Messing with Miki (A MFM Ménage Romance) (Playing For Love Book 5)
Page 19
Oliver:
The next morning, Ambrose Sutton calls an emergency board meeting. As I expected.
This is it.
Five years ago, Finn and I founded Imperium. We worked long hours, we made some smart decisions, and we had more than our fair share of luck as well. We’ve shepherded our company to the brink of going public.
Kent wants to take that away from me.
Fitzgerald wants to see me fail.
I won’t let them succeed.
At the dot of nine, Finn, Miki, and I walk into the boardroom. The other five members of the board are already there. Ambrose Sutton is sitting at the head of the table. To his right is Lawrence Kent, and next to him are seated Sebastian Fitzgerald and Claudia, who doesn’t meet my eyes.
Yes. The moment I see Fitzgerald there, triumph fills me. We’ve gambled and we’ve won.
The moment we stopped asking why Kent would be interested in hurting the IPO, the answer was clear enough. Kent doesn’t want to leak the client list to the general public. He just wants Finn and me gone.
As soon as Kent sees Miki, he’s on his feet, his face red with rage. “What’s she doing here?” he demands. “Ambrose, this is a meeting for the executives. I don’t think it’s appropriate that Ms. Cooper attend.”
“On the contrary,” I reply, “Miki’s extremely vital to this meeting.”
Ambrose Sutton frowns at me. “Lawrence has brought some fairly serious allegations to the board, Prescott,” he says.
“I’m aware of the nature of these allegations,” I say calmly. “I can assure you that Miki’s presence here is related to that.”
“Oh, let the young woman attend, for heaven’s sake, Sutton,” Barbara Rhodes says, rolling her eyes in impatience. She turns toward me. “You’re not wasting my time, are you, Prescott? Sanders?”
“No, ma’am.”
We take our seats. Kent’s expression is nervous as Ambrose Sutton clears his throat. “I want to thank everyone for attending this meeting on such short notice. As I said, Kent called me last night. He told me some things that quite frankly, I found extremely disturbing. Lawrence, why don’t you tell the board what you told me?”
“Sure.” The man’s eyes dart from Finn to Miki to me, then he seems to gather himself. “A month ago, Sebastian Fitzgerald approached me with a serious problem. A hacker had offered to acquire Imperium’s client list for him. For a fee.” He looks up. “The hacker was Ms. Cooper.”
Miki stiffens in outrage at my side, and I place my hand on her lap. There’s nothing to worry about. We’ve got this.
David Blake inhales sharply. “Is this true?”
Sebastian Fitzgerald nods solemnly. “Last night, Ms. Cooper sent me Imperium’s client list, and I paid her the agreed-upon amount. One hundred thousand dollars.” He holds up a thumb drive. “I don’t need to tell you what a problem this would create if the breach went public. Of course,” he continues sanctimoniously, “I’m not interested in causing harm.”
Virginia Mullins looks troubled. “Ask yourself this,” Kent says, leaning forward and looking at each of the board members in the eye. “Oliver Prescott and Finn Sanders personally interviewed Ms. Cooper and decided to hire her. Our COO,” he says, his gaze swiveling to Finn, “is responsible for our data security. Has either of them done their job to your satisfaction?”
Even Miguel Vazquez, our ally on the board, frowns.
“There’s one more thing. Something Oliver Prescott has kept secret from you. This one is a personal matter, but I still think it’s relevant because it shows another example of poor judgment. Ms. Weaver, if you don’t mind telling the board?”
Claudia looks somber. My ex-wife really missed her calling. She’d do great in Hollywood. “I didn’t want to be here,” she says, her lips trembling. “But Sebastian convinced me that I need to tell the truth.”
Finn coughs into his hand.
Claudia glares at the interruption. “During our marriage, Oliver pressured me to do things that I wasn’t comfortable with. He forced me to attend a bondage club with him, and he tied me up several times in our home.” Her voice catches. “He did more than tie me up. He whipped me, and he took naked photos of me.”
Barbara Rhodes fixes me with a cool glare. “Prescott? Is this true?”
This is our only wild card. Even if we succeed in discrediting Fitzgerald and Kent, the board members could still end up believing Claudia. Still, I can’t cower in fear of the photos, and I’m definitely not giving my gold-digging, cheating ex-wife any portion of my company. “No, it isn’t. I didn’t force Claudia into bondage, and I definitely didn’t take pictures of her against her consent.”
“Oh please, Oliver,” Claudia says dramatically. “Stop lying. Don’t make things harder than they have to be.”
Kent jumps in before I can reply. “I called Mr. Sutton last night,” he says solemnly. “I’m concerned for our company. Is this the kind of leadership we need ahead of the IPO?”
Sutton turns to Finn and me. “Prescott, I’d like to hear from you.”
I smile blandly at Lawrence Kent and Sebastian Fitzgerald. “Let’s dissect this fanciful tale, piece by piece. According to Fitzgerald, Miki approached him. Miki?”
She shakes her head. “On February fourteenth,” she says clearly, “someone I only knew as User0989 approached me on a hacker forum. He offered me a hundred grand for Imperium’s client list.”
She looks around the room. “This person also told me that the only way I could get into Imperium’s network was from the inside, and he assured me he could get me a job here.”
I clear my throat. “Coincidently, at the same time, two things happened. Alessandra Mirova, our security expert on Shield, was in a bad car accident, and Lawrence had borrowed another member of the team. Because we were at risk of missing our deadlines, I asked Mary MacDonald to hire two developers.”
So far, we’ve told the truth. Now, we’re going to bend it a little. I don’t want the board to know that Miki had tried to hack Imperium to find out what her brother-in-law was hiding. That’s between the three of us.
Miki picks up the story. “I’ve known Oliver and Finn for a few months, so naturally, I told them everything. We needed to uncover User0989’s identity.”
Finn speaks up. “Miki was able to determine that User0989 was someone who worked at Imperium.”
Kent’s face goes white. “What?” he blusters. “Are you going to take the word of some hacker against Sebastian Fitzgerald’s?”
“I want to hear her story,” Barbara Rhodes says firmly. “How were you able to reach that conclusion, Ms. Cooper?”
Miki plugs her laptop and casts her screen on her projector. “On the day of my interview, I was supposed to meet Mary MacDonald and Sachin Sharma. It was only after I got into the Imperium offices that Mary told me that I'd be meeting Finn and Oliver.” She gestures to the screen. “This was the conversation I had with User0989 that evening, after my interview. Notice anything strange?”
Everyone’s head pivots to read the conversation between Miki and User0989.
User0989: Well? What happened?
Mouse: What do you mean?
User0989: Don’t play games with me, Ms. Cooper. I know you interviewed with Prescott and Sanders at Imperium an hour ago.
Kent’s shoulders slump. He’s seen it. “How would someone who wasn’t at our offices know about the change of plan?” Finn asks. “So I did a little more digging. That message that Miki put on the screen was, as you can see, sent at five in the evening. We were able to identify the IP address used to access the hacker forum. It came from a conference room that three people were occupying. One of them,” he says, “was Lawrence Kent.”
Multiple people gasp. “This is preposterous,” Kent splutters. “She was paid a hundred grand for the client list that’s in Fitzgerald’s possession. How do you account for that?”
I grin widely. “Ah, the client list. The smoking gun. Fitzgerald, if you don’t mind?” I hold out
Sutton reads the screen with a frown. “If you can’t see it,” Finn says, “look at the renewal date.”
“January first of this year.” Sutton’s forehead is furrowed. “But we’re closing that division. I wanted to renew, but I couldn’t.”
Finn nods. “Yesterday evening,” he says, “I did two things. I gave Miki a copy of a falsified client list to give to User0989. Prior to that, I uploaded the same fake list to our network. Only one person accessed the fake list last night, most likely to verify that Miki gave him the right information.” He pauses for a second. “It was Kent.”
Multiple conversations erupt around the table. Just then, the doors to the board room fling open, and four cops enter. I recognize Detective Larsen of the NYPD. “Sebastian Fitzgerald,” he says, “You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder in the hit-and-run accident on Alessandra Mirova. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”
We watch in shock as Fitzgerald is cuffed and led out of the room.
There is a vote, of course, but it’s a formality. Kent’s out. We’ve won.
“What now?” Miki asks once we’re back in our office.
Finn smiles wickedly. “Well,” he says, “do you remember the time we fooled around in the office?”
Her eyes fill with desire. “I do.”
“Oliver went down on you that day. I’ve been waiting for my turn.”
She laughs breathlessly. “Is this what I have to look forward to? The two of you fighting to pleasure me?” Her smile lights up the room. “In that case, I’m completely on board.”
Epilogue
True love stories never have endings.
Richard Bach
Miki:
Thanksgiving Day…
Thanksgiving should be a time of gratitude and reflection.
I’m completely on board.
“This is my favorite holiday.” I jump out of bed in the morning and open the curtains wide. A weak November sun shines into our bedroom, its rays falling over my two sleeping partners.
Oliver groans and buries his face under a pillow. “Miki, for the love of all that is good, let me sleep.”
“I did. It’s almost ten.” Finn doesn’t stir. He’s cocooned in a bundle of blankets, with only his right foot sticking out. With great virtue, I refrain from tickling his toes and make my way into the kitchen. They’ll get up once I get the coffee going.
At ten in the morning, exactly one year ago, I’d just arrived at Houston's George Bush Intercontinental Airport, ready to board a flight to JFK. My life had been in shambles. I had no job, no home, and no relationship.
What a difference a year makes.
Imperium’s IPO was a huge success. Not Facebook-level successful, of course, but pretty damn good. The stock price has risen almost fifty percent since the IPO. Even Ambrose Sutton, the normally pessimistic Chairman of the Board, concedes that Oliver and Finn have done a good job.
Of course, Ambrose’s disapproval had thawed greatly after the Lawrence Kent boardroom meltdown. The older man had been dismayed at his error in judgment. He’d had a long talk with Finn and Oliver later that day, and he offered them his resignation. Oliver had turned him down. “I don’t want someone to rubber-stamp my every decision, Mr. Sutton,” he’d said. “At the same time, I do know what I’m doing. Keep me honest, of course, but we’re both working for the same team.”
Oliver and Finn still grumble about the board from time to time, but the relationship has improved by leaps and bounds.
NYPD arrested Sebastian Fitzgerald and charged him with conspiracy to commit murder for his role in Alessandra’s accident. Unfortunately, Fitzgerald had access to an army of lawyers, who fought like crazy to get his sentence reduced. Fitzgerald should have been locked up for life, but he only got three years.
Still, Kliedara’s board voted to fire Fitzgerald. And of course, Claudia dumped him as soon as the NYPD handcuffed him. Claudia is a gold-digger with very dodgy morals, but even she couldn’t turn a blind eye to what he’d done.
Imperium fired Kent, of course. Word got around about why the CFO was let go so close to the IPO. He hasn’t been able to get another job, and I doubt that that’ll change anytime soon.
As I predict, both Oliver and Finn emerge when the aroma of coffee fills the apartment. They shuffle like zombies toward the caffeine, and I watch them with an indulgent smile.
Finn catches a glimpse of my expression. “Don’t look so smug,” he says. “I can’t remember the last time you woke up before us.”
Oliver adds milk and sugar to his coffee and sits down at the table. He doesn’t speak until he drains his first cup. “What time are we due at Piper’s restaurant?”
“Three. I told her we'd come early to help.”
Finn raises his eyebrow. “Piper and Sebastian are Michelin-starred chefs. Won’t we just get in their way?”
As if Piper’s going to let me cook. My skills in the kitchen are somewhat lacking. And that’s putting it kindly. “We’re in charge of setting the tables. There’s going to be more than twenty people for dinner.”
Over the years, our little circle has grown by leaps and bounds. Last Thanksgiving was loud and boisterous. This year promises to be ever more so.
“Hudson’s going to be there, right?” Oliver asks, getting up for his second cup of coffee. He refills my mug as well, and I smile my thanks at him. “I want to talk to him about a new office for Imperium.” His lips curl into a grin. “Assuming you’re okay with it, of course.”
I heave a sigh of exasperation. “Stop it,” I tell him. “I don’t own Imperium. Those stupid pieces of paper weren’t legally binding, and in any case, I tore them up.”
Finn’s eyes dance with amusement. “How do you know we didn’t just write another copy?” he inquires silkily.
I glare at him. “Stop joking. It’s bad enough that the two of you hired me to be the CFO last month. Everyone thinks the only reason I got the job is because I’m sleeping with both of you.”
Oliver shakes his head. “I beg to disagree,” he says. “You got the job because you’ve got the financial background and the hacking chops.”
Finn clears his throat. “We’re talking about work,” he points out. “Aren’t you always telling me that I’m a workaholic? Pot, meet kettle.”
I laugh. “Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?”
He winks at me. “A nice, hot shower,” he says. “A beautiful woman washing my back. And maybe some lazing around in bed afterward?”
Hey, it’s Thanksgiving. It’s a holiday dedicated to food and gratitude, and I’m pretty grateful that Oliver and Finn are a part of my life. “I’m on board with all those things.”
Four months ago, the apartment directly underneath Oliver’s penthouse had gone on the market, and Oliver had instantly snapped it up. Technically, I still live in Wendy’s old apartment, but the three of us are moving in together in January.
“I don’t know why you want to wait,” Oliver had grumbled.
“This year, I was miserable in January,” I’d replied. “I want a clean slate. New year, new apartment.Besides,” I’d added, “If I have to live here during the renovations, I’m going to go crazy.”
Which all sounds good in theory. In practice, I haven’t been back to Wendy’s apartment in over a week, and I have more clothes in the closet here than I do back home.
The renovation was supposed to take two months. Even with all the money Oliver and Finn threw at it, it took three. The new apartment is worth the wait though. An open-concept living space with exposed brick walls, three large bedrooms, and a master bathroom so beautiful that I want to cry in happiness every single time I shower.
It’s the shower we make our way to right now. Finn leads the way, and I follow. Oliver doesn’t join us right away. I’ve removed my pajamas and am about to wriggle out of my panties when he shows up, a bottle of champagne in one hand and three flutes in the other. “I don’t know if you remember,” he says, “but exactly a year ago today, we met for the first time.”
“I remember.” How could I forget? I thought I’d won the plane lottery when the two tall, good-looking men had sat on either side of me.
He sets the glasses on the counter, pops the cork and fills the flutes. We each take one and lift it in the air. “This has been the best year of my life,” Finn says seriously, clinking his glass against mine. “Here’s to many more.”
I take a sip of the cold liquid. Oliver’s eyes gleam with heat. His hand curls around the neck of the bottle, and he rolls the glass over my nipples. “Hey,” I say indignantly. “That’s cold.”
“Want me to stop?” A small smile plays about his lips. Oliver knows me. He knows exactly what I’m going to say.
“No.”
“Then drink your champagne, honey.” Finn’s voice is smooth and firm. “And let us drink ours.” He holds the glass over my chest and drips the ice-cold liquid over my breasts.
My nipples pebble instantly. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I shiver, my pussy slick with heat. “Are you cold, sweetie?” Oliver asks sympathetically. His thumb smears the champagne into my skin, and his tongue follows, lapping at the liquid. His mouth closes over my nipple, its warm heat a delicious contrast to the sharp cold of the champagne.
My breathing catches. “More,” I beg. “Please.”
Finn moves me until the back of my knees hit the edge of the large tub. “Sit,” he instructs. I perch on the ledge, and fresh goosebumps rise on my skin as my ass meets cold porcelain. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says, his lips quirking at my expression. “I’ll warm you up.”
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