“I can’t give you anything just yet. Give me a couple days,” she said. “By the time of the meeting, I should know more.”
“Is this why you wanted to change the date and time?” We had been set to meet tonight. She talked me into changing it, and I was actually good with that decision because River was still in the hospital, and I really wanted to be with him tonight.
“Partially,” she revealed. “Just...stay away from him, okay, Jolie? You have to trust me on this.”
I shook my head as my heart raced. The flood of regret and confusion surging through me was enough to make me sick at my stomach. I just wanted a low-key summer fling. I should have known better than to actually invest any emotion in this guy.
“Alright. I better get out of here. So Marcus already left for the day?” I scanned outside the glass walls of her office, searching for him in the fluorescent-lighted kitchen just outside. Tall metal shelves with flour, sugar, and other ingredients partially obstructed my view.
“He went to the gift shop to get some ibuprofen,” she told me. “He’s working late tonight.”
He wasn’t the only one feeling bad. “Okay. Thanks.”
“If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you tomorrow night at The Roost, okay?”
The Roost was where the secret employee meeting was going to be held. I needed to confirm with all the media outlets who were planning to cover my story. What no one knew besides Colleen was that it wasn’t a meeting to plan the agenda for the press conference. It was the actual press conference itself. It was a prime-time news slot, and it would be followed up with an employee strike at the park the next morning, at the same time the public would be asked to boycott until the Sweets agreed to our terms.
I was still ironing out the terms with Colleen and a few other park employees who were in our inner circle, but they included raises across the board, flex time for working parents, better and more affordable healthcare coverage, and an actual overtime rate.
My mind swirling with how much still needed to be done before the “meeting,” I decided to take a cue from Marcus and sneak into the gift shop for some painkillers as well. Though Ellie, the gift shop manager, wasn’t in the “inner circle,” she was definitely sympathetic to our cause and would be in attendance at the meeting. I’m sure she’d slip me a few pills if I texted her from the storeroom, the only place I could get while still in costume.
I said goodbye to Colleen and rushed back down the employee tunnel, taking a couple of turns till I arrived at the back door of the gift shop. I thought the door would be locked, but I found it just a little bit ajar, like someone had forgotten to close it the whole way.
“Ellie?” I called out into the dark space, but I didn’t hear anything, so I crossed the threshold and proceeded through a short hallway lined with shelves. I wasn’t sure where the light switch was, so I kept walking, coming to an abrupt stop when I heard some whispering.
I could tell the whispering was coming from the other side of the shelving unit, and when I raised up on my tiptoes, there was a space to look through to the other side. I had to raise my hand to my lips to stifle the sharp gasp that escaped when I saw Marcus and Ellie standing mere inches from each other.
Ellie had her hand on Marcus’s shoulder and reached out to run her fingers through his hair. I thought he’d flinch or back away, but no, he just stood there. There was a bit more whispering, which I couldn’t decipher, then he wrapped his arms around her waist and aligned his lips with hers. Next thing I knew, he was kissing her.
Kissing her! What the actual fuck?
I didn’t think I made a noise, but maybe I did inadvertently. He abruptly jerked away from her and said something else I couldn’t understand, though by that point in time, my heart was pounding so hard that the sound of blood whooshing through my ears was the only thing I could hear.
“See you then,” Ellie’s nasal voice filled the quiet room. Marcus nodded and turned to leave.
I guess I didn’t realize he would be coming back to the doorway where I was still standing. Duh.
“Jolie?”
Oh, shit. I turned and fled down the hall, hearing his footsteps behind me. It was nearly impossible to run in my heels, but I suddenly turned into a track star, hightailing it back to my dressing room like I was aiming for a gold medal at the Olympics.
I could hear his footsteps pounding into the concrete floor of the tunnel behind me, but I reached my dressing room door just as he was turning the corner. I slammed it shut, and seconds later, heavy fists began to pound against it.
I collapsed in the chair in the corner of my dressing room, fighting off the tears that were threatening to ruin my makeup. I was not going to cry over that asshole. I should have known he was a player. Colleen must have known about him and Ellie; that’s why she was trying to warn me. Maybe he said something to her about Ellie.
Fuck. I was glad I caught them, though. Better to find out now before I had invested any more of my time and energy in him. I had bigger fish to fry. That fucking bastard.
At least I’d managed to avoid having to talk to him.
But I didn’t get anything for my splitting headache.
Thirteen
Family dinners should never be this awkward. I was sitting across from my brother Carson and his wife, with Clem beside me and my parents at the ends of the table. I was waiting for my parents to grill me about what happened at work, but they were obviously going to postpone the grilling until Maureen had served the rest of the dishes. The potatoes came out steaming. The roast looked like perfection with its halo of carrots and asparagus artfully arranged around it, and the aroma from the basket of rolls wafted through the blue and white striped towel wrapped around it.
As soon as Maureen scurried back to the kitchen, my father’s eyes swung in my direction. He didn’t even have to say anything, he just stared at me. Finally, when I didn’t respond, my mother added, “Well?”
“Well, what?” I shrugged.
I’d been battling the angel on one shoulder and devil on the other for the better part of the afternoon. I couldn’t decide what to do, but I was fairly confident that I was screwed either way.
I could tell my parents about the meeting and who the organizers were, and they could nip it in the bud before it could happen. I had a location and a time, thanks to my little rendezvous with Ellie, and I could give up that information and save my inheritance. And, you know, prevent myself from becoming a homeless bum. Always a plus.
And collect my $25,000. I mean, that was part of the plan, no?
Or I could tell them to go to hell and let the Sweetopia employees have their little meeting to finalize their list of demands for their strike. It wasn’t as if my parents didn’t deserve everything they were being served.
I spent the part of the afternoon that wasn’t busy wrestling with the proverbial angel and demon doing some research in the company books. Colleen basically told me to get lost for the rest of the day; she didn’t want to see me. So I found a computer with wi-fi over in the arcade office. Buster said he didn’t mind if I fooled around on it. I concocted some sort of bullshit story for why I needed it, but I was actually hacking into a bunch of tax and banking info.
So, I might have been an art history junkie in college, but I happened to be a whiz with computers. Always have been. I didn’t see much of a reason to pursue it as a career because, hello, silver spoon and all that. So I picked something I was passionate about: art. But I could hack in and do some programming and other technical crap. I didn’t think my parents had any idea the extent of my abilities, or they probably would have put me to work on writing software programs for the park or creating databases or something. Ugh, that shit is so boring.
Anyway, everything Colleen, Buster, and Jolie had told me in the past few weeks was absolutely correct. Actually, it was even worse than they thought because it turned out my parents made a hell of a lot more money than even I imagined. And I had already known they were filthy stink
in’ rich.
Some of the assets were hidden in separate trust funds set up for my brothers and me, and my parents were constantly shifting money in there so they wouldn’t have to pay taxes on it. The three of us were their bouncing baby tax shelters.
I was shocked to discover an account with my name on it with over five mil in it.
FIVE MILLION DOLLARS!
And here they were trying to entice me with 25K. Hell, it was probably coming out of my own account that they’d been building since I was in elementary school. The deposits actually went back that far.
“Cyrus Anthony!” my mother yelled, startling me back to the dinner table where my brothers had both begun to dig into their meals.
My father sat clenching his fork in one hand and steadily sipping on what looked to be scotch with the other. He was looking increasingly stabby the longer I refrained from answering my mother.
“What?!” I thundered back at them.
“What did you find out today?” my mother asked, turning on a dime to make her voice pleasant and light, like we were enjoying a tea-time discussion about tending heirloom roses.
“Did you talk to Ms. Cox?” my father pressed. He shot a look over to my brother Clem, who raised his eyebrows at me in expectation.
I had not told either of my brothers of my financial discoveries today, nor did I plan to. No, that was a little nugget I planned to keep to myself.
“They’re meeting tomorrow night,” I filled everyone in. “At The Roost. Five PM.”
“And the organizers?” my father demanded in what was little more than a growl.
“Are you planning to fire them?” I questioned.
“First thing in the morning,” he bellowed.
“You know, some of your employees have families,” I countered. “Did you ever think about that?”
“What about my family?” My father’s eyes narrowed as he looked from me to my mother and then to each of my brothers. “I have to take care of my own family, you know. If my employees are having a hard time taking care of their families, maybe they should do what I did: work my ass off and start their own damn company. Then they can call their own shots and find out how fucking hard it is to succeed.”
I said nothing.
No one said anything, as a matter of fact.
“I expect you to hand over a list of names of everyone involved tomorrow by 8 AM,” he finally said, setting his fork down on his plate and placing his napkin on the table. Then he scooted his chair back and stomped off toward his office.
I was too keyed up to eat. I glanced at my mother, silently requesting her permission to be excused, and then I fled the dining room, not stopping until I was behind the wheel of my old beat-up truck. Marcus’s truck.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do now. I had managed to burn my bridge with Colleen, and then Jolie too. She probably wouldn’t believe my real reasons for kissing Ellie in the gift shop. Hell, she didn’t even know my real identity. It was beyond too late to fix that.
Or was it?
“I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could.”
My words became faster and softer as I tried to make myself sound like a train chugging off into the distance. I closed The Little Engine That Could and glanced down at River, who had fallen asleep already. His little dark head was nestled against the pillows, and he wore such an adorable look of innocence on his face. He truly looked like an angel.
I was glad I got to spend a few minutes with him tonight, though I was hoping we had longer together before he drifted off to sleep. All the drugs they were pumping him full of made him so tired. That and helping him with his homework the school sent over completely drained the poor kid.
Only a couple more days of this and he’d be back home. And after tomorrow night’s press conference, things would start returning to normal. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe I’d be famous, and River’s medical bill problems would be solved, and I’d be offered a role in the latest Hollywood blockbuster.
Hey, it didn’t hurt to dream.
I was going to stay with him a few minutes longer until I was sure he was sound asleep, and then I had to get to my appointment with Mr. Barry. I’d canceled last week, and he made it pretty clear if I continued to cancel, he was going to find a new Domme.
I needed the five hundred dollars a month he paid me. It made me sound like a horrible mother to leave my son in the hospital alone while I went to spank some old dude, but I was, in fact, doing it for that aforementioned son. For both of my sons, really.
I was wearing my usual BDSM attire, a black latex corset, under a loose-fitting dress. I’d have to put on my lace-up boots in the car. Getting into the corset by myself wasn’t really an option because I could never lace it tight enough. My mother always had to help me get ready before I left the house.
My life was complicated. And a little weird.
I stood up, taking one more look at River before turning toward the door. My blood began to boil when I saw a familiar dark head poking his way in.
“Marcus!” I had to stop myself before I screamed and risked waking River up. “What the—what are you doing here?” I did manage to keep myself from using the F word, but only barely.
“Jolie, we need to talk,” he said, pushing his way inside the small sterile room. He glanced around, his gaze falling on my son, who was hooked to a variety of tubes and monitors.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I fired back, crossing my arms over my breasts.
“Is this your son?”
I scoffed. “Yeah, one of the things I was going to tell you today after work, but you didn’t show up. Instead, I guess you chose to spend your time with that chick in the gift shop.”
“It’s not what you think,” he told me. “Nothing about me is what you think. That’s why we need to talk.”
“I have to go.” I began to walk toward the door. “That means you need to go too.”
“Where are you going?” He followed me out the door and down the hall.
“It’s none of your business,” I assured him as I pressed the elevator button. A nurse gave me a nasty glare as she passed, but I ignored her. I was sure all the nurses and doctors around here thought I was a tramp and a horrible mother, but I didn’t give a flying fuck what they thought. All I knew is that I was doing the damn best I could.
Marcus climbed into the elevator after me even though I was shooting daggers at him from my eyes. Then he followed me out the automatic hospital doors and all the way to my car. I didn’t say one single word to him the entire trek.
Finally, when we reached my car, I whirled around to face him. “I have to go. I have another commitment.” I sneered the last word more than I meant to.
He grabbed me by the waist, then he jerked his eyes up to meet mine. “What are you wearing under here? You’re still wearing your corset?” He peered into my car. “Where’s the rest of your costume?
My dress was all one piece, but I didn’t suppose he realized that. His eyes fell on the thigh-high black latex boots in my back seat and my black bag that carried all of my implements: whips, riding crops, restraints, paddles, etc. It was a veritable BDSM arsenal in there.
I was silent, waiting for him to start making some connections. Yeah, he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t as he appeared. This was why I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him in the first place. Between my sons and my dominatrix gig, there was just no room for a normal relationship with a normal guy. Even a hot Brit with a beard and glasses.
“Jolie, what’s going on?” His dark eyes bored into me as I unlocked my car door. It was so old that the key fob didn’t work anymore.
Once I unlocked all four doors, I reached into the back seat to grab my boots. I was running out of time to get to the dungeon where Mr. Barry was waiting for me. Still refusing to answer, I plopped myself down in the driver seat and took off my flip flops.
“Are you going to answer me?”
I glanced up at him and found a pleading look on his face, bordering on desperate. I huffed out a sigh. “I’m a professional Domme, okay? I have an appointment with a client.”
A groove between his eyebrows appeared as his gaze darted across my face, down to my boots and then back up again.
Well, I’d done it now. As if he wasn’t already put off by my having a sick child, I was sure my dominatrix gig would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. He wanted me to be The Red Velvet Queen, not Mistress Magenta.
But why did I care? It wasn’t like I had feelings for him—
Ugh.
I did have some feelings. Otherwise, why would it have stung so bad to see him kissing Ellie in the gift shop earlier today? Why would I care what he thought of my kids or my second job if I didn’t have some semblance of feelings for him?
“What time is your appointment?” he asked. Not at all what I was expecting him to say.
“It’s in fifteen minutes,” I answered. “And I can’t be late. I’m about to be fired.”
He looked off into the distance for a second before glancing back to me. “How much does he pay you?”
“What?” I laughed. “What difference does it make?”
He set his lips in a firm line as he drew in a deep breath, making his nostrils flare. “Whatever he pays you, I’ll pay you double if you just cancel your...whatever you call it...and have dinner with me.”
I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “What the fuck, Marcus? You think you can just buy my good graces after I caught you kissing another girl? I know it’s not like we’d agreed to exclusivity...but for fuck’s sake, you’re messing around with two women at work? Not very smart. Especially since she and I are friends.”
“Like I said, that wasn’t what it seemed. I was just trying to acquire some information—”
I didn’t respond to that. I was still trying to wrap my head around how I got into this situation. Oh, yeah, by thinking with my pussy instead of my brain. That’s how.
“Just tell me how much. I will give you double,” he reiterated.
Sugar & Spice (Spicetopia Book 1) Page 12
