Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection

by Tara Crescent

  I slip out of my jeans and t-shirt and try on the dress. When I look in the mirror, I’m torn between shock and awe. The gown has a black vee-shaped yoke, and the neckline plunges almost to my belly button. The chiffon in the bodice is ruched, and the skirt has seven layers of delicate fabric.

  It’s a princess gown, and I don’t recognize myself.

  “Come out.” Gabby knocks on my dressing room door. “I want to see.”

  I open the door and step out, and she inhales sharply. “God I’m good,” she says. “Miki, if you tell me you don’t like this dress, I might have to smack you. You look amazing.”

  She’s right. “You’re an excellent fairy godmother,” I admit. I can’t tear my eyes away from the mirrors. The deep pink flatters my coloring in a way that the black t-shirts I live in don’t. The dress makes my small boobs appear gently curved, not inadequate. I feel transformed. Gabby might as well have waved a magic wand and said ‘Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo.' It is, in short, the perfect dress. Cinderella has nothing on me.

  I can’t let Gabby pay for it; I’ll have to figure out a way to pay her back. But one thing is clear. Even if I’m going to eat ramen for the next five years, I’m buying this dress.

  5

  Oliver

  My day starts out horribly and doesn’t get much better. Our new virus scanner needs work, and the team that’s built it is overwhelmed and dispirited. We need fresh talent, but that’s not an easy task. Imperium hires only the best, and good software engineers are hard to come by.

  At lunch, I swing by Mary MacDonald’s office. Mary heads up Human Resources. She’s eating a salad at her desk, but when she sees me, she puts down her fork and waves me in. “Don’t stop eating,” I say, sitting down across from her.

  I wonder if Miki’s figured out what we got her for her birthday. Probably not. The furniture store is in Brooklyn. We’d have picked one closer to her, but since both Finn and I need to keep our identities secret, our choices were limited to places that would let us pay in cash without asking any questions.

  With effort, I pull my mind back to work. “We need to get some talent in here for Block,” I tell Mary. “Dmitri’s overwhelmed.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “You told me to freeze all hiring until the IPO,” she replies. “You were afraid of a security breach.” She picks a slice of cucumber out of her salad with a disgusted look and sets it on the plastic lid. “You have no idea how much grief I’ve had to take for that decision.”

  “Trust me, I’ve heard.” I grab the slice of cucumber and take a bite. “Once the executives are done bitching to you, they complain to Finn. When that doesn’t get them anywhere, they bug Janine, get on my calendar and whine to me.”

  She holds out another piece of cucumber, and I nab it. “Who’s the whiniest?” she asks wickedly. “I’m willing to bet it’s Larry.”

  I roll my eyes. Until the company goes public, we can’t make major executive changes, so we’re stuck with Lawrence Kent, our Chief Financial Officer. Hiring him was not my best decision, and I’ve regretted it since the day I made it two years ago. “What kind of bet is that? Of course, it’s Larry.”

  Mary grins in satisfaction. “You’re the boss,” she says candidly. “If you want to hire someone for the Block project, I’m not going to stop you.”

  Hmm. “Let’s do it,” I reply. “The team looks like they’re going to miss their deadline badly, and that’s not good.”

  “Okay,” she says agreeably. “Talking about teams that are going to miss their deadlines, Shield looks dicey too. I’m sure Finn’s on top of it, but Sachin’s sent me three increasingly desperate emails this week asking for additional staff.”

  “Why?” I frown at Mary. “Sachin’s got six people. He doesn’t need more than that.”

  She shakes her head. “He’s down to four,” she says. “Larry poached one of his developers to work on some kind of finance tool, and Alessandra, their security expert, was in a bad car crash two days ago.”

  Larry has no business taking developers from Shield; Finn’s going to go ballistic when he finds out. I’m more concerned about Alessandra. “I’m assuming you sent flowers?”

  “And a fruit basket,” she replies. “Imperium was very generous. Poor girl. She just came back from maternity leave too. I have no idea how they’re coping with the baby. Alessandra’s got three broken ribs, her lungs were punctured, and her leg’s smashed in three places.”

  I wince. “Let’s make sure her husband gets all the help he needs. I don’t want to lose Alessandra.”

  “Kliedara sniffing around our team again?”

  I nod. “So far, they haven't succeeded, but let’s not give them any openings. Fine, let’s get Sachin a security person.”

  “Got it.” She sets her fork down and scribbles something on her legal pad. “Two hires.” She looks up with a grin. “By the way, Bob wanted me to thank you for throwing a party on Valentine’s Day. He said it made his life a lot easier.”

  I chuckle. That sounds exactly like something Mary’s husband would say. “We’re golfing in a couple of weeks,” I reply. “Tell him to buy me a drink.”

  I get back to the office I share with Finn, and Janine, our assistant, who sits in a cubicle just outside, looks up. “Mary just called me,” she chuckles. “You left your phone in her office. You want me to go get it?”

  “No, I’ll go.” I head back to Mary’s office and she hands me my phone with a grin. She’s used to me leaving my phone around everywhere; everyone at Imperium is.

  It buzzes as I walk back. It’s Miki. Rather, it’s her forum moniker. Mouse. She’s replying to my morning message. Thank you. What’s in the furniture store? Merlin wouldn’t tell me.

  I grin. I’m not going to tell you either. You’ll have to go find out.

  It’s in Brooklyn, she types. I don’t know where you live, Lancelot, since you duck the question every single time I ask, but for the record, Brooklyn is not close by.

  I live less than five miles from her, a fact that I’m going to keep a secret for as long as I humanly can. You can get to Brooklyn on the subway, can’t you? Go today. Unless you have birthday plans?

  No, she replies. I’m planning to spend the evening in my PJs, drinking wine and eating ice cream. Maybe I’ll even crank-call my ex-husband.

  Don’t be a cliché, Mouse.

  I can close my eyes and picture Miki sitting in the airplane seat between Finn and me. When I offered her my business card, I hadn’t been thinking that it was a way to get closer to the woman who had succeeded in hacking one of our prototype systems. I’d been responding to the obvious chemistry between us.

  Thank heavens she said no. That would have made a complicated situation even more so.

  I sigh heavily as I reach my office, and Janine looks up. “Paul’s news?” she asks sympathetically. “He gave me a heads-up.”

  Chatting with Miki, I’d almost forgotten about Claudia’s latest kick in the teeth. “I’ll deal,” I tell my assistant.

  “I’m sure you will,” she replies. She frowns. “No offense, Oliver. If Claudia were here, I’d kick her ass.” She looks at her computer. “I’ve got Susan Dee from the PR team scheduled to meet you on Monday morning. Unless you need to see her earlier?”

  I shake my head. “Claudia knows that the moment those photos are leaked, she has no leverage over me. We have time.”

  “Claudia is a bitch,” she mutters under her breath.

  Yup. She sure is.

  This whole situation with Miki is problematic. When we first came up with the idea to keep an eye on her through the DefCon forums, I hadn’t expected to become friends with her. Now, I talk to her at least once a day, and if I don’t hear from her, my day feels like it’s missing something.

  Our entire relationship is based on a lie.

  Don’t drink too much wine, Mouse, I type. And definitely don’t call your ex.

  I can’t explain why that idea bothers me as much as it does.

  6

>   Miki

  Buy the ticket, take the ride.

  Hunter S. Thompson

  There’s a small part of me that wonders if it’s all an elaborate prank. What if User0989 is pulling some kind of scam, and I’m not on the guest list? When I arrive at the Waldorf Astoria, I’m half-prepared to be turned away.

  I’m not. There are a handful of staff members dressed in neon pink milling about in the reception area, carrying iPads. I navigate to a friendly-looking young man in glasses, feeling sorry for the ridiculous costume he has to wear, and tell him I should be on the list. “M. Mouse?”

  He’s too well-paid to crack a smile. He taps on his tablet and confirms my attendance, and slips a pink wire bracelet over my wrist. “You’ll need to check in your coat and all your belongings,” he explains. “There’s a strict ‘No Electronic Devices’ rule. The coat check is on your right.”

  “Thank you.” No electronic devices. That’s to be expected, I guess, for a data security firm such as Imperium.

  I approach the coat check, removing my gloves and stuffing them in the pocket of the black winter coat I borrowed from Gabby. The woman at the counter takes it from me along with my handbag, and she hands me a metal token and shows me that it slips onto my bracelet like a little charm. “Clever idea,” I murmur, and she smiles, nods and directs me to the next step, which is to walk through a metal detector.

  This place is locked down tighter than JFK.

  I clear security and enter the ballroom. The decorators have gone overboard with the theme. The room looks like a cotton candy explosion. Pink heart-shaped balloons are everywhere. A thousand glittering silver stars cover the ceiling. The wait staff wear Pepto-Bismol-pink jumpsuits, same as the crew that was in charge of checking people in. The decor is, quite honestly, ridiculous, but it’s nowhere as over-the-top as the outfits some of the guests are wearing. A woman near me appears to be wearing a pink feather boa and nothing else. Another guest is wearing skin-tight pastel-pink spandex. She’s got the body for it, and I have to give her props. She’s a braver woman than I am. I would have never thought of wearing Star-Trek-style gym clothes to this party.

  I’m going to need a drink to survive this evening.

  I make my way to a corner of the bar. The bartender comes up almost instantly and gives me a friendly smile. “What can I get you?”

  I open my mouth to ask for a glass of red wine, and then calculate that the likelihood of spilling my drink on myself is pretty high. “A vodka and soda, please.”

  He brings me my drink. I stay in my corner and discreetly survey the room, wondering if I can catch someone staring at me. User0989 is here somewhere, but I’m not sure how or when he’s going to make contact.

  Next to me, two middle-aged men are talking to each other. “Some party, huh?” one of them says. “These guys are pulling out all the stops ahead of their IPO.”

  I eavesdrop shamelessly. I went dress shopping with Gabby instead of researching Imperium, and I feel desperately under-prepared for this evening.

  “Did you hear that the shares aren’t going to have voting rights?” The guy sounds quite put out. “Prescott and Sanders own the entire firm, and they’re not giving up control.”

  His friend shrugs. “It hasn’t stopped the stock offering from being oversubscribed,” he complains. “My broker couldn’t get me in on the ground floor. The IPO is going to be a wild success. There’s nothing that can derail it at this point.”

  “They could get hacked,” the other guy replies. “Imperium is a hot commodity because they’ve never been beaten. If someone manages to get inside their network—”

  A chill trickles up my spine. That’s why User0989 wants me to hack into their network. He wants to derail the IPO.

  Facebook raised sixteen billion dollars when they went public. Imperium might not be in the same league, but there’s no denying that there’s a ton of money at stake.

  I’m desperate, but I’m not reckless. This is too rich for my blood. I need to get out of here.

  I’m about to move away when a man comes up to the bar. “I’ll have a rum and coke, Tom,” he says. His voice sounds familiar, and I look up. He turns toward me at the same time, and I experience a jolt of recognition.

  It’s Finn. Finn from the plane.

  For a brief second, there’s an expression of shock on his face, so fleeting that I wonder if I’ve imagined it. I must have; his face lights up with pleasure. “Miki,” he says, “What a surprise it is to see you.”

  Tell me about it.

  “Finn from the plane.” I smile widely, thrilled beyond belief to see a familiar face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I know a couple of people here. This,” he gestures to the room, “is the hottest party in Manhattan this month.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought you cared about stuff like that.”

  “I could say the same about you,” he replies with a wink. He leans in closer to whisper conspiratorially, “The drinks are free.”

  I laugh out loud. He’s being evasive, but I don’t care.

  This close to him, I can smell his cologne. It’s a heady scent, with a hint of citrus and lavender and something earthier. Maybe sandalwood. Resist the urge to sniff him, Miki. You’re not a puppy. “You flew all the way from Texas for this party?”

  “I live in Manhattan,” he replies, his eyes twinkling. “A fifteen-minute cab ride away. You?”

  “Ten minutes,” I reply. “I live in Hell’s Kitchen.”

  We launch into conversation. As we talk, I survey him discreetly. Finn looks better than I remember. He’s wearing another suit, a dark charcoal one this time. His only concession to the ‘Pretty in Pink’ theme is his pink plaid tie.

  I’ve thought of the Thanksgiving flight from Houston to New York often. Of being seated between two impossibly good-looking men, of laughing and flirting with them, pretending for the space of a few hours that my carefully constructed life wasn’t shattering around me.

  I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d taken the business card Oliver offered me. Would I have slept with him? Would it have been good?

  Finn’s eyes run over my body, taking in the plunging neckline of my gown, lingering at the swell of my breasts. “You look lovely,” he says. “That’s a very pretty dress.”

  I swallow as I meet his gaze and see the desire in his expression. “Thank you,” I murmur. Daringly, I brush his arm with my fingers and look up at him through my eyelashes. Flirting for Dummies, Miki-style. My nerves loosen my tongue. “My friend Gabby took me shopping. Today’s my birthday, and she wouldn’t let me pay for it.”

  “It’s your birthday?” He leans in, his body inches from mine, and his breath tickles my ear. “Happy birthday, Miki.”

  Goosebumps break out on my skin. His thigh is touching mine. He’s close to me. I can feel the heat of his body, and if I take one more step toward him—

  My girlfriends’ intervention has worked; I’m not thinking about Aaron right now. I’m thinking about how gorgeous Finn looks. His ice-blue eyes are running all over me, and my long-dormant libido comes alive with a vengeance.

  Before I have time to react to his nearness, Oliver appears out of nowhere. I jump like a scalded cat, and Finn bites back his grin. “You startled me,” I accuse the blond man.

  “Sorry about that,” he replies. Like Finn, Oliver’s wearing a dark suit. “I thought I saw a familiar face.” His lips turn up in a half-smile. “Did I hear it’s your birthday?”

  He leans in to kiss me, his lips brushing over my cheek. My skin tingles where he touches me, and my stomach clenches with desire. Oh hell. Both of them? Evidently, my body has decided that it’s done with mourning my failed marriage. My nipples bead under my dress, and since I’m not wearing a bra, my arousal is painfully visible under the chiffon fabric.

  Calm the fuck down, Miki. “It’s the big three-oh,” I reply, trying to sound light and casual.

  “It is?” Oliver’s eyes sweep over me. “The drinks
are free at this party, otherwise I’d insist you let me buy you a drink to celebrate.”

  A tall, thin woman with long dark hair, slicked back into a tight ponytail approaches us, her gaze locked on Oliver. Finn waves her away. “How’ve you been, Miki?” he asks me. “You were in the middle of a divorce, if I remember correctly.”

  “All done.” My lips twist into a grimace. “As my mother likes to remind me, I’m now thirty and single, and the odds of meeting a single guy in Manhattan aren’t in my favor.”

  Oliver’s voice lowers to a purr. “Your mother’s wrong,” he replies. “You’re talking to two single guys right now.”

  The woman approaches us again, and this time, it’s Oliver who waves her away. “Sorry about that,” he says to me. “This is a work event, and Janine wants me to mingle.”

  He doesn’t show any sign of wanting to leave. His fingers trace small circles on my naked forearm, and my skin tingles where he touches me. Finn’s eyes follow the movement, but he too stands exactly where he is, right next to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his body.

  “You should probably do what she wants.” Why do I sound like I’ve just run a marathon?

  “Work will keep,” Oliver replies dismissively. “What’s been going on with you? Let me see if I can remember the list you made on the plane.” His eyes dance with amusement. “Did you buy a cat?” He takes a step closer to me and bends his head to my ear. “Is your pussy happy, Miki?”

  I gasp at his bold words. “You’re rude,” I say, shocked, as a flush creeps up my face. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “I’m not rude,” he says calmly, unfazed at my reaction. “Just direct. What’s the matter, Miki? I thought sex was okay in your rule book. Just not love.”

  “Maybe I’m picky about who I have sex with,” I reply loftily.