Dirty Deeds

by Lauren Landish

  But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get her out of my head. Even worse, I’m actually looking forward to the trip. I need this. I’m gonna have her eating out of my hand in no time. Oh, the things I’m going to do to her. I bite my lower lip at the thought.

  My cock throbs again, but I ignore it. I tuck the picture of Mindy underneath my briefcase and push the thoughts of her out of my mind.

  I open my email on my laptop, trying to focus on the things I need to take care of. It's afternoon and I'm stuck in my office in the middle of town, trying to get my affairs in order before my trip. We’re leaving in two days, and whether I need it or not, part of me wonders if I’m walking into a fucking trap. Mindy’s mom must be a piece of work for her to have to lie.

  There’s a knock on my door, pulling my attention away. Martha, my part-time secretary, sticks her head in. “Mr. Steele? Your ride is ready.”

  “Thanks, Martha,” I say. “You sure you can hold down the fort?”

  Martha looks around our small, two-room office and chuckles. “I’m pretty sure,” she says. “But sir, hiring a car?”

  “He’s family, and besides, it’s a tax write-off,” I joke. Martha is great for me. She’s a natural penny pincher, and it helps balance my splurging tendencies. I know she’s saved me a lot of money as we get Steele Security Solutions off the ground. “When we get back, I’ll introduce you to him. Your daughter might like him.”

  Martha, whose daughter is nineteen and just starting college, laughs. “If he’s anything like you, Mr. Steele, I’ll have my shotgun ready.”

  I laugh. “You’ve got me all wrong. Okay, I’ll be back.”

  Outside, the black Lincoln SUV with a driver waits, and I climb in. The driver and I say nothing as we head over to the university. I spend the whole time working on my tablet, relishing the peace and quiet. When we pull up outside one of the dorms, my brother Anthony sticks his head out of a third-floor window, a wiseass grin on his face.

  “Don’t you just look important as fuck?” he yells loud enough for the whole campus to hear.

  I growl, already fed up with his antics. I know he's younger, twenty-one years old and still in college, but he goes out of his way to be a smartass and piss me off. When our parents divorced, he badly wanted to go live with my father, but my father wanted me to go with him instead. So Anthony went with Mom, and it was timing I guess that brought me home just as he started looking for his own freedom. He’s going to college in town but staying in the dorm, and he needed to not have Mom to worry about.

  “Get your ass down here, would you?” I yell back, knowing I look like an asshole standing outside a college dorm building in a suit and tie and yelling up at one of the students, but I can’t help it. They’ve got locks on the doors.

  “Two minutes!” Anthony says, and for once, he’s actually on time, though I sort of wish he’d put on something besides a sleeveless T-shirt and jeans. He approaches the SUV, laughing at the magnetic removable logo on the side.

  “Steele Security Solutions? Sounds like something out of a damn comic book. You got a super suit in the back?”

  “Just get in,” I grumble, making Tony laugh as he gets under my skin. I swear, every little brother in the world is born with the sole mission of pissing off their elder sibling.

  “What, you missing the secretary and the morning blowjob?” he needles me, as always. “You’re usually more patient.”

  “I’ve got shit to do, that’s all. I’m going to be out of town for a week,” I reply as the driver pulls away. “I’ve arranged for Martha to be looking in on Mom.”

  “Martha? She’s nearly as old as Mom,” Anthony bitches. “Can’t you at least get some naughty little home helper instead? I’ve got vacation next week, asshole.”

  I check the urge to give him the beating my parents never did. He’s a cocky little shit. “I’d have just asked you, but I know you’re going to be spending your whole vacation chasing tail.”

  “Damn, Oli, that’s harsh even for you,” Anthony says. “So what’s the deal? I can help if you need it. I mean, it’s Mom.”

  I think for a second, calming down. “Okay then. Listen, I need you to take care of some things while I’m gone.”

  “Where are you going to—” Anthony starts, but I cut him off. My brother is all questions when he wants to be.

  “That doesn't matter,” I say flatly. “I need you to man up and take care of some stuff this week. Martha can take care of the office, but I need you on backup. And I need you to help out with Mom.”

  “When are you leaving?” Anthony asks, growing more serious. He’s got some potential at least.

  “In a few days,” I say, not offering more.

  Anthony shakes his head. “I can’t. Dad wants me to check on a property for him down in Georgia. I’m flying out Tuesday.”

  “Fuck him,” I say, sharper than I intend. “And fuck his grooming.”

  Anthony recoils slightly and goes silent for a moment. “Are you going to tell me what happened between you two? It’s been months now, and neither of you will say what went down.”

  I clench my teeth, looking out the window. I still get hot under the collar thinking about the disagreements we had. “Another time.” I make sure I say it with enough conviction so he won’t press the issue.

  Anthony’s silent for a few moments before he replies, his voice quiet and intense. “You’re an asshole, Oliver. And Dad’s gonna be pissed when he can’t count on me.”

  “That’s too bad. He doesn’t need you. Mom does.”

  “He wants me to take your place, you know. At the company,” Anthony says. “Says he needs a right hand he can trust.”

  Anger surges through my chest. He gave me the same line of shit back when I was twenty-one and he was recruiting me. But Anthony doesn’t understand. “That will be the biggest mistake you ever make.”

  “Seems like you’re the one making a big mistake,” Anthony replies hotly. “Look at you, giving up your stake in our father’s company and moving here. And for what? Tell me one thing that’s here for you.”

  “Mom,” I say. Truth be told, the list ends there, but it’s enough.

  Anthony goes silent, guilt showing on his face. I know why. He wanted desperately to go with Dad like I did, to live the good life. But that would’ve left our mother all alone.

  “You’re right,” he says quietly. “There’s Mom.”

  I nod. “And I need you to spend time with her while I’m gone. In fact, I want you to stay at her house rather than the dorm. Martha shouldn’t be the one taking care of her.”

  Anthony looks pained at that comment. “Damn, man. Travis said he was going to hook me up with this hot chick this weekend—”

  The stony look on my face shuts him up. “I'm going to need you to stop making excuses. Take some fucking responsibility for once.”

  Before Anthony can start, I cut him off. “I was supposed to help her with fixing the lights in the basement. She twisted her ankle doing laundry and needs a few things done around the house.”

  Anthony swallows. “I didn’t know.”

  “You don’t call. You never check on her.” I could go off on him about how he lives in the same town and neglects his mother. I checked in with Mom more when I was in college, and I was several states away. He lives in the same town.

  “I’ve just been busy with classes. School work. This shit’s harder for me than it was for you.”

  I turn away, looking out the window and ending the conversation. I don’t need to hear his excuses. I've always known that actions speak louder than words, and Anthony's actions have amounted to diddly squat when it comes to his relationship with our mother. Finally, as we pull up in front of Mom’s house, I turn back to him, my voice quiet.

  “There’s more to life than just having a corner office, fucking chicks, and partying. Time to be a man, Anthony.”

  “Oh, my word, my two boys,” my mom, Jamie Steele, says as we step into the living room of her house. Sh
e tries to get up from her seat, an old raggedy recliner, but I quickly motion her back down, noticing her bandaged ankle.

  “Sit down, Mom,” I tell her, closing the door. “No pressure on the ankle, remember?”

  I don't give her a chance to respond. I quickly make my way across the room, bend down, and pull her into my arms. It's been a few days since I last saw her, but she looks disheveled, her hair in disarray. She has fine frown lines going down the front on her lips brought on by cigarette smoke. Another thing Gavin and I agree on—I hate cigarettes, but I can’t stop her. It makes her look a lot older than she really is.

  Her eyes light up when I step away, and she looks at Anthony. “And Anthony too? What have I done to deserve this?”

  “Oh, stop it,” Anthony says sheepishly, coming forward to give her a hug.

  “I can't help it,” she says as she pulls away. “You never come to see me. The last time I had you both under this roof is when Oliver came home from . . .”

  Her voice trails off and a distant look comes over her eyes. I know what she's thinking about. How I left her to be my father's pet child. I thought she'd be okay with Anthony, but he resented the fact that I was gone and took it out on her like any kid would, with lots of stress and backtalk. It was only the fact that he was a kid when he did it that saved him from an ass beating.

  She didn't tell me how bad it was until I came back home. I was furious when I found out what was really going on. At the same time, I felt guilty. I felt like maybe I shouldn't have left. And to know that she didn't take one red cent from my father makes it worse. She lives off the meager income she gets from her job as an office manager for a trucking company. I try to give her money to help, but she's too prideful to take any. I barely convinced her to take time off work with her ankle.

  “You know I'm sorry,” Anthony says, and I think Mom’s words hit him harder than mine did. “I'm going to try to do better. Oliver told me that you hurt your ankle.”

  “Yeah, I was trying to get the fabric softener refill in the basement when I fell,” Mom says. “My own fault. You know, Anthony, if you’d be more dependable . . .”

  I think Anthony’s had enough. I went in on him the way over here, so I interrupt Mom before she can really get going. “Mom, Anthony’s going to be saying with you for the week. I asked him to help out at my office, and then he said he wanted to spend some quality time with you.”

  Anthony gives me a grateful look as Mom turns to him, her face brightening in disbelief. “Tony? Is that true?”

  He nods his head. “Yes. I’ll help out with any work you need around the house. Help out with groceries, take care of the basement, all that.”

  “You’ll see, Mom,” I say. “Tony’s going to be a great help while I’m gone.”

  My mom turns to me. “Gone? Gone where?”

  I grit my teeth. I can lie to Anthony, but I can't lie to Mom. “Just going away for a week to a wedding.”

  My mom’s eyebrows raise. “A wedding? Whose wedding?”

  “A friend’s. I'm going as someone's date.” It's not a total lie but one I can get away with. I can hear Anthony grind his teeth, and I know I’ve got some explaining to do with him later. Not now.

  “It must be someone important if you have to leave town for a week,” Mom fishes a bit too eagerly. “It sure would be nice to have some grandbabies.”

  I almost blanch. She snuck that one in there with a quickness I wasn’t prepared for. Babies are the furthest thing from my mind right now.

  “It’s totally not like that,” I say, my tone firm, letting her know the discussion is closed. “I’m doing it as a favor.”

  My mom looks around suddenly, very excited. “Well, since I have you both here, why don’t I make your favorite, cherry pie? Hmm? If nothing else, we can spend some family time together before you leave with some good home-style cooking.”

  My mom grins, and I’m so glad I forced Anthony to come. She’s the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time. “Sure, Mom, as long as you stay off your ankle.”

  “Well, you know back in my day, there was a song about cherry pie. Mine’s sweet enough to make a grown man cry,” Mom boasts with a laugh.

  Anthony groans, slapping his forehead. “Really, Mom? That’s not what that song’s about. Please stop . . .”

  I open my mouth to comment, but right then, Mindy pops in my mind. Her long legs, her sweet lips. And I have to think that maybe that band had a point.

  There’s a sweet cherry pie, and I plan on tasting it.

  Mindy

  “How did it go?” Brianna asks me. “When I walked in on you guys, it looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

  We’re in my bedroom and I'm getting the clothes ready that I'm going to wear for my trip. I packed a lot of nice dresses, and now I’ve got a problem. I might have packed some nice things, but I’ve got to do some shopping to get a few more outfits that would be more in line with what my mom would expect.

  Peering at myself in the mirror, I spin around and place my hands on my hips, fixing Brianna with a scowl. “I don't appreciate your sending me in there unarmed. He was an asshole.”

  Brianna lets out a laugh. “Unarmed? What did you want to go in there with? A shotgun? I’ve never known a man you couldn’t wrap around your finger in about two minutes flat,” she says with a snap of her fingers.

  I shrug. “I dunno. A big fat dildo, maybe? So I could’ve shoved it up his cocky ass.”

  “Mindy!” Brianna protests. “What did I tell you about these words around Rafe? You can't be saying those things! He’s started repeating every new word that he hears!”

  “Sorry, Rafey,” I say to the little boy who's sitting atop a mountain of my discarded clothes, playing with one of my sports bras.

  I get lucky, as he seems to have ignored my foul mouth and instead pulls one of my sports bras on top of his head. “Look, Mommy! I’m a Duacone!”

  “A what?” I ask, giving Bri a glance.

  “Cartoon,” Brianna says with a chuckle before looking back at me. “Still . . . why so mad?”

  “Are you kidding? I was sweating bullets before I even walked in there!” I say, my face flushing. “He wasn’t what I expected, and I’m just frustrated that he was able to get the upper hand on me.”

  “And I . . .” I clench my fists, my breath tight in my throat. “He got to me, okay?”

  Brianna’s jaw drops. “I can't believe I’m hearing this. Aren’t you supposed to be Miss Fearless? The woman who takes life by the balls?”

  “Balls,” echoes Rafey. “I like balls!”

  I mock-scold Brianna, sticking out my tongue. “Wanna tell me where your son gets his bad language again?”

  Brianna scowls at me. “I’m so going to kill you.”

  I spread my arms defensively as Brianna glares murder at me. “I just wish you would’ve told me.”

  “Told you what?” Brianna asks, trying hard to be mad but looking like she wants to burst into laughter.

  I gesture sharply, leaning in to whisper so Rafe can’t hear. “That he was hot as fuck!”

  Bri looks at me out of the side of her eyes before she shakes her head. “How was I supposed to know? I’d never met him.”

  “I don't believe you,” I say. “You did that on purpose.”

  Brianna looks genuinely hurt. “I swear to you, I didn't. I never saw him before I walked into the room with Gavin. It was his idea.”

  I look into my best friend’s eyes to see she’s telling the truth, and I sigh, shaking my head but not smiling yet. “Never mind that. I seriously don't know how I’m going to live a week with that guy without killing him.”

  Brianna glances at Rafe, who’s now quite happily turning my Under Armour sports bras into hand puppets, and leads me into my connecting bathroom. “Was he that bad?”

  “You’re damn right!” I growl, letting go for the first time. “You wanna know what he told me?”

  “What?”

  My hand goes to my throat, remembering
his deep voice and the way that it both pissed me off and turned me on. “Basically, that he would do anything to me that he wants since we’re supposed to be engaged.”

  Brianna gapes. “He did not!”

  I nod, my skin flushed. It pisses me off that I’m getting hot thinking about it.

  Brianna thinks for a minute, then chuckles. “Well shit, you said he’s hot, right? That should be right up your alley.”

  I glower at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Brianna shrugs, leaning against the bathroom wall and grinning. “I recall a certain person urging me to sleep with Gavin when I barely knew him.”

  “But this is different,” I protest. “Gavin was sweet. He wanted to court you, treat you like a princess. This guy . . .” I shake my head as the curl of his cocky lips appears in my mind. Oh, what those lips could do to my . . .

  I shove the treasonous thoughts away, my chest heaving. “He’s different. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “You all right?” Brianna teases, raising an eyebrow. “Feeling a little hot in here? Need a cold shower or two?”

  I wave her off. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Brianna replies. “So, should I close the door behind me so you can break out your purple friend?”

  I scowl. “Please. He might be hot, but he’s not that hot.”

  I smile, and we both start laughing at how bad my lie was. “I might need to take it with me though,” I admit. “We’re going to have to fake all this affection. From what he says, he’s not exactly worried about keeping his hands to himself, but with how he was talking to me, I’m not about to sleep with him.”

  Right then, I see Rafey pull out a red number from the pile of clothes, a dress I bought years ago but have never worn. Even for me, it’s pretty sexy and flirty.

  “Oh, Rafey, I can just kiss you,” I say, rushing over and grabbing it from him, but he hangs on like a toddler will. He giggles as I tickle him and deliver kisses to his head, letting go of the dress and letting me snatch it up without any more trouble.