.”
Chloe’s grin simply lifted her spirits even higher. “Now you leave this little matter of a missing girls’ night sleepover to me.” She looked at Carol, then back to her.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ari was happy to leave the planning of something she didn’t know anything about to her outgoing, newlywed boss.
Tasha unlocked the front door of the spa. “Let the games begin!”
It wasn’t hard to tie Tasha’s statement into Chloe’s. Ari met Carol’s gaze and realized that she wasn’t the only one to be just the tiniest bit afraid.
* * * *
“What do we have to do to make it official?” Cord and Jackson were having lunch with Jake Kendall at Lusty Appetites. They’d spent the morning over in Divine, at a jeweler recommended to them by Chloe’s husbands, and had picked out a design for the ring that they would give to Ari.
Clay Cook had told them it would be ready in two weeks, which was a lot sooner than they’d expected, but which suited them both just fine.
They had decided to stay in Lusty and take Jake and Grandma Kate up on their offer. The six hundred and fifty acres that was one of the parcels Sarah Carmichael Benedict had set aside for returning family was theirs if they wanted it—and they did.
Technically not part of the Town Trust, they could hold title to the land. The only codicil to the deal was that it could only be sold or bequeathed to a member of the families.
“I’ll draw up the sales contract and have it ready for you to sign later this afternoon. You haven’t even asked how much it costs.”
“It doesn’t matter what it costs. We have money,” Jackson said. “We invested three-quarters of our paychecks from football. Our investments have done very well.”
Jake smirked. “Yeah, the ability to make a lot more out of a lot is something that all Benedicts and Kendalls share. It’s the Benedict way, and how Kendalls do things.”
“What about the Jessops?”
“Yeah, Jessops are like that, too. Does either of you happen to have a Benji on you?”
Cord looked at his brother, one eyebrow raised. Jackson shrugged. Cord reached for his wallet. He figured that the immediate exchange of the one hundred dollar bill was sort of like a down payment, a way of making the offer to purchase official.
He fished out the bill and handed it over to Jake.
“Great. One six hundred and fifty acre plot of land, paid in full.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. You do know that Kate knew Sarah, quite well, actually. She’s often told me that Sarah, Amanda, and Sarah’s daughter-in-law who became Kate’s mother-in-law, Madeline, became her best friends and biggest cheerleaders. On the rare occasions that her husbands ticked her off, those venerable ladies made their lives difficult, until they apologized.”
“We’re slow learning the history of this branch of the family, although we did know about Sarah and how her father had arranged an unfortunate first marriage for her.”
Jake shook his head. “You’ll have to come over to dinner sometime soon. Our Ginny has a way with telling our family history that’s quite entertaining.”
Cord looked over at his brother. “Anytime, we’d be pleased to have dinner with you.”
“That’s ‘y’all.’ You’re Texans now.”
Damned if Cord didn’t realize that Jake was pulling his leg.
“You were telling us something about Sarah and why that acreage is such a bargain basement price?”
Jake nodded. “Kate said that Sarah was very saddened when Emerson left—not just that he left but that he insulted everything she and her husbands had built. Mostly, she was furious that he’d more or less denigrated his own parents in the process and deserted them.”
“We both remember Grandfather Emerson, of course. He was…rigid in his ways,” Cord said. “And not a happy man at all.”
“Our own father has a bit of his father’s stiff-necked attitude.” Jackson met Jake’s gaze. “He likes to think of himself as the head of a dynasty, because he’s the oldest among his siblings…but of course, our uncles don’t see it quite that way. The Benedicts of Montana are nowhere near close in the way the ones of Lusty, Texas, are.”
“The concept of family really is a lot different here,” Cord said. “Don’t get us wrong, we love our folks, and our own siblings, and our extended family. Did you know our sister, Veronica, is a published author?”
Jake grinned. “I did, because Kate told me. Kate’s read all of her books, of course.”
“We’re very proud of her,” Jackson said. “We haven’t told her about Sarah’s legacy, but we are trying to talk her into coming for a visit.” Then he lowered his voice. “And trying to think of a way to make her stay here. I think Texas will be healthier for her.”
“I believe Kate’s working on that, too.” Jake picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “Family is family, and family comes first. Sarah didn’t want Emerson’s, or any of the Benedict, Kendall, or Jessop descendants to be disadvantaged because of their antecedents’ decisions or attitudes. So she set several parcels of land aside, in case they returned and wanted their own in this area. And any others who wish to, can settle here and lease like the rest of us do. And even though she knew the price of things was bound to rise—had, in fact, skyrocketed since she and her husbands settled here—she decreed that the cost of each parcel was to be the same, just one hundred dollars.”
“Well, we’re certainly grateful for this opportunity. We don’t expect a free ride just because we’re Benedicts,” Jackson said.
“A chance, and the milder winters were two of the reasons we were interested in coming here. I guess you know by now what the main reason was.”
“You’d grown up wanting to share a wife.” Jake grinned. “It really is in the genes, I think.”
“We’re going to propose to Ari, as soon as the ring is ready.” Cord said that quietly.
Jake nodded. “I kind of got that impression when we had that little summit meeting at your place.”
“Any news on that front?”
“Yeah, the would-be kingmaker has left Austin and is on his way to Houston. Our people are keeping an eye on him. He has her name—we’re not sure how that came about—so it’s likely only a matter of time before he contacts her.” Then Jake frowned. “Someone else is looking for her, too. We almost have a line on him. He’s being very furtive, and seems to be damn good at covering his tracks, electronically speaking. On the surface, I’d have to say that can’t be good.”
“You’ll keep us informed?” Beside him, Jackson had tensed.
“Absolutely.”
“There is just one more thing about the ranch. We’ll want to have a house built. Is there a company you could suggest, one that would design and build? And we expect to pay the proper amount for that.”
“My brother, Jordan, is a contractor. If he can’t fit you in for the timeline you have in mind, he’ll recommend someone who can.”
“Perfect. We’ll give him a call and—” Cord’s cell phone rang, the tone one that he’d assigned to his father.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s Dad. Excuse me for a moment.”
“Old man doesn’t call unless it’s important,” Jackson said.
Cord agreed and quickly answered the call.
“Hi, Dad. How are you?”
“Cordaniel James, I realize that you and your brother are grown men. I no longer have any control—not that I ever did— or say over your life choices. However, I would have expected you to use at least a modicum of discretion, if only out of consideration for your mother’s more modest sensibilities.”
His father never wasted time on the niceties—like saying hello or asking how he or his brother was doing. Usually he just got right to the point. This time, however, Cord could only blink and meet his brother’s gaze, raising one eyebrow.
“Um, Dad? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I guess that is because that backwater bed of iniquity that you’re living in at the moment doesn’t get the National Tattletale.”
“The National Tattletale? What the…Dad, could you just tell me what it is you’re upset about?”
Cord noticed that Jake had immediately grabbed his laptop, and seemed to be keying furiously. Before his father answered, Jake swore. Then he flipped the small computer around so that Cord and Jackson could see what he’d found.
The photo under the bold headline wasn’t grainy at all. He even knew when it had been taken—during their “picnic” last week—though he had no idea how it had been taken, or by whom. It did have certain body parts covered with a tiny black rectangle, but not the eyes, as was sometimes the case when risqué photos were shared in a publication.
His father was talking, but Cord wasn’t listening. The date on the paper was today, and the headline was attention grabbing all on its own.
The Wonder Twins Have Found A New Sport: Double-Team Sex
But the photo…that was the worst, because Ari’s face was completely visible as she gave Jackson a blow job while he had fucked her from behind.
His father’s words slowly penetrated. “…expect you to do something about this at once. Clearly the hooker you and your brother engaged for your little romp set you up. I would have thought you’d at least be smart…”
“Shut up, Dad.” He’d never dared say such a thing to his father, which was likely why his father did just that. “Ari’s not a hooker, she’s the woman we’re going to marry, and the only person whose tender sensibilities I’m concerned with right now. I do appreciate the heads-up. I’ll get back to you when I can.”
He hung up the phone and met Jackson’s gaze. “We have to tell her right now, before someone else does.”
Jackson nodded. “And we have to figure that son of a bitch looking for her is going to know where she is now.”
Cord nodded, and looked over at Jake. He didn’t know the man that well, but he could see he was furious.
“I’m going to call Adam, and get those two investigators involved in this. We’ll find out who and how with regard to this photo. Then, I promise you, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Cord couldn’t have said it better himself.
Chapter 18
Frank Mills couldn’t take his eyes off the picture. Usually, rags like the National Tattletale presented their audience with grainy, hard-to-see photos of an obviously questionable quality. In this case, there could be no doubt whatsoever in what the reader was looking at—some of those readers, he imagined, over their morning cereal.
“Well, Connie baby, you sure have come up in the world. You’ve hooked yourself a couple of world-class johns. What’s it like, having The Wonder Twins paying for your cunt and your mouth?” From the look on her face, she thoroughly loved her profession.
Mills wondered what the congressman was going to think of the situation. This put one hell of a crimp in Mills’s plan, that was for damn sure. He’d hoped to get an affidavit from the bitch to use against Bishop at some point between his winning his Senate seat and his run for the White House. He’d quietly get rid of her sometime later, and everything would have been neat and tidy.
But maybe all was not lost.
Maybe there was something he could hold over the man’s head that would be an even greater threat to him than exposure as a pedophile would be. He turned the idea over in his mind. If Mills had gone ahead and used that affidavit, it would be a question of the word of a dead whore versus the word of a United States Senator. Logically, this turn of events could potentially be better for him. The key would be to get Bishop to authorize what he had in mind, and get that authorization on the record.
Mills didn’t know very much about all this fucking technology that seemed to be everywhere these days. But he’d gotten his hands on a few little items he wasn’t technically supposed to have, and those he knew how to operate.
He thought of one assistant director of a special covert intelligence agency who he’d played, and played well. The man hadn’t minded trading the incriminating evidence Mills had for a special recording device that he could connect to his smartphone.
This wasn’t something to do in his hotel room. Having just a bit of paranoia in his own makeup, Mills called down for his rental car. He left the hotel and drove to a park in the middle of Houston. The only requirement for the device to work—if it was fully charged, and it was—was that his phone have a full signal. He stayed in his car, and kept his eyes on his surroundings. After a few minutes, when it appeared that no one was paying him any particular attention, he dialed an Indianapolis number. His call was picked up on the third ring.
“Did you see the fucking paper?”
The fact that the congressman had call display meant he�
�d known it was Mills who was calling. The fact that he’d answered the call with those words meant he was a fucking idiot.
“That’s why I was calling. This is not good, Congressman.”
“As soon as I saw that photograph in the Tattletale, I knew the woman was Constance. The paper hasn’t identified her. They probably won’t. They likely figure she’s just a prostitute. After all, a hooker giving a blow job to one man while she takes another up the ass is no big deal. That’s what prostitutes do.”
Frank Mills chose his words carefully, and kept a rein on his emotions. Bishop was a disgusting human being. “Hopefully, you’re right. But in this Internet age, where we’re surrounded by unlikely heroes and heroines, I am a little concerned that her identity will be discovered. More, that someone, likely some left wing blogger, will get her to give him or her an interview. A Congressman’s stepdaughter turned prostitute? That’s just the kind of thing some of those weirdo nut-job activists would seize on. Sir, I think you have to prepare for the very real possibility that that will, indeed, happen.”
“Oh, God.”
“Those liberal-leaning spin doctors get a hold of her, they’ll turn her into an object of pity. Before you know it she’ll be on the talk show circuit and have a fucking lecture tour.”
“That can’t happen, Frank. You cannot let that happen!”
Mills kept the smile off his face in order to keep the sound of it out of his voice. The congressman sounded a little…afraid. Wonderful! “Sir, how do you propose we prevent it from happening?”
“There must be something you can do. Some way…hell there must be some way to just shut her up. Girls like that…they live a dangerous lifestyle, don’t they? I remember that committee I sat on last year. We held a hearing and listened to testimony from a lot of professionals, talking about the teen prostitution problem. Those girls are into all kinds of dangerous activities, associating with gangs and the like. The authorities consider them high-risk individuals. And by that I mean, high risk to be the victims of violence.”
“I didn’t realize that, congressman. I don’t have any knowledge of hookers.”
Love Under Two Quarterbacks [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 19