Try Me On for Size

by Stephanie Haefner

  “And who’s that?”

  “My father.” Mia grabbed her purse. “I’m going to confront Grant. Now.”

  “Not without me.”

  Mia thought to protest, but she really did need him. This plan might need some muscle. “Okay.”

  They headed out of her office toward the parking lot, but she stopped suddenly and turned. Oliver almost ran right into her. “Thank you. For not giving up when I told you to.”

  “I won’t give up on you, or your shop.”

  CHAPTER Twenty-Five

  Mia sat in the passenger side of Oliver’s Audi. He’d insisted on driving and she didn’t fight him.

  “I never would have noticed that tie,” she said as they drove.

  “Something told me to look at those photos again.”

  “I can’t believe Grant could be behind this. I know he wasn’t happy, but to destroy us? Even if my father had bribed him?”

  “We’ll get the answers we need. I’ll make sure of that.”

  They drove a few miles in silence, until Mia told him to make a left, then a right. She’d only been to Grant’s house once, when she’d driven him home after his car wouldn’t start a few months back.

  “There, the green house on the right.”

  Oliver pulled in front and they walked up the driveway past a brand-new sports car. The license plate holder read Montanari Motors. Looks like they found what Grant had been bribed with.

  Mia knocked on the door and after a minute it opened, but the second Grant met Mia’s gaze, he tried to push it shut. Oliver was too fast for him and pressed his weight to the door, forcing it open.

  “What the hell?” Grant said. “Get out of here.”

  “No. Not until you tell me everything you know.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t be an asshole,” Oliver stepped in. “You know exactly what she’s talking about. And we’re not leaving until you give her what she needs.”

  “Then you’re gonna be here forever, ’cause I have no clue.”

  Mia shoved the photo in his face of Logan bound with Grant’s yellow tie. “You never saw this before?”

  “Nope. Now can you please leave?”

  “What about this one?” She produced another photo. “Is that you?”

  “Just the thought of that grosses me out.” He tried to usher them toward the door, but Oliver pushed past toward a framed poster on the wall.

  “Bit of a Wizard of Oz fan?”

  “Yeah, so?” Grant rocked on his feet, shifting weight from one to the other, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Ever see one of those ties that looks like a yellow brick road?”

  “No, but it sounds cool. Will you please leave now?”

  Oliver brushed past him, looking around the apartment.

  “Excuse me? Where are you going?” Grant demanded and followed.

  “Mia, in here.”

  She reached the bedroom, a Wizard of Oz shrine complete with bedding, lamps, even a yellow brick wall border and carpet. Oliver pushed the sliding door of the closet and Grant pulled at his arm, like his scrawny body stood any chance of yanking him away.

  Rummaging through until he found a tie rack, Oliver pulled out a long strip of bright yellow silk. “So, you’ve never seen a yellow brick road tie before?”

  “Uh. That’s not mine.”

  Oliver exited the room to the hall and turned the doorknob of another door. Grant and Mia followed him out.

  “Get out of here now. Before I call the police.”

  “Yeah, do that,” Mia said. “I bet they’ll be real interested to see what we’ve found. I believe drugging someone is against the law.”

  Oliver walked into a bathroom, turned, and reached for another door.

  “Don’t go in there,” Grant yelled and immediately covered his mouth with his hand.

  Oliver pushed the door and flipped the light switch. One wall was completely covered with whips and gags, all kinds of BDSM toys hanging from hooks. In a corner was a video camera on a tripod. And in the center, a big four-poster bed, just like the one in the photo.

  Mia wanted to jump and squeal and throw her arms around Oliver. But her joy was interrupted by Grant pushing past her.

  “Grab him!” Oliver yelled.

  Mia ran after Grant, down the hall and into the living room. He reached the front door and got it open, but before he could slip out, she leapt at him, full force, crushing him against the door and slamming it shut.

  Oliver grabbed Grant’s arm and turned to Mia. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. That was pure adrenaline there.”

  Oliver pulled Grant to the couch and threw him down. “Talk.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a toddler. “You can’t make me.”

  “Oh, yes I can,” Mia said. Her adrenaline only fueled her anger. “Tell us everything, every last order my father gave you. Or that shiny yellow tie will be tied around you, but not your wrists.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Stop the dumb act,” Oliver insisted. “We know you were in the photos and they were obviously taken here.”

  “Fine, yes, it was me. Can’t a guy have a little fun? What I do in my personal life has nothing to do with you.”

  “It sure as hell does when you’re screwing one of my models and the photos end up on the Internet. How much did my father pay you to play the dumb card?”

  “What does any of this have to do with Mr. Montanari?”

  “He bribed you. I saw the car in the driveway. Don’t tell me you bought that.”

  “It’s part of my salary. He hired me last week as an accountant. When I answered the ad in the paper I didn’t even know it was for your dad.”

  “Yeah. Whatever. He never puts ads in the paper for employees. He found you and gave you a car, a job, and in return, do a little favor for him on the side.”

  “I work for your father, but I swear, only as an accountant.”

  “Liar!” Mia yelled and lunged at him, but Oliver caught her.

  “Your father knows nothing about my private life and he better not. If he finds out, he’ll fire me. You can’t let him see those.”

  “Nice try, playing the wounded party here. I’m sure he’s seen them. They’re everywhere.”

  “Fuck,” Grant mumbled.

  Mia just shook her head. “You are so good at playing dumb. But I’ll tell you one thing, you better stop posting those photos.”

  “Again, I didn’t do it. It must be the other guy.”

  “Why? That random guy has no reason to hate me, but you do.” She never would have thought the teasing she, Bryn, and Penny had done would lead to this, and she bet Grant would do just about anything to land a job where he didn’t have to put up with such things. Performing favors for her father was one way to secure one. Antonio Montonari liked having lackeys in his back pocket. “And now you’re the one with the connection to my father.”

  Oliver put his hand to the small of Mia’s back. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. We keep going in the same circle.”

  “I’ll get us somewhere. Let me kick him in the groin.”

  “It’s justified, but let’s not.” Oliver turned back to Grant. “Who’s the other guy?”

  “Just someone I met at the club. We fool around a lot.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Grant rolled his eyes. “Chris.”

  “Chris what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mia’s patience had vanished again. “You don’t take the time to ask last names before you sleep with someone?”

  “No. And you have no right to judge. You required job applicants to have sex with you.”

  Mia lunged again.

 
Oliver once again grabbed Mia and turned his glare on Grant. “Cut the shit, man, or next time I won’t stop her.”

  “Listen, I met up with Chris at the club. He introduced me to this hot guy and asked if we could go back to my place for a little fun. I sure as hell wasn’t saying no to that.”

  “Didn’t he look just a tad bit familiar?”

  “I guess. But it was dark and we were all a little drunk.”

  Mia rubbed her hands up her face and Oliver spoke. “How well do you know this Chris guy?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like we sit here and paint each other’s nails. We fuck and then he leaves.”

  Oliver looked at Mia. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

  “Are you kidding me right now? I don’t believe one word out of his mouth.”

  “We’ll try to find this Chris. Maybe he can lead us to who’s really behind it.”

  “I already know. No one else but my father wants my shop ruined. So if he didn’t use Grant directly, he sure as hell orchestrated it all indirectly.” Mia shook loose of Oliver’s arms and stalked toward the door. “I need to get out of here.”

  Mia opened the door and heard Oliver issue one last threat to Grant. “I know where to find you if I need more from you.”

  He came up behind and followed her to the car. She opened the passenger-side door and slumped into the leather seat, letting her head roll back. Oliver started the car and pulled away, saying nothing.

  How had this happened? Did her father really hate her this badly? The thought made her eyes tear. How had it come to this? She remembered being a little girl, when he was just a salesman working for someone else. Every once in a while she’d visit him at the dealership and he’d take her for a ride in a fancy convertible. He’d smiled at her from the driver’s seat and promised someday to buy her any car she wanted.

  How had their relationship changed so much? When did they morph into enemies instead of father and daughter? Knowing the famous Antonio Montanari as well as she did, she knew he wouldn’t stop until her business was destroyed. He’d done it many times with other car dealers. And he’d do it even with the knowledge that she would never work for him. He’d do it just because he could. Because she’d gone against his demands. Punishing her like he had when she was young and disobeyed.

  But if she didn’t work for him, how the hell would she support herself? Her failed business combined with her degree might get her a manager’s position at Vicky’s, the overpriced push-up bra factory. Mia cringed just thinking about it.

  She rubbed her eyes. “I need a drink.”

  “Want me to stop at a bar or something?”

  Had she said that out loud? “Um, no. That’s okay. I have a bottle of vodka at home. It will cost way too much to get drunk at a bar. And at this point, I need to save every penny I can.”

  Oliver parked around the corner near Mia’s building, the closest available spot.

  “You could’ve just dropped me in front.”

  “I know. I was hoping I could come up and have a drink, too.”

  Mia knew she should say no. Just go back to her apartment alone. But he had been so great. She owed him at least one drink. “Okay.”

  He turned off the engine and they got out. As they approached the main door, Mia saw someone sitting there on the stoop. The closer they got, she recognized the backpack and perfectly sculpted goatee and sideburns. Kyle.

  CHAPTER Twenty-Six

  Hey, Babe.” Kyle stood and reached out to Mia for a hug. “I called but it went straight to voicemail.”

  She let him hug her for two seconds before pulling away. “Oh. Sorry. Were we supposed to meet tonight?”

  “Hoarders marathon, remember?”

  “I’m so sorry. It’s been a hell of a day.”

  “No prob. We only missed the first hour.” He reached for her hand but she moved it and stepped back. “Something wrong?”

  “I’m tired and I just want this day to end.” Aside from the day of Johnny’s funeral, this had probably been the worst day of Mia’s life.

  “What happened?”

  “Uh, just some things at the shop. Some lewd photos of one of our models. We’re probably going to lose everything.”

  “Oh, yeah. I think I saw those pics today. Fuckin’ sucks.” He moved toward her, wicked grin. “I know how to make it all better. Let’s go up and I’ll give you a massage.”

  “Not tonight. I just want to be alone, okay?”

  “Then what’s this dude doing here?”

  She kind of forgot Oliver was there. “Oh, he drove me home. We were just gonna have a drink. Like I said, it’s been a really bad day.”

  “Fine. Whatever. You gonna drive me home first?”

  “Are you for real?” Oliver asked, contributing to the awkwardness.

  “This is none of your fuckin’ business, so step off.”

  Oh my God. I cannot deal with this. “Kyle, just go. Please. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “How am I gonna get home?”

  “Be a big boy and call a cab or take the bus.”

  He looked at Mia with what appeared to be sincere heartache behind his eyes. “Fine. But next time you need someone to hold your hand and kiss your ass, don’t fuckin’ call me.”

  Kyle stomped away. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. Add it to the list of things to go wrong that day.

  Mia led Oliver upstairs as she had that first night. It felt like a lifetime ago. She headed directly to the kitchen. She’d needed the drink before, but after the altercation with Kyle, even more so.

  Opening the fridge, she surveyed its contents. “I’ve got OJ and Pepsi. Which mixer would you like?”

  “Just some ice is fine.”

  Maybe straight up was the way to go. Mia just wanted to get drunk, and fast. She filled two small glasses with ice and topped them with raspberry vodka. She hoped Oliver wouldn’t mind. She capped the bottle and tucked it under her arm. Taking a glass in each hand, she joined him in the living room.

  Oliver held up his glass. “To nailing the bastard who did this.”

  “Hear! Hear!” She clinked her glass to his and sipped.

  Man, that burned! But she kept on sipping. They sat there like that, quiet, for a while. Oliver set his glass down and refilled, tipping the bottle toward Mia. She held her glass for him to fill.

  “So, were you sad to see your booty call go? I could have left and he stayed.”

  Mia rolled her eyes at his smirk. “Kyle is just a friend.”

  “Sure looked like more. He seemed crushed when you asked him to leave. I think he has a thing for you. Is it even legal for you to be with him, Mrs. Robinson?”

  Mia laughed and hit him with a decorative pillow. “He’s nineteen. If you must know, he was one of the other applicants for the modeling job.” She sipped again. “But let’s not talk about him. I just want to sit here and get drunk.”

  “Okay. Then I will sit here and get drunk with you.”

  Mia glanced at Oliver over the rim of her glass. God, he looked so hot. This was a bad idea. Oliver should not be in her apartment, especially not while she was drinking. It was a well-known fact that she got silly when she drank. And the last thing she needed was to lose her head with Oliver.

  OLIVER OPENED his eyes and discovered he was at ground level, Mia’s slipper only inches away. His empty glass was close by. This must be the view a small dog has of the world. He rolled to his back, his spine screaming in pain. His body was not used to sleeping on a hardwood floor.

  He sat up, head thumping and spinning. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the hard floor or the spinning head. A groan escaped his lips as he lowered himself back down.

  “That about sums it up.” Mia’s voice came from above him. “I’d ask how you slept, but I can assume it wasn’t well.”

  “Oh,
I slept like a baby, it’s the waking part that sucks.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, this couch is crazy lumpy.”

  “It’s gotta be better than this floor.”

  She giggled. “You said you’d be fine. Did it a million times in college.”

  “Yeah, obviously my body has become accustomed to a little more comfort over the last decade or so. And it can’t handle the drinking, either. I don’t know if I’ve ever woken up this bad.”

  How much had they drunk the night before? The vodka bottle was on the table on its side, so apparently they’d finished that. He vaguely remembered Mia bringing out some wine, too. It had been opened and in her fridge for a few weeks, but they drank it anyway.

  God, she’d been so sexy dancing around the apartment, stereo on full blast. Had he danced, too? Oh, no. Oliver searched his brain and procured a fuzzy memory of him spinning Mia around and breaking out some kind of wobbly moves himself.

  But her hands in his, her warmth radiating up his arms; that stuck out. He’d pulled her in and pushed her back away, some sort of swing dance, wishing he could just keep her in, pull her close, put his hands on her body instead. Cover her mouth and the rest of her with kisses. But even in his state of intoxication, he’d known it was not right. If she was ever going to forgive him, he needed to play it cool.

  “You’re not puking, so you can’t be that hungover.” Her statement pulled him back to the present.

  “True.” He glanced at the clock. Almost 11 a.m. “Shit. I’m late for work.”

  Oliver sat up too fast, head ready to take off into space like a spinning UFO. No way would he survive a day at the office with this raging hangover. He searched for his cell phone.

  “I think it might be in the fridge. I kinda sorta remember you getting some texts and you threw the phone in there so you wouldn’t hear it beep anymore.”

  “Why didn’t I just silence the ringer?” He turned to Mia. She still looked like a goddess, even the morning after some hard-core drinking.