One long Embrace

by Tina Folsom

  They weren’t just friends. The club was more like a brotherhood of men who respected and helped each other whenever necessary. Only months earlier the club had banded together to successfully dispel vicious rumors that Daniel’s then-fiancée and now-wife, Sabrina, was a call girl. Maybe now the gang could help him with something much easier. All seven of his fellow members—well, six members really, since Daniel had to leave the club on the day of his wedding—ran successful businesses and had the right contacts everywhere. One of them would know the ideal person for this job.

  Jay leaned back in his chair and stretched. There was nothing else he could do right now but wait. The sound of bare feet on the stairs made him swivel. He closed the computer just as Tara appeared.

  Jay ran his eyes over her as she approached him. She wore his bathrobe and by the looks of it nothing else. He could get used to that. To her.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked and sat down on his lap. She wrapped her arms around him as if she’d done so a million times.

  He drew her closer for a kiss, brushing softly over her impossibly red lips. “Good morning.” He casually put his hand on her thigh. “I wanted to let you rest after last night.”

  “I don’t need any rest.”

  He chuckled and loosened the belt of the robe so he could reach inside and caress her soft skin. “Looks like I’ve got myself an utterly insatiable woman who needs my constant attention.”

  Tara pouted. “I’m not needy. If that’s what you’re trying to say.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t trying to infer that at all. I was referring to your sexual appetite. It seems quite endless, or do I remember incorrectly how you rode me last night like the devil was chasing you?”

  She blushed like a schoolgirl.

  Jay palmed her breast and squeezed it softly while he rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “So I didn’t dream that, huh?”

  He shifted her on his lap, so that she was suddenly straddling him, her robe now wide open in front, her pussy lining up with his groin. He could already feel himself get hard.

  Tara sighed. “I wish we had time for more this morning, but it’s already past eight.”

  “So?” He ground his pelvis against her.

  “It’s Monday. Don’t you have to work on Zach’s house?”

  The question jolted him. Damn! He had to maintain his cover, and playing the rich bachelor who could afford to spend his entire day on a boat making love to a gorgeous woman wasn’t in the cards. He had to be Joe Ordinary, a man who worked with his hands and couldn’t just call in sick when he felt like it. Not that he ever did that as the CEO of his own company. He was no stranger to sixty-hour work weeks. But being the boss did have its perks. You could choose when to work and when to play. Apparently as Joe Ordinary you couldn’t.

  “Yeah, and that totally sucks right now,” he admitted and gave Tara a gentle slap on her cute ass. “Now you’d better get dressed, before you tempt me even more.”

  She smiled sinfully and stood up. “I tempt you?”

  Jay rose from the chair. “Don’t ask questions when you already know the answer to them.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Do you want breakfast before I leave?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll grab something in the village.”

  “In Amagansett?”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d catch a ride with you. I took the Jitney to the Hamptons, and I don’t have a car. You said the house is close to Amagansett, right?”

  He nodded numbly. Shit, she couldn’t take a ride with him. Not in his Ferrari. His gig would be up the moment she saw his car.

  “I need to get some things since I packed very little. Uh…” She suddenly hesitated. “Jay?”

  He was pulled from his thoughts. “Yes?”

  “Is it really okay if I stay with you on the boat for a while? I mean if you don’t want me to—”

  He put a finger over her lips. “No, no. I told you, I want you to stay.”

  A relieved smile spread over her face. “Good. Then let me just shower quickly and get dressed and you can drop me anywhere close to Amagansett.” She pivoted before he could come up with an excuse as to why this was a bad idea. An extremely bad idea.

  He had to think fast. There was no way he could let Tara know what car he drove. But he needed a car to get to the house. The boat was on one end of Montauk and the house practically on the opposite end.

  Jay snatched his cell phone off the desk and scrolled through his recent call list. Who was currently staying in the Hamptons and was close enough to get him a replacement car?

  Paul? No, Paul was back in New York, according to his sister. Instinctively, Jay rubbed his chin. The area was still a little sore from the punches Quentin had landed, but his bruises would heal.

  Daniel? Most likely he and Sabrina weren’t even up yet, though they were still staying at Daniel’s parents’ house in Montauk.

  Hunter? While he didn’t have a house on Long Island, he’d driven in from New York specially for the Gilberts’ party. At the party he’d mentioned that he was staying at a bed and breakfast in East Hampton. Definitely closer than Zach, whose house was located in Bridgehampton, a few miles farther south from Montauk. And Hunter was an early riser. Not to mention resourceful.

  Emergency, Jay texted. Need your help.

  What’s up? came an almost instant reply.

  Perfect.

  Need a junker car right now.

  Junker?

  Yes, a beat-up cheap car. Can you do it?

  Sure.

  Jay texted the location of where to park the car.

  Give me thirty minutes. Bring you the keys to the boat.

  No, Jay texted back immediately. Hand off keys secretly. Pretend you don’t know me.

  Something wrong?

  Just do me that favor.

  You got it.

  He liked Hunter. Hunter didn’t ask questions. Or at least he took care of things before asking for the skinny on a situation. Hunter was probably the member of the Eternal Bachelors Club who understood him best. Like Jay, Hunter had worked his way up. He didn’t have a rich family, but he had street smarts. Plenty thereof.

  And with some luck, Hunter would figure out a smart way to hand him the keys to whatever rust bucket he could scare up on short notice and make it look inconspicuous.

  15

  Her handbag slung diagonally across her torso, Tara accepted Jay’s hand as he helped her off the boat. He kept her hand in his as they walked down the long wooden dock that led to the shore. This was a quiet inlet on the west side of Montauk, not the Atlantic Ocean side. In these quieter inlets, houses had their own little piers for docking their yachts and sailboats.

  “I wonder why Zach docks his yacht here. Doesn’t he have a dock with the house you’re working on?” she asked out loud.

  “The dock at the house isn’t ready yet. We’re working on it.” Jay steered her toward a path, which led in between two large properties. High fences on either side of the walkway ensured privacy, and bushes and trees blocked the view to the large villas.

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Working on the house? Yeah, it’s a great project.”

  “It must be hard work though.”

  He shrugged. “I like it.”

  “It must be satisfying to have a job you enjoy,” she mused.

  Jay turned his head to look at her. “Don’t you have a job you enjoy?”

  “Not at the moment.” She felt ashamed to admit it. “I don’t have a job right now. I’m looking, but it’s not easy, particularly when your parents are constantly putting roadblocks in your way.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Tara sighed. “My father knows a lot of people. And whenever I apply for something that interests me, invariably somebody contacts him.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I have no real references, only one, where I did an internship. So any prospective employer figures why not talk to my father and find out if it’s w
orth hiring me?”

  “Let me guess: your father tells them not to bother.”

  She nodded. “I can’t be sure of it, but I have my suspicions. Most likely he’s not quite as blatant. But it only takes a few subtle hints. Something like, it would be so great if she got a little job until she got married, something to occupy her time for a while. I mean, who would hire somebody like that, thinking she’ll bail as soon as she gets an engagement ring on her finger?”

  “Hmm. Have you ever thought about applying for a position not using your real name? I mean, just until you got the job in the bag. Once they hire you, you can always tell them who you are. But at least then you’d know if it’s really your parents hindering you or not.”

  Tara stopped walking. “That’s a great idea! Why haven’t I thought of that before?”

  Jay winked. “Sometimes you’ve gotta combat deviousness with a little innocent deceit to get what you want. No harm in that.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I love design.”

  “That’s a broad field. There must be plenty of opportunities.”

  “Yes, there are, and I’m going to grab one of them.” She felt an instant boost to her self-confidence. Jay was right. She just needed to approach her application process differently.

  Smiling, Tara looked out to the street they’d just reached. Only a few cars were parked here. Most homes had large garages so that street parking in this area was unnecessary.

  A casually dressed man in his thirties, his cell phone pressed to his ear walked along the sidewalk. He didn’t seem to even notice them as he marched right toward them.

  “Yeah, yeah, I told him that, too. But what do I know?” the stranger said into the phone, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

  Tara pointed to the cars on the other side of the street. “Which one?” There were three of them: a red Ferrari, a beat up old pickup truck, and a rusty Toyota.

  “What?” Jay asked, appearing absent-minded, when the other man suddenly bumped him. Keys fell to the ground.

  “Hey, watch out!” the stranger said, pulling his phone from his ear.

  Jay and the stranger bent down at the same time, each of them retrieving their set of keys. “Maybe you shouldn’t walk and talk at the same time,” Jay commented.

  “Just watch where you’re going,” the stranger replied, clearly pissed off as he crossed the street and headed for the red Ferrari, clicking the remote to the car.

  Tara cursed under her breath. “Figures!” Of course the guy was rich, and he thought it gave him the right to be a jerk.

  Jay took her hand again. “Forget it.”

  “How can you be so calm? He was the one who ran into you. He should apologize.”

  Jay suddenly pulled her to him, his face close to hers. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, shifting her focus to more pleasant things instantly. “Guys like that don’t bother me.”

  He drew back and looked at the keys in his hand, then pointed to the pickup truck. “You sure you want to be seen driving into Amagansett in that rust bucket?”

  “Honestly, it doesn’t bother me.” She made sure her voice sounded firm. Clearly, Jay was embarrassed about the state of his car, and she wasn’t going to make him feel any worse.

  Moments later she sat in the passenger seat of the pickup truck, while Jay drove south on Montauk Highway. The drive was pleasant despite the Monday morning traffic.

  “Where do you want me to drop you off?” he asked, as they got to the border between Montauk and Amagansett.

  “Oh, anywhere, where it’s convenient. Where’s the construction site?”

  He slowed the vehicle, pulling up on the main street, which was lined with quaint shops. “It’s northeast of here, on Peconic Bay.”

  “Here’s fine then. Do you want me to meet you at the house later?” she asked.

  “It’s quite far. You won’t be able to walk from here.”

  “I can always take a taxi. What’s the address?”

  He pulled a little notepad from his pocket and scribbled down an address. “But don’t feel you have to go all the way out there. You can just call me later and I’ll pick you up in town again.” He handed her the piece of paper. “I’ve written down my cell number.”

  She bent across the bench and kissed him. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Tara jumped out of the car and watched him drive off.

  She headed for the first coffee shop she saw, bought a latte and installed herself at a table in the corner. Jay’s suggestion to apply for a job under a different name had boosted her confidence. It was the solution to her problems. If a prospective employer didn’t know her family name, her parents wouldn’t be able to interfere. She would get a job on her own merits—or not get it, which was a little scary too. What if she wasn’t good enough after all? What if the instructors in her design program had only praised her ideas because her father contributed generously at the university’s fundraisers? What if she had no talent at all?

  Trying to shake off the negative thoughts, Tara dug out her iPad from her handbag and switched it on. She had an impressive portfolio of design ideas for everything from fashion to interior and product design, which she’d built up during her studies. If only she could get it in front of the right person, she would land a job.

  While the iPad booted up, she pulled out her cell phone and switched it on. A voicemail was waiting for her. She cringed, sipping from her latte. Did her parents never give up? What were they threatening her with now?

  She pressed the button to listen to the recording.

  “Hey Tara, it’s Paul. Paul Gilbert. Listen, I have a job opportunity for you. Call me as soon as you get this.”

  Her heart nearly stopped. A job opportunity? She remembered that Paul had promised to let her know if any of his friends had any open positions she might be suitable for, but truthfully she hadn’t gotten her hopes up. People promised a lot of things, and considering all that had happened in Paul’s life in the last few days, she hadn’t thought that he even remembered that she was looking for a job.

  Excited, she found Paul’s number and dialed it. It rang three times.

  “Morning, Tara,” Paul answered, cheerfully.

  “Hi Paul! I just got your message.” Then she stopped herself, wondering whether she sounded too eager. The least she could do was ask about him and Holly. “How’s everything? Holly and you? Are you guys all right?”

  A chuckle came through the line. “Couldn’t be better. We’re in New York.” There was a muffled sound. Was he kissing Holly? “Together. How’s the gossip mill going in the Hamptons?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I left your parents’ house right after the party. I haven’t seen or spoken to anybody since then.”

  “Wise choice,” Paul said. “Hey, so you’re still looking for a job I take it?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “Excellent. This friend of mine, he runs Hannon Boats, needs an interior designer for his new yacht line. You know, mega yachts for the ultra-rich. Is that something you’d be interested in? I mean, you said design, right? But I wasn’t sure which direction—”

  “I’d love that!” Tara interrupted him. “I’ve got some great design ideas in my portfolio that I could totally adapt for a yacht. Even in their current state, they would fit nicely.”

  “Perfect. Why don’t you send me your portfolio and I’ll put your name in the hat and see if I can get you an interview?”

  “You’re the best, Paul!” How lucky was this? Finally, she had a chance! She’d show her parents that she could do it on her own.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Oh wait, one thing,” she stopped him, having almost forgotten the most important thing.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you please do me one favor and not mention my name? I want to remain anonymous. Is that okay?”

  “Is there a problem, Tara?” He suddenly so
unded concerned.

  She sighed. “I just don’t want to get a job because of my family. You understand that, don’t you?” It was a little white lie. She didn’t want to air her dirty laundry in public and admit to Paul that she suspected her parents of sabotaging her job search. Let him think that she didn’t want her name to be known because she didn’t want an unfair advantage, when in fact the opposite was true.

  “No problem. What name do you want to use instead?”

  “Uh.” She glanced at the iPad, looking at the headlines of the New York Times. “York, uh, Jane York.” Jane was her middle name.

  “Okay then, I’ll call you back with details shortly.”

  “Thanks!”

  A click in the line and Paul was gone.

  Tara set the phone down on the little table, her hands trembling with excitement. This was the chance she’d been waiting for. Now all she had to do was send her portfolio over to Paul and he’d take care of the rest. Luckily, she had all her files in the cloud and could access them from the iPad. She swiped over the file application, just as the phone rang again.

  Did Paul already have news for her?

  She snatched the phone, answering it without even looking. “Yeah?”

  “Tara.”

  Her heart sank into her knees. The voice belonged to her mother. Crap!

  “Where are you?”

  Tara wasn’t about to tell her. Nevertheless, her voice shook a little, when she answered, “It doesn’t matter where I am.” She’d never before rebelled against her parents. This was new to her and slightly intimidating.

  “Don’t you take that tone with me!” her mother snapped.

  Tara sucked in a breath, anger churning up in her. “I’m not.”

  “You are coming home right now, Tara, or your father and I will—”

  “I’m not coming home. I’m sick of you and dad dictating what I do. I’m an adult. I make my own decisions!”