by May Sage
It had been sent by Lexi the previous night, close to midnight.
*That* kind of club? What did that even mean? Because when she read it, it sounded like… well, that kind of club. The sexy kind. Strippers dangling down poles, and escorts wearing nothing walking around. Why would Lexi want to be in a place like that? And as for Bryant? Come on, it wasn’t like he had a hard time getting female attention…
Suddenly, Tori blushed, recalling his skills with the red rope. Now that she thought of it, that wasn’t the kind of thing someone just improvised in the heat of the moment. He had to have had practice tying women up. Plenty of it.
Oh.
So, they hadn’t just gone to a sex club, then… Lexi had meant *that* kind of club.
Bryant was into BDSM, for real. And, apparently, Lexi had let him take her to a sordid dungeon somewhere.
Tori had genuinely believed she’d been pissed at him the day they’d first met at work. It was nothing compared to what she felt now. Not just anger, but she was also hurt, feeling betrayed. She’d foolishly believed that they’d come to some sort of understanding; they worked relatively well together.
Her blood was boiling. She wanted to strangle him with her bare hands. Lexi? He’d gone after Lexi, her only friend at the office?
That wasn’t a coincidence. He was really playing with her, seeing how far he could push her before she snapped. And now, someone had been drawn into the crossfire.
Tell me you’re okay, she texted with trembling hands.
No immediate response. To be fair, it was six in the morning on a Sunday, and the woman had been up until god knows when doing god knows what with their freaking boss.
The morning passed at a snail’s pace. Tori dragged her ass out of bed, downed some cereal, while checking her phone. She went for a run, then checked her phone. Took a shower, then checked her phone.
Don’t forget, lunch at 2pm.
She groaned at the unwelcome message from the wrong recipient. And she would have loved to forget lunch with her mother, but no such luck.
It wasn’t until one, when she’d been just about to leave her apartment, that finally, finally, Lexi got back to her, confirming that she was fine. More than fine, judging by her response.
Okay? Honey, that was the best freaking place in the world. Like a Kinky Wonderland. Tomorrow, lunch time? I’ll spill.
Tori’s sanity was more or less restored, but the message did nothing to temper her ire towards the Office Wolf of Croft Advertising. Not one teeny, tiny wee bit.
She didn’t often agree to lunch with mommy dearest. Make that never, actually. But Sandra Brown always had some sort of leverage to ensure that people did her bidding.
“Hey, Nana,” Tori smiled with all her heart, dropping a kiss on her grandmother’s forehead. Wendy Brown pinched her cheeks, before pulling her into a warm hug.
They rarely saw each other, partially because Tori worked long hours, and Wendy’s care home was upstate, but mostly because Sandra made a point of picking Wendy up most weekends to ensure that Tori couldn’t go see her by herself on her days off.
Yes. Her mother was that bitch. Everyone knew it. Her father had known it, even when he’d married her, according to James.
There was no need to wonder why William Brown had married her, regardless of her character. At forty-five, Sandra looked like a young, raven haired Nicole Kidman, and she hadn’t even gone under the knife to achieve that. She was beautiful, she knew it, and she used that asset to get exactly what she wanted.
Although Tori wasn’t nearly as stunning, Sandra had attempted to get her daughter to do the same. She’d failed miserably…to her knowledge.
Tori would never, ever admit that she was using her mother’s methods at work. Despite her best efforts, when she’d started at Croft Advertising, she realized that she must have listened to all her lectures about holding herself right, and wearing things that said she was in charge, because it made people believe it. After deciding that she needed to gain the upper hand at work, becoming the ice queen everyone loved to hate was effortless; she practically heard her mother’s voice telling her what she should buy, how she should speak.
But as far as Sandra knew, she’d raised her opposite, and Tori intended to take her secret to the grave.
“You could have worn a dress, Victoria.”
Yes, she could have, but getting on Sandra’s nerves was one of those little pleasures she just couldn’t resist, so she’d come in Doc Martens, with tights, a pair of denim shorts, and an electric blue crop-top under her leather jacket. She rocked the outfit, but there was no doubt that it would have been more suited to an eighteen year old. Whatever.
“I don’t understand why you stick to that shade of lipstick, either. It’s rather vulgar, you know. Red, or pink, would be more suited to your complexion.”
“I think you look beautiful, pumpkin,” her grandmother said, patting the seat next to her. “Come, come. Tell me all about your week.”
Tori sat down, but her attention was directed elsewhere before she could start a chat with her grandmother.
She didn’t do it voluntarily, but her eyes narrowed as she glared at the man who’d entered the restaurant.
Tori suspiciously eyed their table. It was only then that she noticed it had been set for five, rather than just the three of them.
“Mother?”
“You know I prefer you call me Sandra, Victoria.”
Yes, she was well aware of that. Hence, why she stuck to ‘Mother’.
“Did you, by any chance, invite Bryant Parker?”
“Hm? Oh, yes, I almost forgot. He’s changed his name, hasn’t he? Well,” she said, as the maitre d’ led Bryant in their direction, “I did ask James if he’d care to join us, and he accepted, on his behalf, as well as his brother’s. Do try to behave, dear. The man is worth a fortune. You know he’s inheriting all of…”
She kicked Sandra under the table. Hard.
“Bryant,” Tori said pointedly, turning to the unwelcome hunk who’d just made it to their table. She was smiling; not even a fake smile, because right now, she was imagining stabbing him with her fork. With a bit of luck, she’d have an opportunity to actually do just that before dessert. “What a surprise.”
It really shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t the first time that Sandra had cornered her with an eligible man. She wasn’t even all that subtle about it. As far as her mother was concerned, Tori didn’t amount to anything, and she never would until there was a ring on her finger, and the ring had to belong to a man Sandra approved of.
“Tori. You look…” her fists clenched around her cutlery as he eyed her up and down, amusement evident on his features. Damn him.
Of course he had to see her like this, without the clothes she wore as armor.
He must have valued his balls, because, instead of criticizing her, he simply settled on, “Different.”
“Well, I’m glad to know Victoria doesn’t embarrass herself with these ridiculous clothes at work,” Sandra said, raising her hand. “Sandra Brown.”
“Enchanted,” Bryant said, taking her mother’s hand, and kissing the back of it like the tool he was.
Tori needed out of here. Seriously. This wouldn’t end well. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to castrate him for going after Lexi, and her mother was going to try to throw her at him. She’d present her like a show pony, listing the many reasons why she was an ideal wife.
“Nana, I’d love to stay, but I’ve had a migraine all morning. I wanted to stop by and say hello, but I really ought to go lie down.”
Because if she didn’t, she might end the night in jail, would it be for matricide, or bossicide. Yes, that probably wasn’t a word, but it should be.
“Nonsense, I’m sure it’s just a little headache. It will pass,” Sandra dictated, like saying it would make it so.
And, okay, her fictitious migraine would certainly pass, but she’d said the same back when Tori had the flu.
“Pretty
certain it won’t. Enjoy the food, Mother. Say hi to James for me. Tell him I’ll see him at the benefit next week.”
She held on to her grandmother, squeezing her hard, and doing her best to tune out Sandra, who was telling her what she should wear at said benefit. Then she grabbed the coat she’d just put down at the back of her chair and got the hell out of there without looking back.
11
Change of Plan
Bryant was used to Tori being pissed at him. It kind of was her default setting, as far as he was concerned. This felt different, though. The last look she’d sent him before running out of there? It wasn’t just annoyance he read there. She was hurt. Further proof that something was wrong: she normally didn’t avoid him. Sure, she glared a lot, frowned, and ignored most of his niceties, but her just leaving was new.
Her running out wasn’t the only thing he hadn’t expected, when James had called him to ask if he’d fancy lunch with the Browns. Arriving at Le Bernardin, he wasn’t surprised. This was exactly the kind of place where he would have thought Tori’s affluent family would eat on a Sunday. Posh, French, exclusive, probably with a long waiting list when you didn’t know someone who knew someone.
So, he’d pegged the venue right. He’d pegged the mother right: pearls, lace, the works. She was a MILF and then some, more striking than any other woman he could think of off the top of his head, except for Tori, who seemed to be a younger carbon copy of her mother, only with warmer eyes and a more stunning smile.
The grandmother seemed friendlier than he would have thought: an older woman with laugh lines and kind brown eyes, like Tori’s, and unlike Sandra’s.
What had come as a complete shock was Tori herself. He’d expected to see her in Louboutins again. He’d expected a cocktail dress, maybe diamond earrings, or something of the sort. Instead, he got what he imagined was the real Tori Brown. The one no one at the office was privy to. Messy bun, boots, sexy, and edgy, casual clothing. She’d turned his head the first time he saw her, she’d imprinted herself on his mind when he took her to bed, but all the way, from the beginning until now, Bryant had fought against their connection.
The Tori he’d met, the Tori he’d fucked, the Tori he saw every weekday at work, was another Naomi. A cold, professional woman focused on her goals, someone who wanted, needed, to be perfect at all times. Someone who’d never admit anything was her fault. He’d wanted her despite the issues it could cause at work, and he’d refused to acknowledge that, because he thought he’d known her for what she was…
But Naomi didn’t own denim. She’d cut her feet off rather than putting them in Doc Martens. Naomi didn’t hug her grandmother like this. She air-kissed her, to make sure her makeup didn’t smudge. He’d read Tori wrong.
Bryant couldn’t stop himself, he was on his feet, rushing after her before she’d made it halfway through the room.
“Tori!”
The woman turned to him, crossed her arms, and barked, “What?”
Fuck. She really was pissed. That Tuesday, during their team meeting, he’d actually seen her flash a smile at one of his jokes. Friday, she’d replied, “Good weekend,” when he’d said ’bye. He’d been winning her over, very, very slowly.
Right now, they weren’t just back to the level of animosity she’d shown on day one - this was worse.
Suddenly, he knew why.
Fuck.
Lexi.
“She texted you.”
Holy shit. No wonder she was pissed. Bryant inwardly grunted. How was he going to get out of the dog house after that?
“Look, I can explain and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.”
Tori chuckled, shaking her head, and turned on her heels without a word.
“Oh, come on, Tori, just listen…”
“Why are you even trying?” she yelled back, still walking away as quickly as her legs could carry her.
He followed her, unable to stop himself.
“Because this misunderstanding is visibly pissing you off,” he replied logically. “Which could make things awkward between us at work. Given the fact that I’m your direct superior, we wouldn’t want that.”
That most definitely wasn’t why he was chasing her outside of the restaurant, making a scene and not caring about it at all, but he was confident that answer would get her attention.
She stopped to hail a cab, and the damn driver immediately stopped, considerably shortening the amount of time he had to make her stop hating his guts.
“Tori, I haven’t touched Lexi. I wouldn’t touch Lexi. I met her at a place that wasn’t safe, and I decided to show her a better one. That’s it.”
Finally, finally, her brown eyes met his.
“It’s none of my business, Bryant.”
Oh, but it was. He knew it. She knew it. She wouldn’t have been nearly as angry if she didn’t think of him as hers.
This was his crossroad. He could leave it at that, thereby ensuring that she continued to hate him for the rest of their acquaintance, or he could do something about it. Explaining about The Tower would have taken less than thirty seconds. He could do it right now.
Instead, he told her, “Next weekend, after the benefit. Give me two hours, then you can make your mind up. Then you can decide to hate my guts, if you wish - but you’ll have all the facts, at least.”
She could have said no. She could have said she didn’t need to get to know him.
But she nodded her head, before getting in the cab.
“Hey, Tori?” he called just before she closed the door.
She lifted a brow.
“You look like a goddamn rock star today.”
She blushed, although she did roll her eyes.
“Are you physically able to stop yourself from flirting, Parker?” she asked as the cab pulled away.
With her? Never.
12
Lunchtime Tale
Could she plead insanity? That seemed like the only explanation as to why she’d somehow agreed to Bryant’s proposal. Why would she want to go anywhere with him? Lexi would just tell her what had occurred and she could make up her own damn mind as to how pissed off she had to be. He’d hypnotized her again with those magic eyes and although her brain was screaming ‘no’, she’d somehow ended up nodding her agreement.
A part of her called bullshit. She’d agreed because she wanted to believe him. She wanted him to make it abundantly clear that he wasn’t going to sniff around Lexi…or anyone.
Tori cursed herself. So, yes, they’d had sex. Great sex. That didn’t explain why she was still so affected by him, though. Sure, he was pretty enough to look at, but from the very start, she’d pegged him as the kind of man she couldn’t imagine anything long term with. She recalled his clinically clean apartment, and swept her place in one glance. She had a cleaner come in once a week, and she wasn’t a complete heathen, but there was an empty cup of coffee from the previous day on a table in the living room, she’d left her plate and cutlery from the previous night in the sink. There was a throw sitting on her favorite beat-up sofa, along with about half a dozen colorful cushions. She mentally imagined Bryant walking in, and cringed. What would she do with him? Where would she put him and his perfectly crisp suits?
He didn’t fit in her life. She frowned, wondering if that was the reason why she pushed him away so much. She couldn’t really have him, so she preferred if he stayed completely out of her life.
Well, that was dumb, and immature, too. The man couldn’t and wouldn’t just disappear. He was James’ brother, and he was the CEO of Croft Advertising. She resolved there and then that if he really wasn’t trying to get Lexi into some weird shit, she’d stop behaving like a high-schooler and attempt to get along with him.
It was in that state of mind that she listened to Lexi the next day.
They met up at a sushi bar, although it meant that she was going to have to grab a snack in the middle of the afternoon; regardless of how many sushi she ate, she was always starving a couple of
hours after lunch. Still, completely worth it.
“I’m really sorry about texting you this weekend. I just don’t have that many friends in town, and no one back home would have known who I was talking about if I told them I was going somewhere with Bryant Parker. Then, they would have googled him, and assumed things, and asked questions…”
Tori didn’t say that while she’d had no need to google anything, she’d certainly assumed things and she sure as fuck wanted to ask questions.
“I get it,” Tori nodded. “I’m glad you texted. If there’s a next time, though, just let me know you get home safe, too. I mean, I’m not your mother, but if you text me…”
Lexi cringed. “Sorry. Totally should have thought of confirming I was okay after something like that. But, by the time I went home, I was on cloud nine - it completely escaped my mind.”
Tori nodded. Then, an annoying silence stretched.
Fuck this. She needed to know, and Lexi had promised to spill. “So…how was it?”
Lexi beamed. “You can’t even begin to imagine, Tori. I mean… okay, so you know about BDSM, right?”
Tori froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve seen movies, and read some books, I guess…”
And she’d also been tied up and fucked into oblivion, but that was the extent of it.
“Exactly. I read super sexy books, and I got curious. Back home, I never did anything about it, because, well, it was a pretty small town, so that wasn’t an option - but when I arrived in NYC, I started researching clubs.”
Lexi was glancing at her from the corner of her eyes, as if trying to read her reaction. Tori did her best to smile encouragingly.
“Go on?”
“There are group chats, and everyone said the club I tried this weekend was the best; it seemed safe enough. I liked it. I mean, the ambiance was incredible. I can’t say I found anyone I wanted to…do things with, though. There were three guys trying to pick me up, and not really getting my polite ‘no’. I mean, they weren’t creeping me out, but they weren’t leaving me alone, either. I was just about to actually say thanks, but no thanks, when I saw Bryant.”
