by Cynthia Dane
“Unfortunately, everyone knows she’s playing for the home team, so I’m thinking more the brunette.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. See you at the marina?”
“Sure.”
Zachary finally left, and Miguel had his peace, but he still didn’t have Judith and it must’ve been at least twenty minutes between coming here and Zachary’s leaving. Where in the world was she, and what was taking her so long? Was she caught up talking to someone else? Dinner be damned. Miguel got up and went to investigate.
Hundreds of people in their designer dresses and suits/tuxes mingled in the hallways and other corridors. They gummed up entrances and dominated the time of every usher. Women shrieked as zippers and heels broke, chasing them into bathrooms where seamstresses were on hand. Men muttered about weddings and what a lucky bastard Ethan Cole was. When Miguel caught a glimpse of groom and bride strolling through the foyer, he had to agree. The newly minted Mrs. Cole was radiant on her wedding day.
After accidentally bumping into a Saudi prince and almost incurring the wrath of the deadly bodyguard, Miguel came upon a different kind of commotion. A small, tittering crowd gathered around a far corner near a maintenance closet. All Miguel could gather from eavesdropping was that a couple had been caught doing the nasty when someone else tried to use the maintenance closet for the same thing.
It was all terribly amusing until Miguel saw a red dress and strawberry blond hair. The fact that Judith was not a spectator but the star of the show didn’t shock Miguel the most – seeing her in Seth’s arms was another matter!
Chapter 32
JUDITH
Judith was rarely embarrassed – let alone ashamed – of what she did with her own body. Since she was of a certain age, she had done all sorts of crazy things, let alone in public!
Being caught in a closet with Seth was not something she ever thought she would be kinda-sorta ashamed of.
How the fuck had she even arrived there? One moment she was having pleasant conversation with him, and the next? Boom. In the closet, happily making out with one of the only men who made her, well, happy. She didn’t even say no or think anything but pleasant things when Seth pulled up her skirt and drove his cock into her.
They were only caught because some other tipsy, horny couple had the same idea to use this closet for their wedding reception jollies. One moment, boom, fucking. The next? Boom, exposed to a small gathering of people…
A small gathering of people…
That included…
Miguel.
He stood in the back of the crowd, but his height made him unmistakable. Oh my God. No. Judith pulled her skirt down farther but could not cover what Seth had already done. Apparently there had been enough time for him to climax, with or without her. Thanks a fucking lot, Seth!
That same man was now zipped up and did his best to not look absolutely horrified. Judith was fighting for the same composure as she shoved her way through the crowd and ran for the women’s restroom. Laughter and lewd comments followed her.
She didn’t care about any of that. What she cared about was that look in Miguel’s eyes. Not anger. Not amusement.
Plotting. Men were most dangerous when they plotted… in jealousy.
Judith was afraid to come out of the single-stall restroom. Afraid of what she had to face between the two men she…
What?
Loved?
Ha!
Get a grip. She splashed water on her face after cleaning herself up. This isn’t something you can’t handle. She had only gone back on her promise to Miguel to be with him that day. The man who would be her patron soon enough. Fuck, I’m so stupid!
She had been stupid for weeks now. These men were making her too stupid to function, let alone run her business!
Judith creaked the bathroom door open to make sure no one was watching for her. When the coast was clear, she snuck out and attempted to search for Miguel. Wish I wasn’t wearing a bright red dress or had blond hair. Good news was that most of the other guests would forget about the sexy gaffe soon enough.
Neither Miguel nor Seth was easy to find. In fact, Judith couldn’t locate them at all. She checked the ballroom. Nope. The lounge. Nope. She even braved asking the men standing in line for the restroom if they had seen either man. Nobody had.
She even asked the Prince of Liechtenstein or Luxembourg or Andorra or wherethefuckever. His Royal Highness had seen no one matching those descriptions, although he did admit to knowing Miguel. Because of course he did. Judith half expected to see Prince Albert II of Monaco wandering around there too.
Finally, she got a lead when she asked one of the ushers. It was not a lead she wanted.
“You mean the two gentlemen who went out back? I haven’t seen it for myself, ma’am, but I believe they’re committing fisticuffs.”
“What?”
“They’re fighting!” some old woman translated behind her. “I’m gonna go watch!”
Was the building on fire? Because that’s how fast Judith ran, pushing men in Armani and women in Givenchy aside in the hopes of finding Miguel and Seth before they got arrested. She eventually made it to the main banquet table in the ballroom, where groom Ethan and bride Jasmine sat in their wedded bliss.
Fuck ‘em!
“Have either one of you seen my dates?” Judith slapped her hands against the banquet table to get their attention. “I think they might be brawling out back!”
“What?”
“What?”
“Shit,” Judith hissed. “Do not tell Monica, okay? Happy wedding!” She tore away from the table and headed for the rear exit.
She had no idea who she would run into out there. No idea what she would see. Think. Feel. All Judith knew was that the moment the fresh June air hit her, she was blinded by the setting sunlight.
A few people milled around, taking smoke breaks or otherwise getting fresh air. Judith searched their faces for her men, but found no sign of Seth, and no trace of Miguel.
Until she reached the edge of the woods, the uneven terrain threatening to knock her off her stilettos if she didn’t yank them off and run barefoot through the grass.
“…So we have an agreement, right?” That sounded like Miguel. Judith spun around. Sure enough, the tall European stood in front of a large evergreen tree, his hand tenuously on Seth’s shoulder. The other man stood straight with his arms crossed defensively. I know that look by now. Miguel probably thought Seth was following along, but Judith knew that was nothing but great amusement, as if Miguel were trying to explain best medical practices to him. “You’ve lost, friend. No hard feelings, right? I’ll buy you a drink sometime.”
At least they weren’t fighting…
“Miguel! Seth!” They both turned with a start at the sound of her voice. Miguel yanked his hand off Seth’s shoulder. “What are you two doing? Look, Miguel… I am sorry. That was grossly inappropriate of me.”
“No hard feelings.” He pulled out one hand to extend to her. “We were having a manly heart-to-heart. Seth frowned, staring at the imaginary line between Miguel’s hand and Judith’s. She did not take the bait. Instead, she looked to Seth, who finally gained some life back in his eyes.
“He was telling me the most interesting thing,” Seth began. “Apparently his final bid has been accepted above mine. Did you know this?”
Judith turned her gaze to a ladybug by her bare foot. “I did. I’m sorry. I should have told you, but was waiting.”
“How about that?” Seth held out his hand to Miguel for a shake. “The richest man won, I suppose. Congratulations. We both know she’ll make you happy.”
“Yes, I suppose we do.” Miguel gave Seth a firm handshake. Something is making me uneasy about this… “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to crowd you out on your regular schedule with her. I hear you have Sundays, though. You might want to reschedule that because I intend on flying her all over the world on weekends.”
Judith saw it happen before Seth e
ven raised his other hand, but she was too slow to stop it. All she could do was shout in horror as her tender artist slammed his fist into Miguel’s face.
The people wanted a fistfight? They damn well got one, complete with the commentary of a frantic Judith dancing around them, screaming at them to come to their senses and stop acting like Neanderthals.
Neither of them was listening.
What the fuck made men so damn territorial? Was it some bullshit evolutionary theory that they had to have total control over a woman, or else it implied their children weren’t his? Because we all know how important that is! Or were they living, walking pricks sent by the universe to drive women insane?
In a perfect world, Judith King, professional courtesan and all-around sex worker, would have walked away from these macho lunatics and let the police and Monica straighten them out. What was it to her? It was in her best interest to keep Miguel happy since he was going to be her official patron. Yet watching Seth land that blow made her feel more than strange or anxious… it made her realize that nothing was scaring her more than watching the two men she cared about most fighting – fighting! – over her.
She didn’t feel honored. She didn’t feel flattered. She felt sick to her heart and stomach.
“Stop it!” Judith shrieked, tears of panic streaming down her face as one man went at the other with all the testosterone fueling his body. “What are you bastards doing? Stop acting like idiots!”
In truth, perhaps only a few seconds had gone by, but it felt like an awful eternity full of watching two opposing sides wage war over a precious commodity. Before, Judith had no issue calling herself a commodity for sale to the highest bidder – although she retained the right to reject that bidder. Now it felt… well, this was what could happen if she wasn’t careful. This is what Monica was warning her about!
Judith shoved herself between them, one hand smacking Seth on the face and the other shoving Miguel back as hard as it could. All three of them tumbled to the ground in a flurry of fine cloth and flashing jewels. One of the rubies in Judith’s keyhole disappeared in the grass forever.
“You stupid assholes,” she grunted, heaving herself up on her grass-stained arms. “Are you fucking five or from the Stone Age or both?”
Neither of them said anything. Miguel, propped up on one arm, rubbed his jaw. Seth panted as if that was the most amount of energy he had ever expended.
“For fuck’s sake!” Judith was up, wobbling on a rolled ankle but refusing to go back down. “What are you doing talking to one of my clients like that?” That was sent to Miguel. “What are you doing punching out one of my clients?” That went to Seth. Still, neither man responded.
Seth eventually shoved himself up with a heavy grunt. “Kindly tell your smug patron that he doesn’t have to rub it in.”
“Tell your artist friend here that he doesn’t have to be such a sore loser.”
“That’s it.” Judith picked up both of her shoes and tossed them at the men. “You’re both insufferable, masochistic shitheads who are a bigger pain in my ass than a lamp-sized butt plug! The only shitty thing about my job is having to deal with immature snots like you boys! Yeah, that’s right.” She glared at them both, head whipping around so quickly that her hair had no idea which way to move. “Boys. Don’t care if you’re both older than me. You’re a pair of fucking boys and it’s a wonder y’all’s balls have dropped!”
“Judith, I…”
“It was…”
“No.” By now more than one person from the smoking corner was looking at them. If they had missed the punch-out, they were making up for it now. “I don’t care what you say regarding your feelings for me. If you both loved me as much as you claim to, you wouldn’t treat each other like this. Because you’d know how it affects me.” Her throat was starting to hurt. She didn’t care. “Acting like this isn’t making fools of yourselves. You’re outright disrespecting me, and I do not tolerate that!”
They both looked up at her as if she had grown a second head.
“Furthermore…” Her voice lowered. “Neither one of you is better than the other. Neither one of you treats me better than the other. I’m happy with you both! Don’t you fucking get it? I don’t care what you assholes say. No matter what, I would never be happy with just one man! Why do you think I do my job so well? My brain and body don’t think like that. There isn’t a single man in this world who could make me happy all by himself, no matter how noble he thinks he is…” She glared at Seth. “…Or how big his fucking dick is.” The glare shifted to Miguel. “There’s no such thing as the perfect man. Even if there was, neither of you would be it!”
She stepped away. Neither lover reacted.
“Finally…” Judith turned, torn apart and tired. “I love you both, in different ways… but I love you both. Either deal with it or get out of my life. I’m not a prize to be won in some pissing match. I am a fucking human being who deserves your respect and understanding. It’s a business contract! You’re both rich businessmen! Act like you know what that means!”
Seth crossed his legs and leaned his hands against them, head bowed. Miguel pretended that there was something fascinating in the woods. Judith wanted to smack them both again.
“I’m leaving. If I ever find out about you two fighting like this again, I will permanently eject you both from my life. There isn’t enough money in the world to deal with that bullshit. I may love you stupid brutes, but I’ve lived and made my way without you before, and I can do it again. Don’t contact me unless it’s for business and realize that I will only agree to see you if you’re acting like a civilized man who can think rationally and treat me like I deserve to be treated. You do me no honor behaving like children.”
Judith made good on her word and left the wedding, shoes slipped back on her feet. All she told Monica before she left, with leaves and dirt in her hair, was that something had come up and she and Miguel would be leaving separately. To her credit, Monica did not question what was going on. I’m sure she’ll find out later.
Taxis milled around the event. Judith found the first one that wasn’t paid to wait for a guest and got the hell out of there. She didn’t go straight back to the Château, though. Instead, she hit up a hotel downtown and rented a room for the night. Not before going down to the bar to drink herself into a stupor that would guarantee no dreams that night, though.
Chapter 33
SETH
“Thank you for coming,” Seth said, meeting Judith in the lobby of their hotel in New York. “I wasn’t sure you still would.”
He did not readily exhibit his shame over behaving in such a crude way at the wedding a week ago, but he did hope his somber tone conveyed how sorry he really was. I’m sorry, Judith. I’m really fucking sorry. You’ve got to believe how sorry I am. I am a sorry man of epically sorry proportions. Sheesh. Those didn’t even sound good in his head.
Judith didn’t smile, hug, or kiss him on the cheek. She rolled one suitcase behind her and tucked a cloth bag over her shoulder. “Like I would miss this.” He couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm or not.
“If you want, I could get you your own room. I don’t think they’re fully booked here.” It was one of the nicer hotels in the area, but it was far enough away from the Independence Day action to keep some vacancies. “I had originally planned to share one.”
Judith snorted. “Of course you did. You do love your bed cuddles and pillow talk.”
Seth paled.
A smile cracked on Judith’s face. Laughing, she said, “What? Did I insult your masculinity or something? Please. Manage to not piss me off today and I’ll do whatever you want later.” She hoisted her cloth bag again. “Now come on! I need to dump this shit somewhere, and you need to make some things up to me.”
Seth was betwixt relief and unease as he followed Judith to the nearest elevator.
For a whole week he had been beside himself with regret. Ever since punching Miguel out in what was perhaps the dumbest act of te
stosterone he had ever indulged in, Seth became convinced that Judith hated him.
If losing out the silent auction was bad enough… losing her entirely would have broken his heart, perhaps irreparably.
The only time he contacted the Château was to ask if Judith was still coming to New York with him. Monica told him that Judith had not changed her mind about that, but two things had changed: one, Seth would pay for a First Class airline ticket on a separate plane, and two, Judith required a higher appearance fee for the gallery. Whether that was actually Monica’s stipulation and not Judith’s remained to be seen.
So Seth flew up on his own and arrived two hours earlier, checking into his – their – hotel room and set to wait for Judith’s arrival from JFK. Naturally, he had intended for this to be a pleasure weekend as well as a business one. The gallery opened on Sunday and Judith didn’t have to be back until Tuesday, giving them three nights together. To think I had been so excited. I’m such a fucking idiot. Judith was right all along.
Except she said she would share a room with him. Seth would pay handsomely for this weekend, but he considered it not only worth it, but his best opportunity to properly apologize to Judith for his behavior at the wedding.
He led her to their suite. It wasn’t Presidential or even Royal, but it was up to her standards as she inspected both the king-sized bed and the claw foot tub in the bathroom. Judith was already looking through the room service menus.
Whatever she wanted. Seth would have said that already, but it was especially true today. “I was thinking we could have dinner at the restaurant across the street,” he said. “I’ve ate there before. Good Thai food.”
She still smiled at him, although Seth had a feeling that some of her usual warmth was missing. “Sounds good. I don’t mind Thai.”
Dinner was delicious, and Judith made no allusions to what had happened. She probably wanted to put it all behind her, and Seth was on board with that. So as soon as dinner was over, he walked with her hand-in-hand to a local movie theater and treated her to whatever she wanted to see. He… was not counting on a French art-house film about clowns. I’m being punished. Fair enough.
