by Cynthia Dane
Even so, Alice was not blind to some of the faces around the room. More than one person was disgusted. Another looked so bored he wanted to take a nap. Who was the dancer Monroe had favored (and probably never would again, as long as the wife was with him?) That was probably the woman glaring at Alice right now. So many tips she would no longer get.
Joke was on her. If Alice was in the right mood, she might want a dance up in the VIP room too. I’m really turning into a Monroe over here. First she married one, then she started wearing black all the time, then she started wearing the Jean Patou…
She was either the greatest imposter ever or something was definitely changing. It’s all the fucking. Gonna blame it on my husband fucking it all into me. It was the only explanation that made any sense, hilariously enough.
“Question,” asked Destiny. Oh, right, she was the dancer. Hm. She looked nothing like Alice. That was both good and concerning. “Is Mr. Monroe still controlling anything around here? No offense…” she swallowed. “Ma’am.”
“My husband,” Alice let that sink in some more, “is still co-owner of the club. But, as you may have noticed, instead of being directly beneath Monroe Industries, The Dark Hour will transition to the Culver Hospitality Holdings subdivision posthaste. The only thing that will change around here is some letterheads and what goes on your paystubs. That’s all boring stuff for me to do behind the scenes. Oh, and I will be much more involved than my husband has been. In the business side of things, that is.”
Someone snickered. Alice didn’t hold it against them. My husband the horny animal. Yup.
“Mr. Sidney and I will be reviewing some of the policies around here, but I want to reaffirm that there are no plans to downsize or lower pay. This meeting is mostly a formal announcement and to answer questions you have. Ask them. I don’t want to see needless speculation in the press.” Sid had already told the Monroes that the tabloids had come knocking once they heard about the sale.
The rest of the meeting was boring on both ends, but necessary. There was grumbling that out of all the employees to move up this far in rank, it had to be the girl who got fired her first night. For the most part, however, the employees were smart enough to keep it to themselves. Susan was the only one who kept looking askance at Alice.
She didn’t care. So what if someone else didn’t like her now? Susan would not be the last.
***
“Who’s Clarise?” Alice asked her husband when he stopped by her office after she returned from The Dark Hour. The name had popped up multiple times in the family history tracks, but there was never any real explanation. Just constant references to some woman named Clarise. Clarise who? Clarise Monroe? No Google or internal searches of the files she had so far turned up anyone by that name, alive or dead.
Monroe swung one leg over the other as he relaxed in one of the black chairs before his wife’s desk. “Clarise Livingston?”
“I have not seen a last name. She certainly isn’t a Monroe.” Alice closed the window on her computer and matched her husband’s posture. “It’s driving me a bit crazy.”
“If it’s Livingston, that was my great-grandmother. She raised my father after my grandparents passed away. Died of cancer before I was born, though.”
“…Huh.” Alice knew that Monroe’s paternal grandparents had died in a boating accident, but she hadn’t figured out what happened to young Russell afterward. I assumed he grew up with a trust the size of Texas and had random guardians looking after him. Would’ve explained his antisocialism. “Your father was raised by a single woman?”
“My great-grandfather died and she remarried a Livingston. They divorced before the accident.” Monroe shrugged. “Why? Is that strange?”
Alice didn’t directly answer that. “Was she the one who brokered the marriage between your parents?”
“Don’t think so. My grandparents had laid that groundwork before they died. They wasted no time after my father was born.”
“Except this Clarise must have been the one to sign off on it. Your parents didn’t marry until years later.”
“Suppose so.” Monroe furrowed his brows. “Why does it matter? Filling in the blanks?”
Alice glanced at one of her desk drawers. “There are a lot of blanks that need filling around here.”
“Precious.” Monroe leaned across her desk, hand taking hers. His thumb grazed her wedding ring. “You’re uptight. Relax. Don’t get overwhelmed with unnecessary details.” His devilish grin was the only thing she needed to start relaxing. “Do you need me to assist? We haven’t done it in your office yet.”
“Only yours.”
“There’s a couch over there with our names on it.”
Alice took her hand back. “Maybe later. I’m too jittery.”
“You’re not drinking caffeine, are you?”
No, Dr. Monroe. He liked to think he was her obstetrician now. “Work stuff.”
“Like I said, you need to calm down. How about I get you an in-office massage?” His fingers drummed on the desk. “Starting with my healing hands.” Before Alice could protest, he stood and rounded her desk, hands shooting for her shoulders. Fuck, man. She hated to admit how badly she needed this massage right now. Groaning, Alice leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The tense feelings in her neck and upper back began easing out of her body. It helped that her husband had a skillful pair of hands that he knew how to use. How many times had he used them to make her come so far? It felt like hundreds of times. “How’s that? Better?”
Alice laughed. “Don’t you have your own work to be getting back to? I know I do. Got some blanks I need to fill here.”
“Speaking of arranged marriages.” Monroe was a master at also avoiding questions, wasn’t he? “I had a business lunch with Henry Warren today. He had a few jokes about us joining familial forces in twenty to thirty years. What in the world did you tell his wife last week?”
“It wasn’t me. Candice was cracking wise that I’m already staring at their baby like she’s my possible daughter-in-law. Everyone knows our reputation precedes us.”
“Hm. That could be problematic.” The massage stopped. “Once we formally announce your pregnancy, I wouldn’t be surprised if some more traditional families around the world start approaching us. Of course, I’ll turn them down.”
Every time this whole arranged marriage thing came up, Alice thought of her in-laws. A couple so unhappy that the one took it out on the other. I could never do that to my daughter… or my son. What if they ended up in a situation like Julia Monroe had? I would never be able to live with myself.
Monroe made several attempts to get beneath his wife’s skirt, even going so far as to say, “Damnit, Alice, I am so hard right now that if you won’t make love to me I’ll have to lock myself up in your bathroom. And it won’t be to cry. Maybe I should tell you it’s an order?” Too bad for him, Alice was not in the mood. Her mind was working a mile a minute, and quite frankly, her body was too tender even for the most languid lovemaking. Almost feels like PMS. Alice tried not to think about it.
“You don’t get to come into my office and make those sorts of demands, Damon. Not unless I summoned you first.”
“Summoned… sheesh. I see who’s cracking the whip now. I’ll get you back later.”
Her husband did not go into her bathroom. He did, however, pout his way out of her office, passing Alisha on her way in.
“Do me a favor?” Alice said the moment her assistant was within hearing range. “If you get some time soon, I want you to look up everything you can about Clarise Livingston. She used to be a Monroe.”
Alisha’s expression barely changed. “Sounds familiar.”
“Apparently not familiar enough. Can you do it?”
“Absolutely, ma’am.”
“Good.” Alice continued to ignore the envelope in her desk drawer. Whoever this Clarise was, she had something to do with Alice’s current situation. Call it a hunch. If being a Monroe for a few weeks had taug
ht her anything, it was that hunches and gut feelings were the ruling class around there.
Chapter 15
Alice and Damon’s first formal appearance as husband and wife was the small talk of a smaller town leading up to a fundraising dinner on Wednesday night. Alice, dressed in a black Chanel dress and wearing her hair up with her diamond clasp, was the object of more pap photos than her husband was. Great. I’m a fucking style icon. Unlike the first time she faced the paps, however, she walked with her chin up and gait as commanding as her husband’s. The captions would later say “Mrs. Alice Monroe catches everyone’s attention at Wednesday’s Pray For Peace Fundraiser.” Candice called her late Thursday night to give her shit for the resting bitch face. That’s not resting. That’s active. Alice learned that if she looked like a hardened bitch, people left her alone. Almost like walking down a dark street at night.
That wasn’t her only chance to show off how she had changed in such little time. When Russell tried intimidating her again Thursday morning, Alice walked right past him, rolling her eyes and asking Dee if she heard a fly buzzing in the room. Russell was not impressed.
Her mother called, asking if she would be around for her father’s birthday. Alice didn’t even want to think about that scheduling nightmare. She was due to go over details regarding The Dark Hour with Sid at some point… as soon as he got back to her… good God, had Alisha figured that out yet?
If Alice ever needed help understanding why her husband was into the things he was, she definitely got it now. He was not the only one surprised when she snapped at the receptionist to hold all of her husband’s calls and meetings for a half hour so she could march into his office, lock the door, and demand that he fuck her. Monroe barely had time to reschedule a phone call when his wife had ripped off her panties and hopped in his lap, eager for sex. Not that he complained, of course.
“I’m like three paces away from needing a real vacation already,” Alice said to Candice during their Thursday night phone conversation. She was still stuck in her office, Monroe at a business dinner that didn’t need to include her. More time for her to stay behind until seven and clean up some of her own loose ends. I’ve bought so many shares of my husband’s company today that I have million-dollar whiplash. “This shit can’t be over soon enough so I can go on my honeymoon and spend my days working on my tan and getting fucked into oblivion.”
All Alice could think about was going home, dressing in some nice lingerie, and texting Monroe to come home as soon as possible… sir. She wanted his tender yet domineering touch tonight. She wanted to check out from reality. Be blindfolded. Be gagged. Be tied up and told she was a dirty girl who only existed to serve her Master’s desires. I’ve been so bad at holding up my end of the Dom/sub thing. The more she worked and fretted, the less she took care of things at home. Monroe hadn’t said anything, but Alice was worried.
“You should come over to my new place sometime and say hello to Pete. We’ll have a girl’s night in. Remember when we used to watch all those Matt Damon movies back to back because we had no souls?”
Alice giggled. Her office was dark and quiet. The summer was advanced enough that it was already night. Fucking September.
“That sounds so awesome. Just no margaritas for me anymore.”
“Oh, why’s that?”
Alice bit her lip. “Well, you can’t tell anyone, but…”
“Oh my God!” Candice shrieked. “You’re preggers!”
“Don’t ever call it that again, Candi. I swear.” Next she would be calling Alice a pasta sauce brand. “And maybe. Too early to really tell. I think so, though.” Another thing she tried not to think about. Didn’t help that she always had cramps and her breasts were spilling out of her bras. So much for modest-chest Alice. Pregnant Alice was all about balloon breasts. Thanks, body. At least she had the money to deal with it now?
“Girl, that’s so amazing. Congrats?”
“Yeah, it’s a good thing.” That’s what she told herself.
Alice hung up and finished clearing up her desk so she wouldn’t have to return to the mess the next morning. Dinner. Shower. Sex. In that order, as soon as she got home.
(Okay, maybe the sex before the shower.)
“Ma’am,” a tired Dee said, poking her head in. She held up her phone. “I’ve got a call from my boss I have to take.”
“All right. I’m going to head down. Meet you in the car.” Alice had already summoned her driver to wait for her curbside.
Dee nodded before stepping out. Alice texted Monroe to tell him she was heading home. “So am I. Be there in half an hour, my love. Let’s relax together.” Alice caught that text the moment she locked up her office.
“Oh!” Startled, she stared at Ms. Sarah Clayborn sitting in an otherwise empty executive office. I never see her like this. By herself, at a tiny desk, rubbing her temples and going through some late night work herself. Pay her more, Damon. “Good night, Ms. Clayborn.”
The woman glanced up from her papers. “Good night, Mrs. Monroe.”
Alice was walking past the occupied desk when Ms. Clayborn opened her mouth again.
“The elevator’s still out. Sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Sighing, Alice swung a right toward the stairs. “I need a workout I guess. Night.”
Her footsteps echoed in the stairwell. One floor. Two floors. Three. Five. Ten. Ow. My feet. Alice was too tired to deal with this. At least she got to work before the elevator died. But when it blew out around noon, more than one person was stuck trekking up the stairs for meetings. Well, minus that one guy who insisted on doing it via Skype while he sat in the lobby.
Alice was at the tenth floor of her family’s high-rise (still a strange thought to ponder) when the door to the hallway flew open.
“Wait a…” A hand slapped her on the back – and sent her tumbling down the stairs with nothing but a scream of panic to accompany her.
***
Alice lay in her bed, dressed in a simple lavender negligee while bodyguard and husband fought before her.
“I told you, I got no idea what happened!” Dee was probably the only person in the world willing to go against a boss named Damon Monroe. “She went ahead of me, and next thing I knew I was coming down the stairwell to find her like I did on the landing!”
Monroe’s wild amber eyes kept looking between Alice and Dee. “What the fuck happened, Alice!”
She flinched. I hate it when he gets like this. Once Monroe decided something was worth freaking out about, he went nuts. This was not Alice’s first time hearing him like this, but it was one of the few times it was ever directed at her. Always about my safety. There were downsides to having a protector – whether that protector was her husband or her bodyguard.
“I don’t know. I… I was going down the stairs…” Tears of fright shuddered down her cheek. “Then I fell down. I must have tripped.”
Someone pushed me.
Alice remembered. She didn’t say this, however, because she had no idea who it was.
She was relatively uninjured. Some bumps. A couple of scrapes. Her hand hurt from where she braced herself, but it would only bruise. She hoped, anyway. None of it was enough to make her go back to the hospital again. Instead, when she came to under Dee’s watchful gaze, the first thing out of Alice’s mouth was, “Take me home!”
They couldn’t hide what happened from Monroe, though. Alice let Dee deal with that.
“Why the fuck were you not with her? The fuck am I paying you for?”
“I got a call from my boss saying he got a call from you!”
“I never called anyone tonight!”
“Well that’s what happened! My boss made it sound like a damn emergency so I took the call, and Mrs. Monroe went ahead of me anyway. You want me to chain her up when I’m not around?” Dee didn’t know when the hell to stop talking. “Or is that your job?”
Alice sucked in her breath.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Monro
e jerked his thumb toward the bedroom doorway. “Get out of here. You’re lucky I’m not firing you.”
Dee sent Alice a hot look before leaving. Monroe slammed the door behind her.
“You fire her and I’m firing you,” Alice muttered. “You may be paying her, but I’m the one who gets to make that decision.” Why wouldn’t the tears stop falling? “You don’t get to control everything around here.”
His mouth opened to spout something else at her. Yet Monroe caught himself the moment he also caught the aura of fear emanating from his wife. No, love, I’m not afraid of you. That was probably what he feared, though. After finding out what happened to his mother? Monroe spent many words assuring his wife that he would never treat her like that. “I don’t want you to ever fear me like my mother feared my father. Do you understand me? I’m your husband, not your nightmare.”
Now he reminded himself of that before coming over to Alice’s side of the bed. He knelt, taking her hand and holding it to his face. “If anything ever happened to you, my love, I would die. Do you understand?” Was he crying too? No, he wasn’t, but that wasn’t anger in his ambers anymore. That was fear. Fear that she would be hurt, and there was nothing he could do about it. Don’t tell me our quick and dirty romance would end so soon and with so much hurt. Alice didn’t want it to. Outside forces, though…
She really couldn’t tell him that someone had pushed her, could she? That would only make things worse. Not until I can remember who it was. Alice put her hand on her stomach. Monroe glanced at this motion.
“You okay?” Was he asking her or their potential baby?
“I think I’m fine. Just a little sore. Let me stick it out tonight. If I think something is really wrong tomorrow, I’ll go to the doctor. As it is, I only fell down a few stairs. Please, Damon, don’t worry too much about it. I was tired and hungry. I slipped.”
