“Oh.” No wonder he didn’t believe me when I told him I had a good time. “You didn’t pressure me,” I tell him firmly. “It was my fantasy. I wanted it. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”
“Forget that,” he interrupts. “That’s in the past. Do you want to do it again?”
Yes. The reply is immediate and instinctive. Only a faint stirring of common sense keeps me from blurting out my assent. “Really?”
“Do you only have one fantasy to explore?” he teases. Hunter’s giving him a strange look, but he ignores it. “Disappointing.”
“I have plenty of fantasies, thank you very much.” Temptation dances in front of me. I feel like I’ve been tightly bottled up my life, and now I’m ready to explode. And I do trust them with my desires. “Are you volunteering?”
Hunter glances at Eric and then at me. “Dixie’s Fantasy Fulfillment,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That has a certain ring about it, doesn’t it?” His expression turns serious. “If we’re going to do this, we should make sure we have the same expectations going in.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he clarifies. “I don’t have the mental space for it.”
“Me neither,” I say resolutely, ignoring the tiny pang in my heart at his words. “Work is crazy right now, and I’m angling for a promotion. My career is the priority.”
“But,” Hunter continues. “Casual or not, I don’t sleep around. As long as we’re doing this thing, I’d like it to be just the three of us. If the situation changes, if you meet someone you want to be with, we’ll end this. No hard feelings.”
I glance at Eric, who nods in assent. “I’m good with that. Dixie?”
Somebody pinch me. “Me too. On one condition.” I feel my face flame as they wait for me to continue. “I don’t want this just to be about my fantasies. You probably have some, right? I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience, and you guys have probably done everything, so maybe you don’t have any unfulfilled fantasies. But if you do, I’m open to trying new things.” William took far too many years from me. For far too long, I’ve repressed my desires and buried my feelings.
No more.
Hunter beckons me closer. I scoot over, and he wraps an arm around my waist. “I think it’s safe to say I have plenty of fantasies,” he murmurs. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Eric replies.
“Me three.” I blush once again. I’ve actually agreed to have a no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits arrangement with two men. This is so not me.
Or maybe it’s the truest version of me, the version I’ve kept under wraps all my life.
I half-expect us to fool around some more, but they leave shortly after that, and I’m secretly relieved. This arrangement is a big step for me. I need a few hours for it to sink in, and I think they sense it.
Hira texts me a few minutes after they leave. ‘Should I call 911, or are you back home?’
Crap, I totally forgot to check in with her. ‘I’m back home,’ I type out hastily.
‘And?’
‘It went great.’ I smile widely. ‘Really great.’
I haven’t felt like this in a really long time. Breathless with anticipation, giddy with joy. I want to laugh and dance and giggle.
‘You go, girl!’ comes the immediate reply. ‘I want all the deets Monday.’
Yikes. Xavier hadn’t looked thrilled when Eric told him we were going to sleep together, and he’d been talking about a one-time thing.
Hira’s the Head of HR. Eric and I work together. What is she going to think?
It’s just sex, I tell myself. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not a big deal.
The joy inside me deflates. This is going to get complicated.
21
Eric
I should stay away from Dixie—I know I should. What do I do instead? I ask her about her fantasies. I suggest we sleep together again.
I’m a fucking idiot.
Aren’t you being unfair? Dixie isn’t Cici.
No. Dixie Ketcham is very different from my ex-girlfriend—she’d made that clear with her actions. Cici would have never examined her feelings the way Dixie had; introspection wasn’t really her thing. She wouldn’t have apologized. She would have never reached out to me to explain why she’d reacted the way she had.
Dixie had.
I don’t want this just to be about my fantasies, she’d said. You probably have some, right? If you do, I’m open to trying new things.
Fuck. She’d said that, and all of my caution fled out the window. But in the cold, clear light of day, things look different. I worry that I’m making a mistake. I want to cancel the arrangement, but somehow, even though I know better, I can't make myself pull the plug.
Dixie’s smart and self-aware, and I’m thinking about her way more than I should be. To paraphrase a very old song, I’ve got Dixie on my mind.
It’s not like me to be irrational about a woman.
This is casual sex. Don’t get your feelings involved. Nothing good will come of it.
I can’t go into the office on Monday—I have a client emergency. Phoebe Duval, whose portfolio I’ve managed for almost a decade, calls me Sunday night and tells me she’s tired of the rat race, and she’s planning to move to a remote island in the middle of the Indian Ocean. “I need to liquidate my assets,” she announces. “How long will it take for you to sell everything?”
It takes three full days, and I have to head back to the city to do it. I haven’t slept in my own bed in two weeks, and I should be delighted to be home, but my condo—a lovely, sun-filled penthouse in Astoria—feels like it belongs to someone else. When I open the refrigerator, the milk is curdled, and my two-week-old Chinese leftovers look like a science experiment gone wrong.
I don’t get back to Leforte’s offices until Thursday afternoon. I walk past Dixie’s office, but she’s not there. I start to wonder where she is, realize I’m thinking about her again, and determinedly push her out of my mind. There’s a stack of paperwork on my desk. I work my way through the documents, mostly contracts that have been approved by Legal and need my signature. Dixie’s team has been busy. I go through them as quickly as possible and then open my laptop and pull up the file I’m building on Xavier’s mysterious enemy.
The Unplug transactions are only the tip of the iceberg. There are at least another dozen suspicious transfers. Thanks to Pierre’s incompetence, the record-keeping is a mess, and it’s almost impossible to track down who approved what. I’ve left messages for Valade, but he’s dodging my calls, which is infuriating.
Do I think Pierre Valade is trying to frame Xavier? No, I don’t. As much as I dislike the man, the explanation is probably far less sinister. Valade left things in a complete mess, and he’s avoiding me because he doesn’t want to be reminded about how badly he fucked things up.
But he isn’t blameless either. There’s no doubt that his inattention allowed someone more malicious to take advantage.
Brody calls me shortly after six. “Do you want the bad news or the terrible news?” he asks wearily.
I rub my temples. “Tell me.”
“My people aren’t getting anywhere,” he says. “Xavier owns a lot of companies. Each of them has their own processes, their own accounting systems, their own record-keeping. My analysts are going to take weeks, if not months, to get up to speed.”
I was afraid he was going to say that. “That’s not good.” Someone knocks at my door. I look up. It’s Xavier. I wave him in and put Brody on the speaker. “Xavier just walked in,” I tell him.
“Good, that saves me a phone call. Xavier, I was just telling Eric that we’re getting nowhere with this. Your business is pretty convoluted, and each of your subsidiary companies has a different way of doing things. Given enough time, my team is capable of getting to the bottom of this, but—”
“We don’t have time,” I interrupt. “This situation could blow up any moment now.”
Xavier leans forward. “You’re telling me that we need someone who knows my business, not an outsider?”
“That would be my recommendation,” Brody replies. “How about Dixie Ketcham? She’s smart, she’s extremely trustworthy, and she’s been at Leforte long enough that she’s up to speed. She’d be perfect.”
Xavier gives me a meaningful look. “Thank you, Brody. I’ll discuss this with Eric.”
“Sure. I’ll have my team produce a summary of everything they’ve found. You’ll have that Monday.”
Brody hangs up. Xavier clears his throat. “What?” I ask him defensively.
“You’re not an idiot; you don’t need Brody to tell you to bring Dixie in. I suggested it last Friday, and you waved me off. And then, the same evening, you told me you were going to roleplay with her.” He stares at me. “Which is a terrible idea for a bunch of reasons, but specifically catastrophic given your history. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on. It was… good.” It was hot as hell, and I’ve jerked off to my memories all week, but I’m not about to tell him that. I run my hand through my hair. “We’re going to do it again.”
He gives me another searching look. “Is that wise?”
“If you’re asking me if I can remain impartial about helping you pick a COO—”
“That’s not my primary concern.”
“It isn’t?”
His gaze softens. “Eric, give me a break. With or without your input, I’ll pick someone. The business will survive. I’m concerned about you. After Cecelia—”
“I told her about Cici,” I interrupt. “Besides, this isn’t the same situation. I’m not looking to date Dixie. It’s casual.”
A look of surprise flashes over Xavier’s face. “You told Dixie about what happened between you and Cecelia?”
“It came up,” I respond shortly, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “Look, can we get back to your issues?”
There’s a long pause, and then he shrugs. “Fine. If it’s casual, like you say it is, and you’re not avoiding spending time with Dixie, then there’s no reason not to ask her for help. You remember the transactions I was telling you about, the Bangkok ones that Pierre routed through one of my businesses?”
“The money you were sending Layla?” No matter how incompetent Pierre might have been, that mistake is the real reason Xavier finally fired him.
“Yes. Dixie found those transactions yesterday. She thought I was bribing someone. She confronted me about it.” He smiles ruefully. “She took me by surprise. I’m afraid I was rather short with her.”
He leans forward. “I like Dixie. She’s ethical, and she’s not afraid to stand up for what she believes. Get her to help you.”
“Fine, fine.” I hold up my hands. The closer I work with Dixie, the deeper I’m going to get sucked in. The more I’m going to start falling for her, and the harder it will be to move on when this is over. But Brody and Xavier are right about how smart she is. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
22
Dixie
I have a strange, up-and-down week.
On Monday, Eric’s not in, and I find out he won’t be for a few days, which makes me feel strangely disappointed. The rest of the day is typical. John walks into my office, pretending like he hadn’t insulted me on Friday, and tells me Kevin’s drawing up a new contract. Kevin sends me a passive-aggressive email accusing me of sabotaging his business. I ignore both of them and concentrate on the pile of work in front of me.
The work carries me through Tuesday and Wednesday. And then everything goes to hell on Thursday. The morning goes well enough, but in the afternoon, I manage to completely piss off Xavier Leforte.
It’s not intentional. I’m tracking down some details about SKR Trading, a Thai subsidiary of Leforte, when I spot a series of suspicious transactions, There are seven payments, one every month, starting in January and ending in July, each for two-hundred-thousand dollars. One-point-four million dollars in total.
That’s a lot of money, and if that wasn’t suspicious enough, at the end of July, Xavier personally wired SKR Trading one-point-four million dollars.
To cover the shortfall?
There are probably a dozen reasons why Xavier reimbursed SKR Trading, but the problem is, most of them are illegal. What is he doing?
According to Xavier’s calendar, he’s not in today, but I call Elisa and find out he’s at the castle. I need to ask him about these transactions, and this isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone. So, I drive over.
Henri greets me at the entrance and walks me up. Xavier looks up when I knock on his office door, and his face cracks into a smile. “Dixie, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He waves me in and gestures to a seat. “What can I do for you?”
I shuffle my feet. “This is an awkward conversation.”
He gestures at me to sit, and then leans back in his chair and folds his hands across his chest. “About Eric?”
“What?” I blink, flustered. “No. I came about these transactions.” I put the sheets of paper in front of him. “SKR Trading paid someone two-hundred-thousand dollars a month for seven months, starting in January and ending in July. At the end of July, you wrote them a check for one-point-four million dollars. The same amount of money.”
Xavier’s face is expressionless. “Hmm.”
That’s not a promising reaction. I lean forward. “Xavier, bribery is illegal. American law is very clear about this. It doesn’t matter if the transactions took place outside the United States.”
He looks up. “I’m not bribing anyone.”
There is a warning in his tone, but as much as I want to drop the matter, I cannot. “Xavier, as your Corporate Counsel, I have to warn you that—”
He holds up his hand to stop me. “Dixie, you're like a damn bulldog,” he snaps. “This is a private matter. Let it go.” He gets to his feet. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have something I need to attend to.”
I get to my feet, stunned. I’ve just got kicked out of my boss’ office.
On my way out, I spot Kiera, who’s working in the cafe. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I accuse her. I’m still feeling shell-shocked. I’ve been working at Leforte Enterprises since February. I’ve never once seen Xavier lose his calm.
If you’d known what his reaction would have been, what would you have done?
Nothing different. Xavier gave me a very generous sign-on bonus when I started, and my salary is more than adequate, but I’m not going to break the law for him. Professional ethics matter. Doing the right thing is important.
Kiera’s finishing up a shift at the cafe. I wait until she’s done, and then the two of us get lemonade on the patio. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I tell her. “What’s going on with you?”
It turns out that Kiera is having guy problems. She’s having a crisis of confidence about Nolan and Caleb, which seems ridiculous, because they’re obviously nuts about her. I focus on her troubles as a way to avoid mine, offer her some unsolicited advice, and when she asks me what’s going on between me and Eric and Hunter, I lie and tell her they annoy me.
Xavier finds me before I have a chance to escape. “I owe you an apology,” he says, a little stiffly. “I was rude.”
I don’t know how to reply. He was rude, but he’s also my boss, and I did just accuse him of bribery. I make a joke about how a bottle of champagne will soothe my feelings, but Xavier takes me seriously and has Henri fetch a bottle from his personal cellar.
Apology or not, I’m pretty sure I’ve blown my chances. So much for getting the COO job.
I determinedly try not to think about work on my drive back home. Instead, I go over my conversation with Kiera. I lied to my friend about Eric and Hunter. I didn’t tell her about the fantasy they fulfilled, and I didn’t tell her about our arrangement. Nope, I left all of that out.
I don’t like lying to my friends, and there’s no reason not to tell Kiera t
he truth. Why don’t I? I ask myself that question and I don’t like the answer.
I was in a threesome Saturday night. Sure, we might not have gone all the way, but that’s a technicality. I was naked in the back seat of a car, and they were clothed. Hunter thrust his fingers inside me and made me orgasm while I sucked Eric’s cock, and then Eric ate me out while I went down on Hunter.
It should have felt dirty and sleazy, but it hadn’t. I liked it so much I’m doing it again. (Though I don’t know when. Neither Hunter nor Eric has texted me with plans, and I’m trying—unsuccessfully—not to fret about it.)
Whether I’m ready to admit it to myself or not, I’m now the kind of woman that does threesomes. Mrs. Grace would probably call me a Jezebel. My mother would definitely disapprove. What would my brother Michael think? Jessica? I very much doubt they’ll be ecstatic or even accepting. Would they stop me from visiting Jonathan and Dylan?
This is casual, remember? Nobody has to know.
Still, there’s no reason not to confide in my friends. None of them are strangers to unconventional lifestyles. They won’t judge me; they’ll be supportive.
Yet I keep quiet. Because it turns out that despite my bravado Saturday night, those throwaway words that my ex-fiancé William had flung my direction still have power over me. I’m ashamed of my desires. Society doesn’t need to judge me—I’m judging myself.
Lying to Kiera isn’t the only horrible thing I do that week. I know I should go to HR and tell them that I’m seeing Eric. Eric and I are technically peers, and sleeping with him isn’t a violation of company policy (I checked), but I do have to disclose it.
But HR isn’t an anonymous, faceless division. The head of HR is Hira. Who is my friend. Who knows about my ‘date’ Saturday night. She’ll be curious about the details. When she figures out that Eric was involved, she’ll be even more thirsty for gossip. And if she finds out that Eric was only one of the two guys there?
Daring Dixie Page 13
