Playing with Piper (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing for Love Book 3)

by Tara Crescent

  “He’s got to be spending thousands of dollars on this stunt. What’s the point? He might get the customers through the door if he wins Can You Take The Heat?, but he’s not going to keep them. His food is garbage.”

  Owen doesn’t reply. His eyes are fixed on the judges’ table. Three of the judges, Maisie, George Nicolson and Anita Tucker are digging into their meals with every sign of enjoyment, but the fourth, John Page, has just raised his hand to attract Gina’s attention.

  “The fucker,” I rage helplessly, as John Page sends his food back.

  We’ve underestimated Max Emerson. I knew he was sleazy, but I didn’t think he was capable of devising a plan this devious. The judges aren’t going to question the low public scores when they come out. Why would they? All evening long, they’ve seen food get sent back to the kitchen.

  Owen speaks up, his voice grim. “I think we’ve lost.”

  Though I don’t want to face that truth, I’m afraid that Owen’s right.

  42

  None of us is as smart as all of us.

  Ken Blanchard

  Piper:

  There’s total silence in the kitchen at the end of the night. We’re not fools. We can all read the writing on the wall. We’ve been out-maneuvered tonight.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell Josef, knowing it isn’t just my dreams that have been dashed tonight.

  “The contest was just a shortcut, Chef Jackson,” he says, calmer than I expected. “I’ll go home and drown my sorrows in drink, and tomorrow, I’ll be prepared to take the long way around.” He lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “We played by the rules and the other guys didn’t. How can you win when your opponent is prepared to lie and cheat?”

  I pat his shoulder. We wipe the counters down in silence. Josef, Kevin and Salim file out through the back when they are done. I remove my apron, wondering where Owen and Wyatt are, when they step through the doors.

  “We’ve lost, haven’t we?” I ask them.

  Wyatt nods grimly. “I’m so sorry, Piper,” he says, his voice gentle. He reaches for me, and the two of them envelop me in their arms. We stay in a three-way hug for a very long time.

  Finally, we break apart. I turn to the freezer and extract my bottle of vodka. We drank half of it the night we became friends. Tonight seems a perfect time to finish the other half. “Josef said he was going to get drunk tonight,” I tell them. “I think there’s something to that idea.”

  “Sláinte,” Owen says with a twist of his lips. “Shall we head home first? Jasper will be wondering where we are.”

  I snort and grab the parcel of fish I’ve saved for my cat. “I’m ready to bet good money that Jasper will be fast asleep when we get home. But he’ll wake up to eat this catfish.” My tone is wry. “He might as well. No one else ate it tonight.”

  Wyatt puts his arm around me. “I want to beat Max Emerson into a bloody pulp,” he says.

  “You’ll have to wait in line.” Owen’s voice is hard. “One way or another, Emerson is going to pay for tonight.” He looks up at me. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your mother said that your cousin Angelina and her friends will be drinking in the Four Seasons bar tonight, and you should come and join them when you’re done here.”

  I’m exhausted. I don’t have either the energy or the desire to deal with my family right now. I want to sit on the roof and look at the stars, drink a couple of shots of vodka with Owen and Wyatt, and numb the sting of failure. And when I’ve done that, I want nothing more than to curl up between their warm bodies and fall asleep.

  Angelina can wait until tomorrow. “Screw that,” I say decisively. “Let’s go home. I have a cat to feed and vodka to drink.”

  * * *

  Owen:

  We’ve each done two shots of vodka and are contemplating a third when my phone rings. I frown at it. It’s almost two in the morning. Who would be calling this late?

  “Owen?” The voice at the other end is hesitant. “Is that you? It’s me, Patrick.”

  Patrick Sarsfield. The uncle I haven’t spoken to in seventeen years.

  I have so much to ask him. Is he well; is he safe? Does he have a family now? But I bite those words back. My uncle has waited almost three weeks to return my call. I have to believe that he’s nervous about talking to me.

  “How are you?” I ask instead. A bland, generic greeting.

  “Alive.”

  Talk about stating the obvious. “Yes, I see that.” My voice is dry.

  “Why did you call?” my uncle asks bluntly. “How did you get my number?”

  I leave Aisling Rahilly out of this. There’s no point getting her in trouble. “I heard a rumor that Seamus Cassidy is out of jail.”

  “No,” he replies at once. “Your source is wrong. Everyone’s locked up.”

  I exhale. Wyatt’s been telling me from the start that Mendez has been lying to me. Now, there’s proof.

  “That’s all I needed to know. Thank you.”

  “Don’t call me again,” he says harshly. “I have a wife and a daughter now. I want them to stay alive, Owen.”

  “It won’t happen again.” My voice is soft. I understand my uncle’s feelings. I wouldn’t risk talking to him if it meant endangering Piper and Wyatt.

  For a while after I hang up, there’s silence. Then Piper breaks it hesitantly. “Was that your uncle?”

  I nod. “Mendez lied to me,” I say wearily. “There’s no gang activity in Hell’s Kitchen. Whatever he’s looking for has nothing to do with the Westies. He’s been lying to me so that I’ll do his dirty work for him.” My voice is bitter. “Honesty seems to be a thing of the past.”

  Piper links her hand in mine. “That’s what Josef said tonight,” she says. “He said there’s no way to win if your opponent is prepared to lie and cheat.”

  “He’s right.” I gaze into the distance, angry at Mendez’s betrayal, and at the way I let myself be played by him.

  “Here’s a thought.” There’s an intensity to Wyatt’s voice that causes both of us to start. “What if Josef is right? The deck has been stacked against us right from the start, because we’ve insisted on playing by the rules. What if we break them?”

  “What are you talking about, Wyatt?”

  “For Piper to make it to the finals, Emerson’s needs to be disqualified from the contest. How do we achieve that?”

  The realization of what needs to be done dawns on all of us at the same time. “Mendez wanted Max Emerson’s computer records,” Wyatt says. “If we break in and get a hold of them, I guarantee you Maisie Hayes will kick him out when she finds evidence of wrongdoing. Especially if John Page is involved.”

  I nod at Wyatt, excitement coiling in my belly. “Now?”

  “Are you crazy?” Piper jumps to her feet and glares at the two of us. “John Page was stopped by the cops two days ago. Everyone’s going to be on edge. Don’t you think Max Emerson is going to have guards watching his restaurant?”

  Wyatt shrugs. “That’s a risk we’re willing to take.”

  “No” She shakes her head. “It’s not worth it.” Her lips turn up in a smile, and her eyes gleam. “There’s a better way.”

  “There is?”

  “Yes.” She paces back and forth, her gait slightly unsteady from the vodka. “Max Emerson just screwed me over. What if tomorrow morning, just before his restaurant opens, I’m at his doorstep making a scene?”

  Wyatt catches on. “You’re going to be a distraction?”

  “Exactly.”

  “No.” My voice is flat. “I won’t risk your safety.”

  She glares at me. “I won’t be in any danger,” she says. “Max Emerson will be expecting me to react in some fashion. He won’t be surprised when I show up and yell. And while everyone’s busy dealing with my temper tantrum, the two of you can sneak in through the back and grab what you need.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “It could work.” Wyatt sounds thoughtful. “You remember how Emerson’s is laid out? The back door opens in
to a corridor which leads to Max’s office. We won’t even have to go past the kitchen to get to his computer. We’ll only need five minutes to get his data.”

  “Listen,” Piper says. “If you don’t think I can distract them for five minutes, you don’t know me. I’m great at tantrums. Really.”

  My lips twitch at her passion. “Are you, honey?” I ask her. “Show me.”

  “Are you going to let me help you tomorrow?” she demands.

  I exchange a glance with Wyatt. I don’t like it, but Piper and Wyatt are right. Piper won’t be in any danger.

  “We’re in this together, Owen,” she says softly. “All of us. We’re a team. Let me help, please.”

  “Okay,” I concede reluctantly. “If we wake up in the morning and still think this is a good idea, you can be our decoy.”

  Wyatt chuckles. “Now,” he says, with a suggestive leer, “shall we head to the bedroom and do something more fun?”

  * * *

  Piper:

  Lovemaking between the three of us is often intense and explosive. Tonight, it’s quieter and more contemplative. When we touch each other, it’s with tenderness. There’s still desire; there’s always desire, but as we make love, our connection seems to deepen.

  When Wyatt goes down on me, I feel one with him. When I suck Owen’s cock, it feels essential. When I’m lying back on the bed, moaning with need as their hands and mouths touch me everywhere, I feel cherished.

  I once told Owen and Wyatt that I didn’t enter this relationship because I wanted a threesome. It was because I wanted them, both of them, and I couldn’t separate my need and choose just one man.

  The feeling that the three of us are meant to be together amplifies with each passing day. At the start, I thought that a threesome was something strange and different. Now, it feels right.

  As I shudder out my climax, Owen’s face contorts with his release. Wyatt comes a minute later, and we lie there, legs and arms all tangled up in each other, breathing hard as we slowly return to earth.

  And I realize something. I’ve been nervous about telling my parents about my relationship, but there’s no need to be fearful. No matter how my parents react, it isn’t going to change the outcome. I can’t imagine life without Owen and Wyatt.

  43

  The world needs anger. The world often continues to allow evil because it isn't angry enough.

  Bede Jarrett

  Piper:

  Owen doesn’t like this plan. Wyatt’s not thrilled about it either, but I’m absolutely set on helping them. We’re in this together.

  Besides, as I’ve pointed out to Owen and Wyatt, my bodyguard Tomas is never going to be more than five paces from me, and he’s carrying a gun. I won’t be in danger.

  At ten-thirty, we set off to Emerson’s. As we get closer, we separate, as planned. Owen and Wyatt duck into the alleyway that runs behind the pub, and I march ahead, my spine straight. Tomas hovers just out of sight.

  With each step I take, I get angrier. Max Emerson is an asshole. I understand the desire to win, but I’d never stoop to this level. Gaming the public vote portion of the contest by hiring people to show up at my restaurant and send back food? When I see him, I’m going to punch him.

  I march up to the pub door and try to push it open. It’s locked, so I take out some of my frustration by banging on it with my fists, as hard as I can. In less than a minute, the door swings open and a big, beefy blond man steps out. “Hey,” he says indignantly, looking down at me. “What’s the matter with you? Do you want to break the door down?”

  “Yes,” I snap. “As a matter of fact, I do.” I deliberately try to push past him. “Where the fuck is Max Emerson? I want to see him.”

  I only swear when I’m very, very angry. I’m furious now. Maybe I won’t punch Max Emerson. Maybe I’ll knee him in the groin.

  “Mr. Emerson isn’t expecting anyone,” the blond hulk says.

  “You think I care about that?” I snarl at him. “Let me in. I need to see Max Emerson, and I need to kick his ass.”

  Drawn to the commotion, two more men appear. I bite back my grin. Good. Wyatt’s arranged for someone to watch Emerson’s all morning. They’ve reported that there are only four people in the pub, the three guards and Max Emerson himself. All I need to do is draw out Max and the way will be cleared for Owen and Wyatt to get what they need.

  “You’re going to kick his ass?” One of the newcomers, a guy with greasy black hair, gives me a scoffing look. “Really, honey? Shouldn’t you pick on someone your own size?”

  I show him my middle finger. “Either you find Max Emerson,” I tell him, giving him my best glare, the one I’ve learned from my mother, “or I’m pushing my way in and finding him myself.”

  My scowl is remarkably effective. All three of them draw back instinctively. “I’ll fetch Mr. Emerson,” the blond guy says, hurrying off.

  “Piper Jackson.” Max Emerson shows up in less than a minute, his lips curled into a sneer. “Shouldn’t you be at your restaurant? Oh wait, there’s no reason for you to be there. You’ve been knocked out of Can You Take The Heat?.”

  “You asshole,” I yell at him. “How dare you send your goons to my restaurant?”

  He smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Piper.” His voice is mocking. “Did your diners not like the food last night?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Did they send the food back to the kitchen?”

  His gaze hardens. “When you talk to your precious partners, Owen Lamb and Wyatt Lawless, do tell them I sent my regards.”

  I give him a steady look. “You cheated.”

  “If you can’t take the heat, Piper,” he says, “get out of the kitchen.”

  How long has he been talking to me? Long enough for Owen and Wyatt to get what they need? My phone buzzes in my pocket. That’s our pre-arranged signal. They’re done.

  “This isn’t over, Max.” I step right up to him, my expression cold. “You will regret crossing me.”

  He laughs in my face. “Go home, Piper. You’re done here.”

  I can’t take the heat? Max Emerson has no idea what’s about to hit him.

  44

  It always seems impossible until it's done.

  Nelson Mandela

  Wyatt:

  “Disqualified.”

  Two days later, Piper’s is back in the contest, and Emerson’s is out.

  Max Emerson’s computer was chock-full of information. The NYPD was exceedingly interested in the illegal gambling activity at Emerson’s, and is getting ready to indict Max Emerson, John Page, and a dozen other people.

  Maisie Hayes, on the other hand, honed in on the emails exchanged between Max Emerson and John Page. The messages showed the two of them plotting to get Emerson’s to win Can You Take The Heat?. When Maisie read the communication between the two of them, she was furious, and she acted immediately.

  John Page has been fired as a judge, and Emerson’s has been thrown out of the contest.

  And Piper’s is in the finals.

  The producer was gleeful about the drama. I’ve no doubt that when the show finally airs to the public, this will serve as a big reveal. “I bet we’ll get a huge ratings boost,” he said to me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. It took effort not to punch him.

  “What’s going on with your father?” Piper asks me, once the dust settles. “We’ve been so busy with the contest that I’ve hardly had time to ask you.”

  I shrug. “He’s disappeared. He hasn’t been back at the apartment he was staying at in two weeks. Stone Bradley’s looking for him.”

  “Have you made any decisions?” she asks. “Are you going to pay him?”

  “I don’t know.” The twenty-one days I had to form a plan has shrunk to seven. It’s Monday today. On Saturday, Piper will compete in the final round of Can You Take The Heat?. And on Sunday, I’ll have to either give into my father’s blackmail, or let the pictures of my mother’s house go public.

  She frowns. “I
hate the idea that your father might win,” she says. “The bad guys shouldn’t succeed. It’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair, Piper,” I reply philosophically. “I don’t like it either, but I don’t want my mother hurt. Even though she says she’s prepared for the gossip that’d break out when the photos are leaked to the tabloids, I don’t think she is. All her life, she’s kept her illness hidden from her friends and co-workers. I can’t out her. If it costs three million dollars to keep her secret, then so be it.”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” she concedes, frowning. “But I don’t have to like it.”

  “You’re not the only one, baby.”

  * * *

  It’s the night before the final round of Can You Take The Heat?. The three of us are having a late dinner when my phone rings. Stone Bradley’s number shows up on the display and I pick up the call. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Lawless,” Stone’s voice is crisp. “You asked me to let you know as soon as we located your father.”

  I sit up. “You know where he is?”

  “He signed a short term lease on a studio in Harlem, and he moved in today.” He reels off an address. “He’s at a neighborhood bar right now. Do you want me to put a tail on him?”

  “Yes.” If I’d had my father watched right from the start, he’d have never been able to ambush me at Piper’s. He’d have never been able to approach my mother without my knowledge. I’m not going to make this mistake twice. Not when the final round is tomorrow. Who knows what Jack Lawless could decide to do after a few drinks?

  I hang up and stare into space. In less than twenty-four hours, the contest will be in full swing. A few hours after that, I’ll meet my father and give him three million dollars, whether I like it or not.

  Owen clears his throat. “Are you okay, Wyatt?” he asks me.