“I’ll call them,” she says. “I’ll be in touch.”
I hang up, shaking my head. It’ll take her a while to realize I’m not playing ball, but she’ll get the message eventually.
Katya clears her throat once I’m off the phone. “Umm, Chef, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation…”
“But you heard every word.” I wave it aside before she can start to apologize. “It’s not your fault, this office is the size of a shoe-closet.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “I guess the rumor mill was right. You are going to leave us to run a mass-market chain.”
“It’s by no means a done deal, Katya, as you probably heard.”
She bites her lip and doesn’t look at me. “Please don’t go, Chef. Ben’s insane. He’ll drive this place into the ground.” She gulps. “I’ve been working the front for five years. I’ve worked crazy hours, day in and day out because I believe in what we are doing here. We care about food. We care about people.” She looks unhappy. “Ben doesn’t give a shit, Chef. I hear the talk from the line cooks. He does the bare minimum at prep. He’s disorganized, he’s messy and when you are not here, he shows up reeking of alcohol.”
“Really? No one’s said anything.”
Her fingers play with her hair in a nervous gesture. “The staff won’t complain about Ben to you, Chef. They don’t think you’ll support them against him.”
I give her an astonished look. “Why?”
She squares her shoulders. “In for a penny, in for a pound, right?” she asks. “You didn’t fire Ben when he was a lazy line cook. You promoted him to sous-chef when he wasn’t ready, and when his kitchen was floundering, you put Helen in charge of Seb II so you could pay him personal attention.”
Fuck. She’s right. She’s absolutely correct.
I’ve been living in the past. Something about Ben reminds me of my struggles during the early days in Manhattan, and so I’ve overlooked many instances of bad behavior that should have got him fired. Heck, even Daniel has told me to get rid of him.
This franchise deal is another example. I wanted so much for there to be a restaurant with my name on it in Hattiesburg. I ached to go back and fix the wounds of the past. And in my relentless focus on what’s behind me, I’ve failed to appreciate what I have. A loyal staff, some of whom I’ve known since I moved to the city. Two profitable restaurants, a rarity in Manhattan. A best friend, Daniel, who is about the most amazing partner that I could ever ask for, and a woman, Bailey, who has, in a very short period of time, become one of the most important people in my life.
I have everything, but I’ve been too lost in the angst and in my own perceived inadequacies to notice.
I sit up, and it seems like a weight lifts off my shoulders as I make a decision. “Katya? Those rumor mills are wrong. I’m not going anywhere.”
A smile breaks out on her face, wide and delighted. When I see it, I know I’ve made the right choice. I belong here. This is my home.
32
Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.
Dr. Seuss
Bailey:
Before I have a chance to prepare, it’s the Saturday of the party.
The apartment is quiet. Since it’s Saturday, Piper’s still at work. She muttered something unflattering about Lawless and Lamb this morning as I was heading out the door, and I’m going to take it to mean that the partnership is going as well as can be expected. Well, as well as it can when you place three extremely passionate and stubborn people in a room.
I’m vacillating between a black floor-length dress and a black knee-length dress when the doorbell rings. I open it to find a young man holding a garment bag. “Ms. Moore?” he asks me politely. “I have a delivery for you.”
“I’m not expecting anything,” I say stupidly, then my brain makes the connection between the formal event tonight and the garment bag. Billionaires at work again. Since yelling at the delivery guy is rather pointless, I sign for the parcel and offer him a tip. He declines politely — it’s been taken care of, Ms. Moore, but thank you, - then leaves. I’m left holding a surprisingly heavy garment bag.
My phone rings as I walk toward my bedroom. I glance at the display. Sebastian. “Did I not tell you two to stop buying me things?” I ask him crossly, not bothering to say hello first.
“You did,” he laughs. “We didn’t promise to listen. Bailey, have you opened the bag yet?”
“No, the guy just dropped it off.”
Daniel’s voice cuts in. Sebastian must have me on speaker phone. “You want to play a game tonight, baby?”
Heat runs through me at that question. “A game?” My voice is breathy. I sound like I’ve just run a marathon.
“Open the bag,” Sebastian orders.
My breathing catches as the sight of the rich violet colored fabric that comes into view, and I reverently pull the dress out. It’s a deep purple silk gown. It’s possibly the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. There are shoes to match, and a purple lace bra, but no panties. My lips curl into a grin. “No underwear?” I tease them. “Surely that’s a bit cliché?”
“Clichés are popular for a reason,” Daniel says, his voice rich with amusement. “Your lack of underwear will be addressed in a moment. Do you see a black pouch among the stuff?”
I root around the mess on my bed until I find the bag Daniel’s referring to. “I just did,” I tell them. “I’m almost afraid to see what’s in it.”
“Don’t be boring, Bailey,” Sebastian scolds. “Open it.”
I unzip the bag, and I have to laugh. I’d been mentally bracing myself for jewelry, the expensive kind, the kind I didn’t want, because I’m much more comfortable wearing the pieces I buy for myself when traveling the world. But the bag opens to reveal something far more interesting. A pair of black silk panties, except the crotch has been replaced by a string of pearl-like beads.
My breath catches at the idea of the beads slipping between the folds of my pussy, pressed up against my clitoris, caressing me and shifting in me with each move I make… “You shouldn’t have,” I giggle into the phone, my voice high with arousal. “A girl can get used to this.”
Daniel chuckles. “That’s why I like you, Bailey. No false coyness from you. Now, both Sebastian and I are quite happy to volunteer to help you into the panties, if you’d like.”
I roll my eyes. “Daniel, it’s a pair of panties. I can manage.”
“Ah, she breaks my heart with her refusal,” he replies, laughing.
“Are you going to be good and wear the dress, Bailey?” Sebastian growls. I notice he doesn’t say anything about wearing the sex toy panties. He’s correctly assuming that I have no objection to them.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“How many black dresses were you trying to decide between?”
“Two, damn it,” I admit, chagrined at how well they already seem to know me. “Fine, I’ll wear your dress.” I realize how ungracious I sound, and I wince. “It’s a very lovely dress,” I say, my voice softening in apology. “Thank you. It was very kind of both of you.”
“A car will be by at eight to pick you up,” Daniel says. “We’ll be in it. And we’ll be checking if everything’s on properly.”
“So wear those panties unless you want to earn a spanking, honey,” Sebastian advises.
I’m so turned on that I cannot breathe. The idea of them making me lift up my dress in the car so that they can examine me almost makes my heart stop in my chest. And their threats of a spanking? I can’t stop imagining me bent over one of their laps, panties rolled down to my knees, being punished for failing to follow their very precise orders.
They must know where my thoughts are — I’m practically panting with lust into the phone. “Bailey,” Daniel gives me one last instruction. “Don’t masturbate. Wait for us.”
“Is that another order?” I sass at them, though I fully intend to obey. “Will I get punished if I don’t listen?”
“You absolutely will,” Daniel assures me. “And you won’t like it, so I suggest you do as you are told.”
The total dominance with which he says those words turns me on even more. It is going to be a herculean task to keep my fingers to myself while I slip those panties on.
At that thought, my face heats in embarrassment. I’m going to be wearing a sex toy during one of Daniel’s work functions? How very awkward.
How very naughty, my inner rebel reminds me, and I grin widely. Hey, it’s not my work event. If Daniel wants to play sex games at his company party, I’m happy to indulge.
* * *
They’d said there would be a car for me. When I heard the knock on the door, I assume it’s the driver, but no. It’s the two of them, and Sebastian is holding a bottle of champagne.
“Aren’t you late for your own party?” I ask Daniel. “And aren’t we all too old to get pre-drunk?”
“Hello to you too, Bailey,” he replies with a twitch of his lips. “You look lovely in that dress.”
“I agree,” Sebastian says. “Invite us in, honey. This isn’t pre-drinking. This is celebrating.”
I step aside. “What are you celebrating?” I ask them, heading into the kitchen to find some champagne flutes.
Sebastian pops the cork expertly and pours the shimmery liquid into three glasses. “I’m going to turn down the franchise deal.”
“Seriously?” This has been so important to him. “You were so enthused about it. What made you change your mind?”
We clink glasses and I take a sip. The bubbles tickle my throat and it feels very sensual. Add in the string of pearls that rub against my clitoris every time I move, and I’m incredibly aware of my body.
“I wanted the idea of it more than the real thing,” he replies. “So many nights, when I was cooking at one lousy restaurant after another in the early days, I dreamed of going back home one day and proving everyone wrong.” His lips turn into a grimace. “It’s a dreadful thing to live in the past.”
“And what prompted this revelation?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” he says frankly. “A feeling has been growing within me that this is the wrong thing to do. Then on Thursday, I saw the details of the proposal, and it was garbage. Juliette keeps saying that the terms can be reworked, but I don’t want it to be.”
“How has Juliette taken the news?” I can’t see her approving of Sebastian’s decision, and she doesn’t strike me as the kind that is going to roll over and play dead.
“She’s still arguing with me.” He dismisses her with a shrug. “Whatever. She’ll come around soon enough.”
“Sebastian,” I say, my voice earnest. She’d followed me into the bathroom and told me to stay away from Sebastian, all because he kissed me. In the face of outright defeat, I can’t imagine what she might do, but I know it won’t be pretty. “I wouldn’t underestimate Juliette.”
He tosses the champagne back and refills our glasses. “I don’t want to talk about Juliette,” he says. “Not when all I can think of is pulling up your dress to check if you are wearing a very sexy pair of panties. I’m going to taste you, Bailey. I’m going to get you keyed up and aroused, and tonight, every time I turn and look at you, I’ll know you are hot, swollen and ready for my dick.”
Daniel bares his teeth. “When the party is over tonight, Bailey,” his hands caress the curve of my butt. “I’m going to take your ass while Sebastian pounds your pussy. Would you like that?”
I dismiss thoughts of Juliette from my mind, focusing instead on the two desirable men in front of me. “Yes,” I whisper, moving so I’m standing between their rock solid bodies, “I would like that very much.”
33
'Tis a secret: none knows how it comes, how it goes. But the name of the secret is Love!
Lewis Carroll, Sylvie and Bruno Concluded
Bailey:
I’ve retreated to a quiet corner of the crowded bar. The party is in full swing and everyone appears to be having a blast. There’s a band playing, people are dancing and strolling among the artwork, all while sipping at their wine and beer. The museum security people must be having a coronary at the thought of damage to their Van Gogh's and Picasso's.
Daniel walks up to me with two drinks in his hand, extending one to me. “I noticed you were empty,” he says with a smile, gesturing to the glass in my hand. “Having fun?”
“I’m a little intimidated by the conspicuous consumption on display,” I reply with a wink. “Also, I’m uh, distracted.”
“Mmm.” His gaze moves over me like a heated touch and goosebumps rise on my skin in response. The beads starts to vibrate against my pussy, and I almost spill my drink, startled. “Steady there, Bailey,” he grins.
“How?” I ask weakly.
“There’s a remote, of course. The range isn’t great, but it works well enough when I’m up close to you.”
He’s standing a safe distance away, and no one looking at us will think that we are having anything other than a casual conversation. Daniel’s extremely good at managing his image.
As the waves of pleasure thrum through my body, I realize that’s not the only thing he’s good at. He’s very skilled at torturing me as well. I’m too proud to beg him to stop, and I definitely don’t want to orgasm in front of an audience of hundreds. To take my mind off the vibrations at my core, I ask him something I’ve been curious about. “Has everyone in your family always been so driven? Cyrus looks a little scary.”
The beads stop buzzing. I’m not at all surprised that Daniel’s glowering uncle can put him off sex. “Talking about Cyrus, where is he?” Daniel wonders aloud, scanning the room, then his attention switches back to me. “Sorry, Bailey. He’s due to make a speech soon. To answer your question, the lesson we learned from early childhood was that the family firm is the only thing that mattered. We are merely guardians of its legacy.” He smiles tiredly. “It’s a wearying concept for a child.”
“You have a sister, right? Does she work at your company as well?”
He shakes his head. “Susan was supposed to marry well and produce babies. She’s dating the most boring guy in the world, so I’d say that she’s doing her part.” He sips at his drink. “I’m being dramatic. I had a wonderful childhood, we both did. My father did his best to shield us from the family obligations. We only had to listen to lectures on our duties as Hartmans when we visited my grandparents.”
“Cyrus seems all about duty.”
He grimaces. “Yeah, well, the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree there. Cyrus is a spitting image of my grandfather. My mother can’t stand him.”
“Why was your father different?” I ask. “How come he was immune to the family pressures?”
He smiles. “The oldest reason in the world, and one I understand too well,” he says lightly. “He met a woman that mattered more than obligations.” His eyes linger on me till I squirm with discomfort. He can’t mean me, right?
Silence stretches between us. “Families are funny things,” Daniel says finally. “You think that you are free of their influence the moment you move out, but that’s not really ever the case, is it? I work at the family firm, even though Cyrus persists in acting like my nanny. Sebastian almost made the biggest mistake of his career because he can’t forget how little support his parents gave him.” He gulps down the rest of the drink. “What about you, Bailey? Do you get along with your parents?”
“This is,” I remark to no one in particular, “about the strangest conversation I’ve ever had when I’m about to come.”
He laughs at that, long and hard. People turn around and gape discreetly at their boss. Across the room, I spot Cyrus in a far corner, deep in conversation with Juliette. They look up as I notice them, and both of them frown in my direction, though I can’t bring myself to be bothered. So they disapprove of me. Big fucking deal.
When Daniel’s done with his mirth, he flashes me a devious smile. “As much as it would be enjoyable to watc
h you come right now,” he says, “I much rather keep you keyed up for later.”
“Asshole,” I say without heat. “Yes, I get along very well with my parents. My dad was a freelance photographer and my mother was a painter. They gave me wanderlust.”
“Is your quest for tenure a search for the stability you didn’t have growing up?”
That’s a very perceptive question, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. Daniel pays attention. I laugh uneasily, and his hand comes out and rests on my forearm. “I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he says, apology in his tone. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You know too much about me already,” I admit. “It’s intimidating.”
“It’s not meant to be.” He takes in the room around us, the glitz and the glamour, the expensive gowns and suits, all the trappings of wealth. “Look at this place,” he mutters, stepping closer to me. “There’s hundreds of people here. Yet I can let my guard down around only two of them.”
One of those people is obviously Sebastian. And the other? Is he really talking about me? “Why?” I whisper. There’s a tremble in my voice that I try to disguise. “Why me? I’m not gorgeous and thin. Look at the women here. Any of them would fit better in your world.”
“Why do women always think that gorgeous is the same thing as thin?” he asks exasperatedly. “I don’t see how an extra ten pounds makes you any less interesting or accomplished or fascinating.”
“Ten?” I snort. “Try thirty.”
He shakes his head. The pearls comes to life again and I shiver as lust hums through my body. “I’ve seen you naked,” he says softly. “You are beautiful and perfect. And if you put yourself down again, I will punish you and you won’t like it.”
The intensity increases and I whimper. I can barely stand, I’m so close to the edge. I’m afraid someone’s going to look at me and reach the obvious conclusion. My pussy is damp, my cunt lips slippery with desire. “Turn it off,” I beg. “I’m going to come.”
Betting on Bailey (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing For Love Book 1) Page 18