Abe: Four in Hand

by Mj Fields

  “Nikolette,” he said as he walked up the basement stairs, “I really appreciate you not being angry about this.”

  “It’s upsetting.”

  “I understand and I will get a new electrician as soon as I can find one. It shouldn’t take too long. In the meantime, call if you need anything.” He started walking to his big white Dodge, “Oh and take a week’s rent off next month. I truly am sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  I turned, walked into the building, past Thomas, who said nothing, absolutely nothing to me. Odd.

  ***

  I punched the code on Mr. O’Donnell’s security system and the gate opened. I pulled in, parked my car, and grabbed my briefcase, a gift from my parents. They were upset I was coming to New Jersey a week early, but I needed a change. They mailed it to me and when I called to thank them, my mother explained that had I kept to my original plan she would have been able to give it to me in person.

  I entered through the garage per the instructions Mr. O’Donnell had sent me in an email. Bouncing off the concrete walls, “Back in Black,” played loudly. I opened the industrial door leading to a home gym that was no less impressive than a commercial gym, and I saw him.

  He was running on a treadmill. Shirtless. Dear God, help me remain professional. With each stride, his back muscles and calves flexed. His backside was so toned, that I could see his muscles contract while he ran. Sweat dripped down his golden tan body and I decided I needed to turn away, so I did.

  The song stopped and I heard the beep, beep, beep, of the machine being turned down to a lower speed and then I heard him panting, trying to catch his breath.

  “Miss Bassett, you’re early,” his said through labored breath.

  I was ten minutes early, “It’s a habit I apologize.”

  I still didn’t dare turn around.

  “Go on upstairs,” he panted, “I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

  I walked up the concrete stairs and into the spacious living-kitchen-dining room. I sat on the sofa and pulled out my notebook, pen, and recording device. He walked past me and up another flight of stairs.

  I heard water running as I sat and pictured him showering off his spectacular body. How on God’s green earth would I remain professional? How would I not want to ask him why he said all the things he did in Florida when he already had me in bed. How would I not wonder if he had said those things to the two women I had seen here just days ago.

  I looked down at the paper I was doodling on and realized I had drawn what appeared to be waves. I quickly pulled the paper free from its bindings and tore it up. If he saw it, he would know that I thought of him often.

  I got up and walked into the kitchen area trying to find a trashcan. I opened a few doors thinking it may be inside one of them. Everything was perfectly placed in each cupboard I opened.

  I heard him clear his throat and looked up. He was leaning against the brick wall wearing loose fitting jeans and a navy tee shirt that fit perfectly with his arms crossed, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  He thought I was snooping, damn, “I was looking for your trashcan.”

  He took three long strides to me and held out his hand for the waded paper I held tightly balled in my fist. Begrudgingly, I gave it to him and he opened the cupboard next to the one I had just closed and tossed it in.

  “Thank you.” The words had a double meaning, thank you for throwing it away and thank you for not looking at it.

  “You’re welcome,” he motioned to the stairs, “My office is up here.”

  I followed him up the stairs to another open area. He pointed to the left where a large wooden desk sat, but my eyes looked right to his bedroom area. Against the far wall, an enormous bed covered in a dark gray comforter was made up neatly with white pillows and a white bed skirt. Directly opposite was a wall of windows that overlooked the city and the shore.

  “Miss Bassett?”

  I looked up and he was already seated behind his desk while I stood at the top of the stairs.

  “Have a seat.”

  My face was in flames when I looked at the amusement dancing in his eyes. I couldn’t even be angry, but I certainly was mortified.

  “You like my bedroom?” he asked smugly.

  “Very utilitarian,” I answered as I sat across from him.

  He looked down and his jaw tightened as if he were trying not to respond to me. He opened a file and pulled out a paper and pushed it, along with a pen, toward me.

  “This is our agreement. Before we begin, I ask that you sign it and understand that what you are signing is a legal document. It will hold up in court.”

  I was immediately irritated, “You do understand that I don’t really need to interview you to write a story, Mr. O’Donnell,” I said as I pushed the paper back toward him.

  He pushed it back to me, “You do understand that when I spoke to your editor this morning he agreed to me having you sign this don’t you, Miss Bassett?”

  “What did you say to him?” I snapped.

  “I don’t understand the question, could you be more specific?” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

  “Did you tell him about…about—” I stopped, too embarrassed to ask the question.

  “Miss Bassett, what happened between you and I in Florida—”

  “Don’t, please just don’t bring it up,” I could feel the flames burning my face under my skin.

  “To be fair, you brought it up. I would love to forget about it completely,” he chuckled.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He cocked his head to the side and scowled. “Why don’t you decide whether or not you want to discuss it or forget about it after you sign the paper?”

  “I’m not signing anything,” I mumbled like a little kid.

  He was beside me in a split second. He pulled my chair back and I grabbed ahold of the desk to stop from moving under his strong hold.

  He leaned over my shoulder and very quietly said, “Miss Bassett, without this agreement being signed we have nothing further to discuss. That means it’s time for you to leave.”

  He smelled wonderful, which made me angry. What had come over me? I was acting like a fool, a complete and total fool. I needed this, I couldn’t mess it up, “Fine, I’ll read it.”

  He stood and walked around his desk and sat again.

  “The paper simply states if I say something off the record, it’s off the record, and that this story is completely on my terms. I will allow you to use your creative voice as long as you do not paint me out to be something I am not. I also get to read everything and approve it before it goes to edit. Your editor doesn’t get a copy of your interview until I say it’s okay. Do you understand, Miss Bassett?”

  “Yes,” I looked at the paper. What he said was accurate, but I wouldn’t sign it until after I read it.

  When I finished, I pushed it over to him and he let out an exaggerated deep breath and pushed another paper over to me.

  “This is how I see this interview. I want you to keep it and understand that you have my permission at any time to turn this in and call it yours.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because we are going to have one hell of a discussion off the record before we move forward.”

  I looked at his stone cold expression and felt slightly chilled myself.

  “Shall I begin?” he asked.

  “Do as you please, Mr. O’Donnell,” I huffed. You will anyways.

  Off The Record

  Abe

  “Perfect. I ask that you hear me out before you get all pissed off and storm out.”

  She nodded. She was already pissed off, which was fine by me.

  “I don’t trust you at all.”

  “That’s not fair,” she began.

  “Don’t interrupt, Miss Bassett,” I warned and her jaw clamped shut. “Trust not given is trust not earned, do you understand what that means in our situation?”


  “No, but I assume you’re going to tell me.”

  “It means you left Ft. Lauderdale not because you had something at home to deal with. Deception number one. You probably told yourself that you were afraid of what I may have done to you, but right there was deception number two. You enjoyed every moment of the pleasure my body and mouth gave you, pleasure, Miss Bassett, beyond your wildest imagination. You are as sexually inexperienced as they come, Miss Bassett, but you portray a sensual and sexy-as-hell confidence that led me to believe otherwise. Deception number three. When you saw me at Steel the first day, you’re gonna tell me you weren’t completely turned on by just the thought of me having a bit of control over this situation, just as I had in Florida, and that, Miss Bassett, would be deception number four. I think we should stop right there at four, don’t you?”

  “Why’s that? Because it’s easier to keep track of your conquests that way, Mr. O’Donnell? Who was it leaving here the other day, one and two?” She huffed.

  “Deception, number five, is what you’re doing to yourself right now,” I stared into her eyes.

  “I don’t want to do this.” She stood up and I got up and grabbed her elbow stopping her.

  “You want this very badly, Miss Bassett. So badly you can think of nothing else.”

  She shuttered a bit and then closed her eyes. When she opened them she stepped into me and looked up, I knew what she was asking for, but I wasn’t even close to being there yet.

  “Have a seat, Miss Bassett,” I said no more than an inch from her lips.

  Her eyes widened and she stepped back.

  “You’re playing a game with me?” I didn’t answer; part of me wanted her to figure it out for herself. “I’m not one of your whores.”

  I walked around and sat, “Never said you were, Miss Bassett. But while we are on the subject, let’s discuss shall we?”

  I pointed to the chair and she sat down.

  “Off the record,” I waited for her to nod and she did, tossed in with a bit of an eye roll. “What did you see the other day?”

  “You know what I saw.”

  “I’m not sure you truly understand, so before going into detail I want to know what you saw, Miss Bassett.” When she didn’t answer, I continued, “Miss Bassett, the sooner we get through this the sooner we move to the interview.”

  “You slept with two different women in a day?” she gasped.

  “I have before. Not a normal thing, no.”

  “You pay them?”

  “Off the record, yes. I have to be very careful with who I choose to bed. Like you for instance, we didn’t exchange names, you knew nothing about me, I knew nothing about you so it was a safe hook up.”

  “Hook up.” She whispered and quickly looked away.

  “That only offends you for two reasons. One, you are not the type of girl who does casual hook ups, and two, because you’re comparing your sexual experience with me against that of mine with them.”

  “I’m not a hooker!”

  “That’s right; I never treated you like one.”

  She shifted uncomfortably and crossed her legs.

  “Miss Bassett.”

  “My name is Nikolette. You’ve been inside of me, Abe, you didn’t act like this there,” her eyes filled with tears, which I didn’t expect, “You are making me feel like one. You! Not me.”

  My heart beat faster and I had to grab hold of the arms of the chair to stop myself from standing. She left Ft Lauderdale, I didn’t.

  “How so?” I tried not to hide the anger.

  “You’re going to own my body, you’re going to…you said a lot of very crude things.”

  “Which made you come even harder.”

  “You son of a bitch,” she stood up and grabbed her things and walked to the stairs.

  “Off the record, Miss fucking Bassett, you left a goddamned note and ran.”

  One tear fell from her face and she wiped it away, “And I did so in the wrong direction.”

  I listened as her heels clinked down the stairs and the door shut.

  “FUCK!”

  ***

  The next day I sat at my desk waiting for a reply. Miss Bassett had left the interview I had written for her to submit on my desk when she walked out. I emailed her a copy. When I received an email from her editor, I nearly spit my coffee on the computer.

  Subject: Interview

  Body: I wanted to thank you for agreeing to do this exclusive interview with The Shore. Miss Bassett said she had a chance to meet with you yesterday and that even though you had a very tight schedule; you were gracious enough to give a bit of your time.

  To be honest, I was going to send a male. But now, I’m glad Miss Bassett showed up a bit early.

  Bogart Humph, Editor

  The Shore

  I didn’t reply.

  Jase walked into my office and smiled that “I got laid last night” smile.

  “Bro, please turn it down a bit, your wife is my cousin.”

  “I know,” he sat across from me and kept smiling.

  “I don’t wanna hear about it, Jase.”

  “Yeah you do,” he chuckled.

  I looked up at him, “No really I don’t.”

  “Let’s just say pregnant women are fucking hot in their third trimester.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Jase I—”

  I stopped when Carly walked in with the female version of Jase’s smile plastered on her face, “Good morning, Abe,” she looked at Jase and smiled. “Good morning, Jase Steel.”

  “Certainly was, Carly Steel.” He winked at her, “Come here, baby.”

  I stood up and walked out of my office, I don’t even think they noticed.

  I sat in Jase’s office, because apparently, when I left for vacation, my office became Fuck Central. Carly walked in just a few minutes later.

  “Hey,” she looked concerned.

  “Hey,” I looked away.

  “You wanna talk about it?” She sat on the edge of Jase’s desk and looked at me.

  “About what?”

  “The beautiful girl that you met on vacation who happens to be doing this interview and is apparently stalking you.”

  “Does your husband tell you everything?”

  “No,” she smiled and rubbed her round belly. “I love you, Abe. You keep a lot inside. That doesn’t always work out well for people, you know.”

  “I’m not like them, Carly,” I assured her.

  She smiled and shook her head, “More alike than you care to admit.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well for starters, you bury your hurt and forbid anyone to acknowledge it.”

  “Carly, don’t.”

  “Okay,” she leaned forward and kissed my head before standing. “And because when you fell, it pissed you off, so you’ll fight it. Which is more Cyrus than the others, but you’re doing it now.”

  “Not at all the same as he and Tara.”

  “Maybe not the same exactly.”

  “Not even close, Carly.”

  “Fine, but you’re scared to let her know how you feel and I think you need to tell her.”

  Holy shit, Jase could keep some shit to himself. She didn’t know Four took off on me.

  “How is she?”

  “Carly,” I warned.

  “No, Abe, how is your Mom?”

  “Fine,” I stood to walk away and she hugged me so goddamn tight. “I love you Carly, but that’s—”

  “Off limits?”

  “Way off limits.”

  “If you ever want to talk, let me know.”

  “Yeah.” I gave her another squeeze and a kiss on the head.

  When I let go and looked up, Jase was walking in with a grin on his face and Miss Bassett was standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face.

  Carly nudged me and I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on in, Nikolette. We were just talking about you.”

  “Carly,” I snapped at her.

>   “You be nice to our sexy little pregnant woman, O’Donnell, or I will have to take her away again. Come on in, Nikolette.” Jase opened the door wider.

  “I have to use the bathroom,” she said before running away.

  “What the hell was that all about?”

  “No idea, but she looked like she was going to get sick,” Carly started walking out the door after her.

  “Leave it alone.”

  “Baby, Abe wants to do this his way.”

  “What if she’s pregnant?” Carly whispered.

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Bro she thinks everyone is knocked up around here. Says it’s in the water.” I must have looked panicked because he appeared amused, “Jersey Shore water, not south Florida, bro.”

  E-Mail

  Nikolette

  I walked into the bathroom and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. Somehow I had gotten myself involved in a very twisted situation. If my instincts were right, that Carly woman who was married to Jase Steel had something going on with Abe O’Donnell, too.

  I pretended to wash my hands as a petite brunette walked in and smiled a shy, sweet smile. She pulled up her shirt, looked at her belly in the mirror, and smiled at it adoringly. Just then, a tall curvy blonde came out of the bathroom and she bent down and kissed the brunette’s belly.

  “I cannot wait to hold that baby,” the blonde gushed.

  “You should get pregnant.”

  “Oh hell no, there are gonna be enough little Steels running around here, so many in fact that I’m afraid we’ll get them mixed up. We’ll have to ask “who’s your Daddy” to figure it out and then they won’t even know because this family is so twisted up in each other.”

  I had to tune her out. I didn’t want to know anymore. I felt nauseated for a moment and then even worse when Carly entered the bathroom.

  “Is it a party in here?” She smiled and hugged the two women.

  “Party in the potty,” the little brunette laughed as she rubbed her very small bump.