by Josie Brown
One of the twins (was it Amelia, or Addison? She could never tell them apart) grabbed Oliver’s sweater, which had been tossed to one side, and threw it outside the sand lot. Jade laughed off Ally’s apologies and ran after it. When she reached down for it, she noticed something odd: the collar held a tiny metal clasp, which was blinking green.
Why, that son of a bitch.
Jade scanned the streets surrounding the park. Yes, there he was, on the Steiner side.
If Brady wants to play I Spy, he should ditch the red Ferrari, she thought.
She almost smiled and waved but thought better of it. She’d wait for the right time, and the right place, to make him pay for his distrust.
She walked back toward the sand lot where Oliver was holding court with his newfound friends. If only he and Dante were doing a better job at bonding. Because she felt sorry that the little Connaught boy was being so shy, Jade handed another cup to Dante, but he just let it drop to the sand.
Then he stared at it as it lay there in front of him.
“He’s just tired,” Lorna smiled over at Jade. “We had a late night.”
Jade nodded, She couldn’t help but think, How is this kid going to make it through the competition? Even though he’s Bettina’s nephew, there just ain’t no way…
***
Brady was sitting in the living room, waiting for Jade when she got home. The minute Oliver went down for his nap, Brady grilled her on every little detail. Which kids played with Oliver? If a kid didn’t play with him, why not? What did the moms talk about? Had she said anything to upset anyone? Had Bettina singled her out for anything?
“Bettina invited me to go with her to find prizes for the winners of the Halloween parade. Isn’t that great?”
“Wow, way to go.” He gave her a thumbs up.
Her smile turned to stone. “Doesn’t that deserve a kiss?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah… I guess.”
“You act as if I’ve got cooties or something! You know what, forget about it. Besides, I told her I didn’t have time for that kind of stuff, since I’m only getting paid for the three mornings—”
He shrugged. “No, you didn’t.”
“Oh yeah? How do you know what I did or didn’t do?”
“Because…I mean, I know you wouldn’t have been that rude.”
“You’re right. I’m not rude. At least not as rude as you, who bugs his own son!” She glared at him. “Admit it, Brady. You already know everything that goes on at the meet-ups.”
“What do you mean?” He’d tried to sound so innocent, but Jade had picked up on a habit of his—he blinked when he lied—and he was blinking now.
“I found the bug you planted on Ollie. In here.” She tossed the jacket at him. “And I saw you in your car, watching us. What are you afraid of? That I might do a strip tease in the middle of the park?”
“No! Nothing like that. It’s just that—well, through this initiation period, we have to be super good.”
“I’m good all the time,” she said with a naughty purr.
“That’s not what I meant. The point I’m trying to make is—”
She had shut him up with a kiss.
Someday he’d kiss her first. She was sure of it.
Maybe on that same day he’d take the bug off Ollie’s jacket.
Thursday, 20 September
9:15 a.m.
“Scott did what? He dumped you?”
Jillian put a finger to her lips. “Mother, hush! The girls don’t know yet.”
“He was gone so often, I’m sure they barely know him anyway.”
Jillian frowned. “That’s a cruel thing to say.”
“Oh, don’t play holier-than-thou with me. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing a million times yourself.”
For once, her mother was right. If only she could be right and nice at the same time.
“Ha! So that hoity-toity stick-in-the-mud you married turned out just like your father.” Beverly’s satisfied smirk grated on Jillian. “I guess it’s right what they always say: ‘Girls marry their daddies.’”
“Scott is nothing like Dad was.” For one thing, Scott was a teetotaler, ergo the odds of him dying of cirrhosis of the liver were slim to none.
The last thing Jillian wanted was to get into an argument with her mother when she should be psyching herself up about the job interview with a restaurant in the Financial District. It was far enough away from the Marina and Pacific Heights that she shouldn’t run into any PHM&T members.
It was time to change the subject. “So, you don’t mind watching the girls while I take your car to go on this interview? The ad said to show up by ten o’clock. I’m guessing I’ll be home by eleven at the latest.”
“Not this time.” The tone in her mother’s voice said it all: Don’t expect me to do this anymore.
The SUV would be back from the garage by tomorrow morning. She’d found a credit card Scott must have forgotten about, that they’d taken out in her name alone, and put its humongous repair bill on it—along with that week’s grocery run. But she’d be reaching her limit soon if a more permanent settlement didn’t force him into paying their expenses.
“They’ll be good girls,” Jillian promised. “They keep themselves busy—”
“Yeah, well too bad they can’t change their own diapers and make my martinis.”
Jillian countered with a weak smile. “That will happen, soon enough, but not before lunch. They’re smart girls. They’re already growing up too quickly.”
“Ha! You don’t have to tell me! You were out of the house the minute you turned eighteen, like it was on fire or something.”
That’s because I had to get away from you, Jillian thought. I was too afraid of turning into you…
As if reading her mind, Beverly shrugged. “That’s okay. You’ll see. These two will do the same to you and leave you as soon as they can. Just like that asshole, Scott.”
Without saying another word, Jillian ran out of the house.
***
By the time she got to Claxton restaurant, she’d wiped away most of the mascara that had pooled around her red-rimmed eyes. There were fifteen applicants waiting to be interviewed. When she finally got her turn with the manager, it was already a little after noon.
Her mother would be livid.
Then again, maybe the girls had caught on to how she liked her martinis.
With plush chairs, intimate alcoves, low lighting, and a straight-on view of the Bay Bridge, the place was elegant and appealing. The menu was eclectic, experimental, and experiential. It had to be in order to command thirty-dollars an entrée and more.
The restaurant was filling up, so the manager was conducting the interviews in an empty party alcove. He glanced from her to her application and back again. “It says here that you worked at The Dining Room in The Ritz Carlton. That closed, like, a bazillion years ago.”
“In ’05. I was there for six years prior to that—”
“Yeah, that was the point I was making. I’m wondering if you can still carry a tray.”
What, is he kidding? I carry a twenty-two-pound toddler on each arm.
She laughed so hard that despite the fact she hadn’t let him in on the joke, he actually cracked a smile, too.
Just then a waitress passed by carrying a tray laden with martinis. Jillian jumped up and patted her on the shoulder. Pointing at her tray, she asked sweetly, “May I?”
The woman looked at the manager, who hesitated before nodding. Jillian hoisted it shoulder height and did a turn around the room before setting it down in front of him with a grin.
All drinks accounted for, and not a drop was spilled.
“Okay, yeah. You made your point. We can start you at lunches, Sunday through Thursday. Minimum wage and tips, and you’ll tip out the bus staff and bartenders. On a good day, you can expect to walk with one-ten.”
Jillian pumped the air with her fist. Until she figured out that it meant missing th
e Monday and Wednesday PHM&T meet-ups.
“Oh…wait! That schedule won’t work for me. I have a standing engagement on Mondays and Wednesdays. But I can do nights.”
That brought a smirk to the manager’s face. “You can work up to nights if you prove yourself on the lunch shift. The only other shift I can offer is strictly weekends. That’s two days versus five.”
One-hundred-and-ten dollars times two days was only two-hundred-and-twenty dollars a week, eight hundred and eighty dollars a month. That would barely make a dent in her overhead. Jillian shrugged. “Can you throw in a Tuesday shift every now and then?”
“Maybe.”
“How long will it take for me to get on nights?”
“Maybe a month.”
She nodded, and they shook hands.
She could hold on until Tom Lutz could squeeze more than a monthly mortgage payment out of Scott. The permanent settlement was going in front of the judge sometime in the first week of November.
She’d be saying lots of prayers until then.
11:12 a.m.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
Brady hadn’t expected to find Madame Ovary standing on his doorstep. He looked up and down the block before grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside the house.
“You shouldn’t have just shown up here! What if Jade had been home?”
“Oh, quit panicking. Jade’s with Bettina, hitting up merchants for the Halloween prizes. We both know that. Hell, it was my idea that she take Jade along. They’ll be gone for two hours, at a minimum. Bettina is like a Canadian Mountie. She doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants, and in this case, all her bullshit tchotchkes. I, on the other hand, want you.” She slammed him against the wall before grinding into him.
It wasn’t easy talking with her tongue crammed down his throat. “Yes! Well, I think we should cool things for the time being. You know, until this competition thing is over.”
That stopped her cold. With suspicion in her eyes, she pulled away. “What, are you crazy? No sex…for the next six months?”
“I just thought that if, for any reason, you felt it might put you in a compromising position—”
She put his hands on her breasts. “This is a compromising position. And this—” She cupped his cock with her hands. “And this.” In no time at all, she’d yanked open his jeans and dropped to her knees.
He struggled to find his voice while she went down on him. When he did, his words came out in a gasp. “I—I really don’t think this is a great idea… Ouch! What the hell—”
She glared up at him. “Sorry about that. I grind my teeth when I’m upset. And I get upset when I think someone is trying to get rid of me.”
“Trying to…what? Get rid of you? No! Not at all!” He turned quickly to zip up his pants.
“Good, because I’d hate to think you only like me because I get to vote in the competition.”
She started up to the bedroom, without even a glance back.
There was nothing he could do but follow.
Afterward, he made sure she picked up all her clothes. Especially her panties. The last thing he needed was for Jade to be upset at him and leave him high and dry.
1:35 p.m.
Jade came home floating on a cloud. “Bettina loved everything I chose!” she informed Brady proudly. “As a thank you, she wants us to join her and her husband, Art, for dinner. What do you think of that?”
Brady nodded grudgingly. Jade scored big time with the Chief Executive Mommy. He had to give her that. Maybe they had nothing to worry about after all.
“Look! Aren’t these cute?” She pointed to the array of toys she’d already spread out onto the living room floor, everything from learning toys to dolls and super hero action figures for the Foursies and Fivesies. “And I found this one at the cute little children’s store on Webster, called Bubble!” She held up a black onesie scrawled with the slogan I ♥ MARINA CHICKS. “Wouldn’t Ollie look great in it? I hope he wins it. Of course, I offered to wrap all the gifts, too! Gotta keep those Bettina Badges coming, right? Want to help?”
“Don’t call him Ollie. Never. Ever. Okay? And I don’t have time to help. I was invited to speak at the D: All Things Digital conference downtown.”
He was lying. Yes, he was going to the conference, but no, he wasn’t speaking, just taking in a panel or two. Between her and Madame Ovary, and all the gossip and mama drama he heard through the bug on Oliver’s jacket, he needed to get away from women, at least for one night.
“Oh…kay.” Her nod was accompanied by a frown. “Well, maybe we can get a babysitter, and I can go with you.”
“Nah. Trust me. All that tech stuff is boring. Just stay home and relax. You’ve earned it.”
Before she made a bigger issue of it, he bounded up the stairs for a shower.
He could smell Madame Ovary on himself. The scent was so strong he was surprised Jade hadn’t noticed.
Thank goodness for that.
2:22 p.m.
“Ellis went home early! He has food poisoning!” Ally’s office assistant, Jen, hissed from the doorway. “He thinks he ate some bad ahi at lunch. I swear, those Midwest guys can’t hold their sushi.”
“Well, he can’t blame that on me, too.” Ally shook her head. The news was enough to shift her gaze from her computer screen, where she had been perusing Foot Fetish’s latest P&L statement. Last month’s sales had somehow dropped off a cliff, and she couldn’t figure out why.
Ellis claimed that her latest designs “hadn’t quite caught the zeitgeist,” as he had so pompously put it. He was wrong. The company’s Twitter followers and Facebook fans had been ecstatic over the new collection. In fact, they’d been claiming that they couldn’t get enough of these new shoes—
“—So, BI corporate offices called and said you have to take his place on the All Things Digital conference panel. The one about retailing successfully through apps.”
“What? I can’t do that! I have to get back to Zoe!”
“Ally, this is All Things Digital! Look, if you’re not going, then you need to call the chairman of the board.”
But of course Ally would go.
It was part of her pact with the devil.
Ally shrugged. “Okay, It’s at four o’clock, at Moscone, right? Then I guess I better call my nanny and tell her she’s got massive overtime coming her way.” Ally looked down at her old jeans and the faded tank top she wore under a jacket that had seen better days. In other words, it was mom wear.
Upon hearing her long, anguished sigh, Jen pointed at the Saks Fifth Avenue across the street. “Designer sale. Just sayin’.”
“Really? Thank God for small miracles! Okay, call the chairman and tell him I’ve got it covered.” She was out the door in a flash.
4:01 p.m.
Ally gave great anecdote.
Like the one about the time the cargo container from China was filled with sex slaves as opposed to open-toed sandals.
And how long it took to discover that Foot Fetish’s very first app was linked to an S&M site instead of their online store.
And how, as a single mom, she’d given birth to her daughter on the same day she closed the acquisition by BI.
And in the Bottega Veneta cocktail dress she’d found at the sale, all of these incidents flowed trippingly off her tongue because she knew she was the sexiest woman in the room.
In all honesty, she was the only woman in a room filled with guys who actually looked up every now and then from their computers in order to laugh out loud with her.
It was during the Q&A that she saw him: Brady Pierce.
At first, she hadn’t recognized him. Maybe that was because the last time she’d seen him, he’d had a baby on his shoulders.
Without the toddler, he was even better looking than she’d remembered.
I can see what Jade sees in him, she thought.
Obviously he’d already placed her, because his eyes never left her face.
That know
-it-all grin never left his face, either.
Then, the possible reason for his smile hit Ally like a ton of bricks: Oh, hell. He now knows I’m still involved with the company. He can use that to get me ousted from the club.
As if reading her mind, he raised his hand. The moderator pointed to him, warning the crowd that it would be the last question of the session. “Ms. Thornton, has it been difficult running a multi-billion dollar company and being a full-time parent?”
She wondered if her face were as red as her new dress. At least she had the smarts to pause before answering, “I’m working on an app for that.”
That got the biggest laugh of all.
Ally was the only one in the room who wasn’t laughing.
***
“I know what you’re thinking,” Brady said when he finally caught up to her.
It was easy for him to do, considering his legs were very long, and her heels were too tall.
She stopped short. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You’re wondering if I’m going to out you to the club. Am I right?”
“Of course. Six families. Four slots. Do the math.”
God, you’re so beautiful, Brady thought. Even when you’re vulnerable. Especially now, when you’re back is against the wall, and you’re trying so hard to be strong…
“How about a drink? We can walk over to the St. Regis. It’s got a great bar.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not.” He looked her in the eye. “We all have our dirty little secrets.”
“Oh yeah? What’s yours?”
He shrugged. “You’ll have to get me drunk to find out.”
That brought a smile to her face. “Sure. If you’re spilling your guts, then I’m buying.”
