Walking Away

by Xavier Neal

  “Because part of my job requires I know who it is I am dealing with on both ends of a purchase. The buyer as well as the seller.” I cross my legs. “Truthfully, Maria, I think three hundred thousand is still much under the market value of what you could get if were to shop this piece around or if you allowed me to further negotiate with my client.”

  Her eyes drop contemplatively to the check in her hands.

  “However, you are reaching desperate levels and do not have that time to waste. Take the three hundred thousand, get things paid off, establish actual savings and tell your husband he has a 10:45 interview tomorrow morning with a Mr. Archer Cox at Harry’s Hardware in the Cloud district.”

  She attempts to catch her gasp.

  “And you may also want to give your brother, Adolfo, a fair warning there will be a catering request coming in today for a charity banquet. A request in which if he fulfills it, he can guarantee the restaurant will see future requests for functions at least four times a year.”

  The astonished expression remains.

  “See, I could’ve written you a check for a bigger amount, and let your situation remain. More money would have helped. But would it have lasted? And if it did for how long? Couple years? Maybe five or six max?” When she doesn’t answer I continue, “Or I could’ve helped plant you the seeds for success, so you never find yourself at the mercy of having to lose something you love to care for those you love. Take the check. Take the seeds. And have a beautiful day, Maria.”

  She remains still for a moment longer, bright red painted lips trembling.

  While I’m not sure if the tears pricking the corner of her eyes are that of sadness over losing a piece of what I imagine is personal history or of joy for having a shot at a profitable future, I simply offer one last genuine smile.

  There are times to be cut throat and there are times to remember people run into strings of bad luck. I actually prefer doing business this way. Not only because it makes me feel like less of a money, sucking bitch, but because I know she’s not getting shafted. Besides, even if Laurence can afford to cough up a million dollars, it still makes me look better if I can keep him under budget.

  Once Maria has exited, I take the red and black portrait to my office vault, and secure it inside.

  Not even thirty seconds after the door to it has been locked, Ronnie is peeking his head around my door. “Boss, Mr. Steven is on line one. He wants to request a meeting to discuss helping find his fiancée a pair of Melinda Vanzi earrings.”

  My annoyance is immediate. “She designs five pairs of those a year.”

  “He sounded desperate.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s gonna sound broke if he doesn’t get his Brazilian Barbie under control.” I give my wavy hair a ruffle. “Put him on the schedule for tomorrow. The meeting with Laurence and his appraiser is enough stress for one afternoon.”

  His head bobs yet his expression becomes gleeful.

  I drop my hand onto my hip. “What else?”

  “You have visitors.”

  “Visitors?”

  Quickly, he nods and opens the office door to allow Hudson and Jason access.

  Adoration spreads effortlessly in the pit of my stomach.

  Just seeing the two of them fills me with this inexplicable warmth and love. It’s like every time we’re all together, I feel more complete.

  “Thank you, Ronnie,” Jason says with a hint of dismissal in his voice.

  “And thank you boys for the flowers.” He giggles and shuts himself on the other side of the door.

  “Flowers were my idea for the record,” Hudson tries to brag, hands sliding into his heather gray suit pants pockets.

  Jason rolls his eyes. “They were not.”

  “They were too.”

  “No. You wanted to get him chocolate-”

  “Well what kind of assistant doesn’t like chocolate?!”

  “The kind of assistant who is always lecturing me about how much I love it.”

  Hudson points to himself and Jason. “Wait. Don’t you prefer vanilla?”

  His joke receives a shake of the head followed by me relaxing against the edge of my desk. I take a split second to soak in the delicious sight they are. Hudson is cloaked in his suit attire without the jacket, and Jason is in his nice jeans and favorite solid color t-shirt. Nowadays, Hudson’s suits are usually gray or navy since those are our preferred choices for him while Jason makes the effort to put on jeans when we’re going out for longer than an hour. The small changes to our wardrobes for one another weren’t forced or pressured. I think it’s sweet how we each enjoy doing a little something extra for the people we love. Somehow, they’ve managed to convince me to wear more pencil skirt dresses that keep my cleavage covered as well as abandon the need for underwear. Apparently, they both have a fondness for the simple process of just lifting and enjoying.

  “What are you two doing here?”

  “We came to have you for lunch,” Jason answers slyly.

  I can’t prevent the wide grin from spreading ear to ear. “You mean with me.”

  Hudson’s head tilts. “Do we?”

  My thighs anxiously press together. “As much as I would love nothing more than to have sex in this office with the both of you-”

  “We’ve had sex in that chair,” Hudson brags at the same time he points to the unusually shaped red piece of furniture near the window.

  “We got caught having sex when it was delivered.”

  “Touché,” Hudson coos. “What about the desk?”

  Jason rapidly nods. “On it. Over it.”

  “Under it?”

  My husband swivels his head to look up at our boyfriend. “No….”

  “Twice.”

  “The chair?”

  “No. She won’t even let me sit in it.”

  “Me either.”

  “She’s really weird about it.”

  With an increasing firm expression, I scold, “Are you two done?”

  They laugh at their antics, and I do my best not to join them.

  Despite how sex crazed they are making me sound, I really haven’t had that much sex in here. It is after all a place of business. Besides, between the school girl look of jollity on Ronnie’s face when it happens and the questionable one on clients when they arrive post orgasm, it is usually best to just wait until I get home.

  “I’ve got a meeting at 1:45.” My announcement hushes them. “We can do lunch together as long as you are both aware, I will be back in my cushy, white, not for you to sit in, chair ten minutes before it.”

  “Seven,” Hudson negotiates.

  “Fine. But you better make those three extra minutes worth a damn or you’ll just be fantasizing about what’s not under this dress rather than appreciating it.”

  Another round of chuckles circles the room, and I grab my purse. After planting a sweet kiss on both of their lips in which I receive a firm ass squeeze during each one, we travel a few blocks over to Aunt Toni’s.

  Like always we’re seated on the back patio in our corner spot. Hudson claims to prefer it because it allows more privacy for when our tongues get away from ourselves, but part of me wonders if it’s because he’s still a little ashamed to be seen kissing a man. I actually think I fear more he’s ashamed to be involved in a relationship that involves two partners instead of one. Ronnie and Storm may be used to it now, but the first few times were awkward, not to mention the first time Hudson showed up without Jason. I know even though we’ve adjusted to our lifestyle doesn’t mean the rest of the world has. Or will. I do know I don’t have to care.

  The waitress brings us a round of waters and they proceed to tell me about their errand filled morning together. Unfortunately, I had to rush off fairly early, but the change in schedule did allow me to enjoy a hot shower without having to wait an extra twenty minutes. I swear to God we’re going to have invest in a backup water heater.

  “Put gator in your pasta,” Jason commands.

  “I’m not p
utting fucking gator in my pasta,” Hudson argues.

  “Why not?”

  “What do you mean why not? Why would I put an animal that belongs on Gwenny’s handbag in my food?”

  “Excuse you. I do not wear alligator skin anything.”

  He waves off my comment.

  “You dragged my ass to four department stores this morning-”

  Hudson interrupts and directs his eyes my direction. “Which reminds me, I got a new suit for tonight. You’re still coming with me to have drinks at Malvanyo’s, right?”

  “In the little black dress you pre-approved.”

  Dates that drag us around his co-workers aren’t always awful, but they always come with precise explanations how what I say and what I wear reflect him. The conversations are a bit foreign considering it’s been years since I was basically eye candy on anyone’s arm, but I know he just wants to keep his bosses happy. Benefit of being the boss though. It’s other’s that have to strive to keep you happy.

  “Remember, this is with Francis, his wife, and their shrimp cocktail guzzling golf buddies. If possible, please refrain from ordering appetizers that contain red meat. I don’t wanna spend all night listening to them lecture about heart diseases and the charities they donate to in hopes of preventing it.”

  “You can’t buy your way out of heart disease,” I argue.

  “Yeah, don’t tell them that.” When my frown deepens, he adds, “Make drinks with them as painless as possible, and we can swing by that little jazz night club afterwards.”

  Dancing my stress away is a new thing. My trainer thought it might help to mix up my work out regime and Hudson has convinced me it’s a much healthier way to deal with my emotions. The dates between just the two of us often include some sort of dancing and an adrenaline filled quickie in the front seat of his car. Jason doesn’t voice his complaints, but it’s usually obvious in his eyes how much he hates not being able to take me dancing as well.

  Sensing the slight rift of sadness slipping over Jason, I question, “Did you say he took you to four department stores?”

  Jason quickly nods. “Fucking four. All of which he has clearly banged multiple salesgirls at, might I add.”

  My mouth drops open.

  “It was like taking a tour of the sluttiest department stores in America.”

  “Hey!” Hudson grouses. “It wasn’t fucking like that at all.”

  “Right. So the blonde who requested to measure your inseam in the back room for employees only was…what? My imagination running wild?”

  Hudson hits him with an arrogant yet sweet smirk. “You can relax. You’re the only Blondie in my life who will be touching my inseam.”

  Jason rolls his eyes. “I warned you when we were shopping the price for doing so would be high. I have decided on payment. You’re putting gator in your pasta. Deal with it.”

  He groans his disapproval. “Are you fucking serious? You’re going to punish me for taking you to get a better wardrobe.”

  “Blow me. We went to put more expensive shit in your closet.”

  “Our closet, need I remind you,” I speak up. “I don’t mind sharing space, but you’re conducting a not so subtle hostile takeover and if it spreads any further, I’m gonna have to break out the big guns.”

  “Which are?”

  Squeezing my boobs together, I lean over to give him a better view.

  Hudson groans under his breath. “Fuck, I’d start wearing Jason’s wardrobe to work to get my face between those right now.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my wardrobe!”

  “Maybe if you were still seventeen and trying to convince Carly London to let you fill her up in the back of her mom’s van, but you’re a man now. We take our girl to nice restaurants. I wanna eventually take you both to nice work events. You can’t keep shoving your Daniel Craig chest into my Pierce Bronson shirts.”

  I sweetly interject. “It really does feel like I have my very own Bonds sometimes.”

  “And you are by far sexier than any Bond girl could ever be.” Hudson lets his hand graze my thigh.

  All of a sudden, Jason’s does the same on the opposite legs before they link together in my lap. Another grin explodes across my face, and I drop my hands to cover theirs.

  Once they agree on the penalty for taking Jason shopping, they prod me about my day, what’s left of it, and what they want us to do the minute we walk through the door after drinks with Hudson’s boss. Throughout lunch the conversation is covered in laughter. Between the two of them and their boyish competing, there is never a dull moment. Each of us takes turns holding hands. Kissing. Caressing. I actually get so wrapped up in watching them kiss towards the end of our meal that I’m almost late getting back to the office.

  Hudson’s arm is wrapped around my waist when we stroll through the glass doors to my building.

  Immediately, Ronnie chirps, “Mr. Edgar is here!”

  My eyes cut to where he is sitting on the black leather couch of the waiting room. Pulling out of my boyfriend’s embrace I cross over to shake his hand. “Laurence.”

  He shakes. “I’m early.”

  “By six minutes,” Hudson mumbles from a short distance behind me.

  “You are, but give me just a moment to say goodbye to my lunch dates.”

  His eyebrows lift. “Dates? As in….”

  “More than one.”

  He tries not to huff. “I was under the impression you were married, Mrs. Kincaid.”

  “I am. Happily.”

  The expression shifts to one of deep disapproval. “You are aware what you do in your personal life is one thing but to showcase it around your place of business is distasteful.”

  Two very distinct grumbles echo around the room. Their defensive sounds and desire to jump in front of a verbal bullet for me send the butterflies in the bottom of stomach swarming.

  Rather than turn to reassure them I can handle myself, I keep my eyes planted in his. “You are aware of the old saying those who wear diapers in glass cribs shouldn’t throw stones, aren’t you Laurence?”

  His face becomes a deep crimson color.

  Like I said before, it is my job to know the person I’m purchasing from and selling to.

  Doing my best to hide my victory smirk, I usher my hand the direction of my office. “I will be there in just a moment.”

  He drops his face and storms away adjusting his tie.

  I turn around and move back to my men who are presenting identical awestruck expressions.

  “Holy fuck, that was hot,” Hudson practically groans.

  “Forgot how sexy you look putting people in their place,” Jason’s tone is similar.

  A sense of pride pushes me to stand up a little straighter. “I will see you both later.”

  They practically pout when I start to strut away without kissing them goodbye. Quickly, I backtrack and plant my lips softly to Jason’s, not allowing him to enjoy my tongue for more than a brief moment, before repeating the kiss with Hudson.

  Both are left anxious for more, though I turn on my heels once more to return to the waiting work day.

  “I can’t even get one man and this heifer finds two.”

  “Heard that,” my playful snap at Ronnie is met with a snicker.

  And I know there’s a valid point in what he’s whining about. Some people aren’t lucky enough to find the one person they wanna spend their life with, yet I managed through some divine intervention to find people. I try not to take for granted what we have and if it’s up to me, it’s something I will continuously work at until death does us all part.

  I lean back on my palms and proudly admire my handiwork.

  Of all the things I saw myself doing in the future, building a wooden rocking pig was not one of them.

  Turning my head slightly over my shoulder, I call out, “What do you two think?”

  Hudson lifts one finger while continuing to type on his lap top with the other hand.

  “Redecorated the entir
e office for you to work in yet you rarely do.”

  “Too far from you,” he flirts.

  The task of repainting the office and the furniture in it was obviously one they conspired to give me in hopes I’d feel more useful. It was so transparent it was borderline insulting, but the want for me to have something to work on, something I would be comfortable contributing with in a conversation, spoke volumes. Like cooking, the projects, changing up the office environment became something we did together, not only because they had to move most of the furniture but because we had so much fun any time we worked as a whole. Arguing over décor. Fighting over who should be paying. Dripping paint on one another until the only option was to stop and share a long, hot shower. Yeah…fixing up the office was a fun adventure for a few months.