by Jess Bentley
Enter one Fernando Rosario y Garcia y Villanueva. Swarthy and mind-numbingly handsome, Fernando swept Whitney right off her Jimmy Choo shoes, plying her with sweet nothings until she lost her mind and fell madly in love with him. After a quick trip around the Riviera, Fernando’s attentions were almost diverted to the starlet Joanna Kinkel, whereupon Whitney demanded that they wed posthaste.
Three short weeks later, Joanna is living in Whitney’s Manhattan penthouse, the divorce papers have been signed, and Fernando is a newly minted billionaire.
Poor Whitney, we can confirm, no longer is.
My mouth drops open as I gasp.
“Is this all true? Did this really happen?”
Nance nods excitedly. “Every word of it! Confirmed by three sources. Whitney is penniless!”
I just take deep breaths, enjoying the heavily scented air in my office where Nance has hidden an assortment of Yankee candles. The joke is on her—I like the scent.
“It’s like a Christmas miracle!” I sigh.
“Sometimes fate really works!” she observes sagely.
“You know, it felt really small of me,” I confess, confiding in Nance for the first time since I’ve been back in Sacramento, “but Whitney really bothered me. It really bothered me that she hit the jackpot. And that they just let her, you know? They just let her take all their money!”
“Well, not all their money,” Nance rolls her eyes. “But I know what you mean. It just sucks when the bad guys win, doesn’t it?”
“This is way better!” I grin. I reach for my cell phone, then remember I have no one else to call. I want to talk to Carty, to congratulate him or console him, whatever he needs. But I never even got so much as a phone number.
It’s impossible. It’s over. I keep forgetting, then remembering, then forgetting. Then remembering again.
“You okay?” Nance asks carefully.
I look at her, my eyes stinging with tears that want to come out. But then I remember, I can’t tell her. Not after everything that has happened. I’m not ready to trust her yet. Maybe one day, but not yet.
“Totally okay!” I answer brightly.
I see the disappointment on her face, but it passes almost immediately.
“Okay, well,” she says as she pushes herself out of the chair, “I’ll see you in just a little bit for the lunch thing.”
“Thai food,” I remark.
“Yeah, Thai food,” she says distractedly as she leaves my office.
Cautiously I open my laptop again and stare at the blurry words in front of me. Since I have been back, writing this book has been my only real project. I no longer have to write three hundred words of filler Netflix series synopsis or try to interview anybody locally. I have one job, and that is writing this book.
Though the contract came from the publisher directly to me, my company stands to gain a lot as well. There will be lots of attention on our articles from now on, plus there’s always the chance something will get viral and be picked up by Buzzfeed or something.
That’s the dream.
To be honest, I’m having trouble finishing. I have recounted the entire Carruthers family history, starting with Eli in Boston… Actually, starting with Eli in Scotland.
Eli and Liam were scoundrels long before they ever boarded a boat to Boston. In my research, I found so many interesting stories about their lives. They were also very fond of dogs, I found out. When they traveled west, they took a pack of thirty mongrels and hunting dogs with them. In a day when dogs were more for work than for play, people thought it was very strange. But Eli and Liam were apparently tenderhearted, just like the Carrutherses I know.
But again, I have no one to tell that story to. Vaguely, I suppose that I hope they will read the book. I know that some of the stories will touch their hearts, and that gives me a little bit of peace.
But how to finish it? That remains the mystery. Once my story intersects with theirs, I’m not entirely sure what to say. I recounted the ski trip, and the storm that followed. I even changed Chad’s name to Tad so that he wouldn’t be embarrassed. That’s the kind of nice person I am.
Several times I tried to write about the cabin, but then stopped. Part of me was afraid that too many details would make readers curious enough to try to find it. It seemed like too much of an invasion.
And obviously, I couldn’t mention the marvelous suite of rooms in their mansion, outfitted with dozens upon dozens of clothes in various sizes, and every magical potion, lipstick, and mascara that had ever been invented. Certainly, that detail was far too intimate.
Not to mention, I couldn’t describe anything that happened after. Then again… that is a story. That’s my story though. That’s the story of how I began to feel alive. And also the story of how I brought them back to the land of the living.
But I don’t know how to write about that. And I can’t do it without their permission. So I am stuck.
I see people leaving, gathering around the elevators in the reception area. It’s time for lunch. Tucking my laptop under my arm, I thumb my handbag strap over my shoulder and head out with a smile. In a loose-fitting tunic and yoga pants, my condition is completely discreet. To her credit, Nance didn’t tell anyone. And I am not telling anyone either.
As a group, we just take over the sidewalk and head out into the sunlight. It is 80 degrees and sunny, just like every other day. The warmth seeps through my top, soaking my bones. I feel healthy and good, bursting with new life.
Just about perfect. Just about.
The trick is, I pop a peppermint in my mouth just before I go inside the restaurant. That way, the smell of ginger and onions doesn’t punch me right in the face and make me throw up into my handbag or anything. Nance keeps squinting at me, and I just smile and pretend I don’t notice.
Working lunches are ninety-five percent lunch, and five percent work. But everybody has their laptop out, shouting out ideas for articles that they’ve been collecting since the last meeting. There are some good ones, but I’m not really expected to participate. After all, I have my project to work on. Nobody expects me to do anything else.
After lunch, everyone seems to be in a pretty good mood. I hang at the back of the group, happy to shuffle slowly down the street. I’m not in any great hurry to get back to my office, to stare at the looming, gaping hole at the end of my novel. I know this is a problem I have to solve, but the solution hasn’t become obvious yet.
Nance slows down, gradually walking alongside of me. She gestures toward the gallery on Oak Street.
“It’s right there,” she says, picking up the conversation right where she left it earlier.
“Oh, okay… I know which building you mean now. That’s a nice spot. Do you like her?”
“Do I like her?” she repeats, as though that is the least interesting question I could have come up with. “Yeah, she’s nice. But I’ll be glad when this assignment is over. I always feel like I’m disappointing them, you know? Haven’t really clicked with anybody just yet.”
“I know what you mean,” I say, but I don’t really mean anything by it. I’m just filling up space.
“Do you want to see it? The gallery?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What? Now? You want to show me your new girlfriend right now?”
Nance shrugs, shading her eyes with her hand. “Sure, why not? Did you have a really busy afternoon planned or something?”
“I guess not," I mumble as she guides me toward the intersection.
It really is a nice location for a gallery. The building is enormous, the remains of a grandiose hotel done in stucco and red clay tile. The original wrought-iron decorations are still evident, and as we get closer I can see the hints of a hidden courtyard in the lines of the roof.
As we enter, Nance scurries off toward the back, presumably to find Alice, wherever she is. I cross my arms, the way people do when they are in art galleries so that you don’t touch anything you shouldn’t by mistake. The space is large and well lit, w
ith small canisters of lights on tracks pointed at the walls. Several large pieces of realistic seascapes take up one wall, so lifelike I can almost feel the water about to move. They are magnificent, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. They’re so large, I have to fight the urge to step into them.
“Beautiful, right?” comes a voice near to my ear.
I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I want it to happen again, to make sure it’s real.
“It looks so real, you could reach out and touch it,” comes a voice on my other side. Instantly I’m covered in goosebumps, so excited I am shaking.
Turning around slowly, I close my eyes, half certain that it’s just a fantasy. I just imagined it. It’s just my pregnant brain teasing me.
But when I open my eyes, it’s not a dream. Five nearly identical grins beam down on me, bathing me in their light. I can barely breathe, I’m so excited.
“Wait, what are you doing? Don’t cry! Please don’t cry!”
But I can’t help it. All of a sudden I’m choking, my cheeks bathed in tears, my breath caught at the back of my tongue like a small pebble. I reach out so that I don’t fall over, thrilled beyond words that Jake and Carty catch my hands, holding me up. I feel like a buoy on the seascape painting behind me, like I am just floating along, waiting for someone to catch me.
“Where did you come from?” I blabber when I can finally catch my breath. The guys guide me toward a bench and we all sit together, each facing a different way, but huddled as close as possible, like a pack of wolf puppies.
“We had to find you,” Timothy shrugs. “I don’t even have your phone number!”
“You just disappeared,” Liam pouts, shaking his head. “I couldn’t believe you just left like that, Lola. You just left!”
“Oh, I know! I’m so sorry,” I babble, reaching out to cup his cheek in my hand. The feeling of stubble on my palm is so wonderful I feel like I could start crying all over again. I reach out and touch each of them, making sure they’re real, that they are really here.
“I know you said that you wanted to be alone,” Carty says cautiously. “If you need us to leave, I understand. But we had to see you. We had to try.”
“I don’t think she minds,” Jake says, his voice low and comforting. I gaze up at him, at the steady strength in his eyes, feeling stronger than I have in months. I hadn’t even realized how I was struggling until just now. Being close to them again is like…
“I can’t come back with you,” I whisper. “My home is here. The mountain is so remote, and I’m afraid of what would happen, you know, being pregnant in the middle of nowhere.”
“What’s that old saying?” Kill quips. “Something about bringing the mountain to Mohammed?”
I shake my head. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you bring me a mountain?”
Jake smirks. “Not exactly.”
Carty holds his hands out, gesturing around the room. “It is one of the nice things about being fabulously wealthy. We could live anywhere. We could live on a cruise ship that circled the globe 365 days a year. We could buy an island in the middle of the Pacific.”
“We’ve got an option on being one of the first families on Mars!” Liam nods. Kill elbows him in the ribs.
“Not now, Liam!”
“Well, we do,” Liam pouts.
“Remember when you told me that you wanted to be alive?” Carty says, taking my hand in both of his.
“Yes, I do remember that. I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings.”
He shakes his head, pressing his lips together. I can sense all the emotion he’s holding back. “No, you are right. That was the right thing to do. For me, for all of us. For you too.”
“But what does that mean?”
“It means making decisions that lead us more into life. And for us, that means being wherever you are, Lola. There is no life without you.”
My heart stops. My ears are filled with the sound of rushing waves.
“What are you talking about, Carty?”
“We can’t live without you, Lola,” Jake adds, shaking his head. “We tried. We really did. But we just can’t do it.”
My eyes dart from brother to brother, meeting identical expressions. They are all nodding, watching me intently, asking me a silent question.
“So, we bought this building,” Carty continues, taking on his corporate tone again. “It’s perfect for us. Even bigger than the mountain mansion. The security is excellent, and we were able to outfit it with a birthing suite, even an apartment for live-in medical personnel, if it comes to that.”
“What are you saying? This building? The one we are in?”
“The very same,” Carty smiles proudly.
“Do you want a tour?” Timothy asks excitedly.
“You bet I want a tour!” I answer, grinning. “I can’t wait!”
As we stand together, it’s so easy to fall in walking with them. It feels so natural, with me slightly ahead and all five of them next to and behind me. It feels like something I have been missing in my heart all this time.
As we pass through the arched doorway that leads out into the secret courtyard, I catch Nance’s eye as she leans out of Alice’s office. She waves at me timidly, wiggling her fingers and I realize that she helped to arrange this. Maybe she is on my side, after all.
“Obviously, since it’s in the middle of town, we had to make some other adjustments,” Carty explains as he walks me through the courtyard. With the sound of a fountain, the noise from the road and people in the area just fade away.
“There are security guards on site, as well as cameras everywhere. But we didn’t want to disturb the architecture. All of these mosaics and murals are original to the building.”
“It’s really beautiful,” I breathe.
Carty grins at me, and I’m filled with relief to see that beautiful sight again.
“I am really glad to hear you say that. Would you like to see your room?”
My eyes go wide. “I have a room?”
“Only if you really want it,” Jake says. “I know we can be a bit overwhelming at times. This is still completely up to you, Lola. Just like it always was. It’s totally up to you.”
“It’s totally up to you, but please come back to us, Lola,” Timothy says, snatching my hand and holding it tightly between his. “Nothing is the same without you. Please.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I admit.
Carty turns the handle on a pair of enormous doors, hand-carved and inlaid with mosaics. When they swing open, my breath is taken away.
The room is even bigger than the mountain bedroom, but still has an enormous bed in the middle. Hand-carved bureaus and wardrobes line the walls, and with a wink at Timothy, I open the doors on the first one, delighted to find it filled with evening gowns in shimmering pinks and roses.
“Timothy! Did you do this?”
“Oh, you remembered!” he smiles, coming up behind me. He dips his head and runs his lips along the seam of my neck and shoulder, sending shivers down to my fingertips.
“How could I ever forget?” I ask, honestly wondering.
I turn around and automatically loop my hands behind Timothy’s thick neck, pushing up onto my toes to kiss him. His hands slide around my waist, lifting me off my feet and crushing me to him.
In a flurry, I find us all on the bed, past the point of being able to communicate in words. We slip automatically into our natural state—naked, twisting over each other, kissing and touching and pinching and sucking and licking in a frenzy of passion.
I hear moans filling the air, and I’m sure some of them are mine. Someone lifts me to the middle of the bed and someone else slides eager fingers between my pussy lips, finding me already wet and wanting. I close my eyes and open my mouth, grateful to find the salty, turgid head of Jake’s cock already ready for me. Hungrily I suck at it as Liam mounts me from behind, gently but persistently invading my ass as Kill mounts me from the front. Like clockwork, they both enter
me at the same time, their twin cocks filling me so completely I could cry with happiness while I nearly choke on Jake’s swollen erection.
Timothy slides up close to me, biting my shoulders as he pumps his cock in my hand. And Carty fits himself into the last available space, working his hard dick in my other hand. For a brief, glorious moment, I have all five men in and on my body. Like a symphony, I work them all at once, jerking, sucking, licking, and fucking every single one of them until we all climax at the same time, our howls of passion filling the room, until there is nothing left to say.
We collapse together, finally reunited. I don’t know why I ever left them, but God willing, I never will again.
Chapter 21 - Epilogue
Lola
The air is icy and brisk, so clear I can see all the way across the lake to the mountains on the other side. As we stand at the top of the hill, I slide my skis back and forth, one at a time, leaning on my poles and ready to go.
Liam and Kill slide up next to me, ending with a flourish that sprays a plume of snow into the air.
“You guys are such showoffs,” I remark, eyebrows raised. “Is that any kind of example to set?”
Liam bends over, pushing his visor up to smile at little Eli, who is sitting on the back of his skis, pouting at his boots.
“Do you need help with that, little man?”
Eli shakes his head stubbornly, then pulls his mitten off to expose his fingers so he can get a better grip on the buckle. Once he’s sure it’s fastened correctly, he yanks his mitten back up and stands, smiling.
“I think I got it,” he says, just a tiny tone of stubbornness in his voice.
Liam taps the brim of Eli’s little orange cap.
“Of course you do,” he smiles fondly.
“How about you, are you all set?” Kill teases little Bella. She tucks her long, auburn curls behind her ears and attaches the straps tightly under her chin.
“I’m all set!” she announces.
