by Amy Brent
He gave me that “silly girl” look he’d been giving me for ten years and shook his head. “Brooks said he will call the ER doctor to access the criticality of the situation. He didn’t think things were nearly as dour as the young recent med school graduate they have working here. I’m sure Ramona will be just fine until Brooks arrives.”
“They are going to admit her now,” I said, putting a hand on his arm before he pushed open the door. “She needs rest and so do you. When they get her settled in you should go home and get some sleep.”
“I can’t leave her, Fiona,” he said quietly, brushing a knuckle under his nose. I thought I saw a rare tear in his eye. He turned so I couldn’t see him wipe it away.
I watched Edward Cassidy’s face age in a matter of seconds. Even though he was nearly seventy years old, he was still strong, vibrant, and tough as nails. But at that moment he looked like a tired, old man. I could tell that he was struggling to keep his composure. He cleared his throat and put his hand on the door. He didn’t look at me when he spoke. “I’ll have Kyle fetch me some clothes. I’ll be fine.”
He put a hand on my shoulder and thanked me for coming. He leaned in to kiss my cheek. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled back and cleared his throat. He was far too tactful to mention that I smelled like a whore house on Saturday night. He just gave me a look that was both scolding and playful, then went in to be with his wife.
Kyle was leaning sullenly against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He stared at me while I talked to his father, his squinty eyes drifting up and down my body. Danny O was standing next to him, leering at me. I glanced at them for a moment, then turned and headed down the hall in the opposite direction.
“Hey, hang on,” Kyle called, trotting to catch up with me. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t stop until I reached an elevator around the corner. I pressed the down button and stood holding my purse over my crotch, as if that would help mask the aroma wafting from between my legs.
“I have nothing to say to you, Kyle,” I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet, my eyes glued to the floor counter. We were on the third floor. The elevator was slowly descending from the tenth floor.
“I have plenty to say to you,” he said angrily.
“Lower your voice,” I said, glancing around at the nurses who were manning the station behind us. They were pretending not to be listening.
“Where have you been?” Kyle asked, lowering his voice to a loud whisper. “You look like you just crawled out of a dumpster.”
“You know all about that,” I said, cutting him a sideways glance. “You reek of Wendy’s Wal-Mart douche.”
“You’re one to talk,” he said, leaning in and sniffing the air between us. “You stink of sex.” He narrowed his eyes at me as if he were trying to read my mind. “Where have you been? Who have you been with?”
“That’s none of your business,” I said, eyes on the floor counter, watching the elevator slowly descend. Two more floors. I gritted my teeth and tried to maintain my composure. It would have been so easy to scream and cry and punch him in the goddamn balls.
“It is my business,” he said. “You are my wife.”
“Not for long,” I said.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means that I am divorcing you, Kyle,” I said with a decisive sigh that was long overdue. “I’m going to go home and take a long hot bath and get a good night’s sleep, then on Monday I’m going to call a lawyer and file for divorce.”
“Bullshit,” he said, snorting. “We have a prenup. You divorce me and you’ll get nothing. You aren’t cut out to live on the streets, my dear. You’ll walk away with nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing. Not a fucking thing.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I said as the elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby. Kyle put his hand on the door to keep it from closing.
“What does that mean?
“It means that I will be fairly compensated for putting up with your shit for ten years,” I said forcefully, gritting my teeth. “You will be presented with a fair settlement and you will approve it.”
He sneered at me. “Now why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t I’ll march right back into that hospital room and tell your dear mother and father what a lying, cheating, piece of shit their son is. And then I’ll call the IRS and the state’s attorney to have them look into the gratuity fees you’ve been charging your clients for years.” The sneer melted from his face. He sucked in his cheeks and glared at me.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” I said. I nodded at his arm blocking the door. “Now, move your fucking arm and do not come back to the penthouse this weekend. I will have your clothes boxed up and delivered to you on Monday. You’re not to come back to the penthouse again. Understand?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You can’t kick me out of my own home.”
“We’ll see who gets it in the settlement,” I said. “Until then, you do not come back there. Now, get back in there and comfort your parents like the good little boy they think you are.”
He took a step back and stared at me with a dumbfounded look on his face until the doors closed. I leaned back against the wall and blew out a long breath. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly three in the morning. Ramona was right. I needed a hot bath and a good night’s sleep.
As I stepped out into the crisp night air and into the back of a taxi, I couldn’t help but wonder what Nick Patron was doing. And who he was doing it with.
CHAPTER EIGHT: Nick
Even though I was exhausted and a little drunk, I didn’t sleep well. I made it back to my place around two and stripped off my clothes and fell naked into bed without taking a shower. Though I passed out quickly, the movie of Fiona and I fucking in the restroom at The Haven Club kept looping through my mind. I could taste her pussy on my lips. I could smell her juices and sweat on my cock and fingers. I woke up several times with throbbing boners that I knew my own hand couldn’t satisfy. I tried to masturbate, but it was no good. It was as if my cock was saying “sorry, dude, this one’s not for you”. I finally got tired of tugging on it and just fell back asleep.
When the sun coming through the twentieth-floor wall of windows woke me just after eight, I kicked off the covers and stretched out my limbs and yawned. I glanced down at my cock, which was still sleeping flaccidly against my leg. The motherfucker keeps me up and night and now he wants to sleep? Son of a bitch.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, pausing just long enough to brush the muck off my teeth and glance in the mirror. I looked as worn out as I felt. Thankfully, it was one of the rare Saturdays when I didn’t have anything scheduled, so I’d just take a shower, make a pot of strong coffee, and maybe go for a run to shock my body back into rhythm.
I turned on the shower and the bathroom quickly filled with steam. I stepped under the water and backed into it, letting the jets beat against my stiff neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes. There she was again. Fiona Kassidy with a K, the little black dress hiked up to her waist and pulled down over her tits. Her moist pussy glistening, begging to be licked. Her full breasts bouncing on her chest.
My cock stiffened again, so hard I could feel the blood pumping through it. I soaped up my right hand and leaned my left hand against the wall to steady myself. As my imagination took me back in time, my hand milked my cock in rhythm to my thrusts in and out of Fiona’s tight pussy. Slowly, steadily, I quickened the pace until my balls tightened and I felt the cum flowing toward my cock. I stood on my toes and moaned as I came, shooting long ropes of cum on the Italian tile shower wall. I milked my cock until the orgasm passed, then lowered my feet to the floor and opened my eyes. I leaned back to let the hot water sluice down the crease of my abs and over my cock and sighed. Maybe I would not have a leisurely Saturday after all. Maybe I would spend the day searching for Fiona Kassidy.
* * *
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I felt much better after the shower and the release of tension through my cock. My entire body felt more relaxed, refreshed. It’s amazing what a good jacking off can do for you. I pulled on a pair of raggedy jeans and a black Polo, grabbed my laptop and padded barefoot it into the kitchen. As the coffee maker filled the room with the aroma of strong Columbian coffee, I set the laptop on the bar and checked my email. Jenna, as usual, had already gone through my email and filtered out everything that didn’t require my personal attention. I scanned the emails that had made it past Jenna’s filters. There was nothing that needed my immediate attention, then I saw the reply from Jenna regarding the background check on Fiona.
I opened the email to read her quick reply. Will run a full background check first thing Monday. Have a nice weekend. J.
I turned away from the computer for a moment to fill a cup with the strong coffee. My stomach growled at me. I opened the cupboard and pulled down a box of strawberry Pop Tarts. Jesse always made fun of my fetish for strawberry Pop Tarts. I basically lived on the damn things when I was too poor to buy real food. It didn’t matter how rich I became, I never lost my lust for strawberry Pop Tarts. The difference now was that instead of a box Pop Tarts having to last a week, I had an entire cupboard that held nothing but strawberry Pop Tarts.
I sat back down at the computer and ripped open the Pop Tart. I didn’t bother toasting them. I preferred them cold. I bit one in half and turned back to the laptop.
“All right, Fiona Kassidy,” I said, opening a browser and typing her name into the search bar. My finger was just about to tap the Enter key when the doorbell rang. I glanced toward the front door and frowned. I lived on the twentieth floor of one of the most secure buildings in the city. Protocol was that visitors remain in the lobby until the front desk guards called up and asked if I’d like the visitor to be let upstairs. Only those on my list of approved visitors could come up without announcement, and that was a very short list that included Jesse, Jenna, and the Russian twins.
I set down the cup and dusted crumbs off my hands as I went to the door. I peered through the peephole. What I saw made me smile. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Well, this is a surprise,” I said, giving Fiona a look up and down. She was wearing jeans, a short-sleeved red top, and tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was fresh-faced, wearing very little makeup. She was holding a box of Krispy Kreme donuts.
“I wanted to apologize for running out on you last night,” she said, holding up the box. “I was hoping you’d let me explain.”
“Nothing says I’m sorry like a box of Krispy Kreme donuts,” I said, sniffing the space between us. The smell of freshly-baked donuts filled the air. My eyebrows went up. “Assorted flavors, I assume.”
“Of course,” she said.
“Cream-filled?”
“Duh.”
I stepped aside and held out my hand.
“I just made coffee. Come on in.”
CHAPTER NINE: Fiona
After I got home from the hospital, I stood in my bedroom door for the longest while, staring at the bed where just hours before I’d seen my husband fucking one of his employees. I could close my eyes and still see them there. I could hear Kyle’s grunts and wheezes; Wendy’s gasps and moans. I could see her tugging on her nipples and Kyle’s face as he came. After a moment, I turned off the light and closed the door. On Monday, I would have the mattress and bed linen burned and the room fumigated. Tonight, I’d sleep in the guest room.
I was used to sleeping alone. Kyle traveled a lot. And often had sleepovers with women I wasn’t supposed to know about. It bothered me at first, sleeping alone, but lately I’d come to relish those nights when he wasn’t there, lying beside me, snoring, tossing and turning, rolling into me with his sad excuse for an erection, rubbing it against my ass until he came in his boxer shorts.
I slept like a baby and awoke with the renewed energy of a new day, as if tossing off the baggage of Kyle and the life we’d led had somehow made me lighter, had set me free. I showered and dried my hair, then called Kyle to check on his mother.
“She’s okay,” he said. He sounded tired. He mentioned that he had not gone home yet. I think his dedication to his mother was supposed to impress me. It did not. “She’s in a private room. Dad won’t leave her side. I sent Danny to pick up some things for dad. I need a change of clothes, Fee. Can I come home?”
“There are suitcases already in the lobby with most of your clothes,” I said. I had packed Kyle’s clothes and put them in the private elevator when I got home from the hospital. It was something I had to do right away, as if sleeping with his clothes in the penthouse was paramount to sleeping with him. It was a great way to get out all that pent-up energy and anger, stuffing his expensive clothes into bags and tossing them into the elevator and sending them downstairs. I alerted the night doorman that they were on the way down and he promised to keep them safe until Kyle could arrive to pick them up.
“I need my watches and rings,” he huffed. “My diamond cufflinks. Tell me you did not pack those away and toss them out.”
“Your jewelry is still in the safe. You can get all that stuff on Monday,” I said with a sigh. “Now, how is your mother? Has the doctor been in?”
I could practically hear his teeth gnashing over the phone. After a moment, he said. “They are monitoring her and giving her meds. The ER doctor is still pushing to have the procedure done quickly by the staff cardiologist, but dad won’t hear of it. He’s insisting on waiting until their regular doctor is back on Monday.”
“That could be a mistake,” I said.
“Convince them of that,” he said quietly. “Fee, listen, I’m sorry about what happened. Can’t I come over? Just to talk?”
“No, Kyle, you can’t,” I said without hesitation. “Call me if your mother’s condition changes. Otherwise, tell her I’ll see her soon.”
He was yelling when I hung up. I probably should be ashamed at the amount of joy his anger gave me. I hung up the phone and grabbed my purse, then went off to find Nick Patron.
* * *
Finding Nick’s home address wasn’t that difficult. I phoned my girlfriend, Mollie, who was one of the top Realtors in the city. If Nick Patron lived in an expensive apartment in town or a mansion in the country, Mollie would know it.
“Of course, I know where Nick Patron lives,” Mollie said, as if it was a foolish question. “He was one of the first buyers in the Abbot Building downtown. He paid $12.3 million for an apartment on the twentieth floor.” She paused for a moment. “Why are you asking, Fiona? What’s your interest in Nick Patron?”
“He was at the fundraiser last night and left his… umbrella,” I said. “I just wanted to return it to him.”
“Uh huh. I don’t remember it raining last night, Fiona,” she said, grinning at me over the Facetime screen.
“Guess he likes to be prepared,” I said, holding back the big smile that was itching at my lips. “Thanks, Moll. See you soon.”
I stopped by Krispy Kreme and picked up two dozen assorted donuts. I walked into Nick’s building and smiled sweetly as I set the donuts on the front desk. Two guards who looked like they could eat their weight in donuts looked at me, then the box, and licked their lips.
“Can we help you, miss?” the older of the two guards asked, standing behind the desk with his thumbs hitched in his belt.
“Yes, you can,” I said, batting my eyelashes at them. “I am a friend of Mr. Patron in twenty-twelve. He asked me to bring him a healthy breakfast.” I leaned over the desk and lowered my voice. “I said fuck that.”
They grinned at me. Their eyes widened as I lifted the lid off the box. The aroma of fresh donuts filled the air. The guard leaned over and sniffed. I said, “So, I thought you guys might be hungry, too.”
“Um, yeah, we’re always hungry,” the guard said. “Just let me call upstairs to make sure Mr. Patron is in.”
“Oh, there’s no need t
o do that,” I said. I was holding my cellphone. I wiggled it at them. “I just got off the phone with him. He knows I’m coming. He said to just come right up. My name is Fiona Cassidy.”
“Well, I guess it’s okay,” the guard said, rubbing his hands together. “Go on up.”
“Thanks, guys,” I said, picking up one box of donuts and leaving the other. I stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button for the twentieth floor. As the elevator ascended, my heart began to race. I couldn’t help but wonder if Nick would be happy to see me. And would he even let me in? And if he did, what would happen next?
CHAPTER TEN: Nick
I poured Fiona a cup of coffee and watched her spoon sugar and pour cream into it. She stirred the brew slowly, casually, taking her time, then tapped the spoon on the cup’s rim and set it aside. She opened the box of donuts on the bar between us and plucked one out with two fingers.
