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Introduction:

Marcus has his house party and things start to heat up.

Friday, 11:29 am

It was the first time I’d stepped foot in my gym. “Jesus, this is a lot of space!” I said.

“It better be,” Erin said. “It’s one of the largest rooms in the apartment.”

“Yeah,” Tara said, her hands on her hips as she spun in a slow circle and took it all in. “Reckon it’ll do nicely.”

While she was distracted, I took the opportunity to check her out and appreciated the fact that Erin had done it again.

Tara Gellar was stunning. There wasn’t another word for it. She was Caucasian but had a soft, golden complexion that suggested she’d recently had some sun. Her almond-shaped eyes were a mesmerizing multi-toned hazel - a mixture of blues, greys, and browns that reminded me of a roiling ocean. She had a perfect Greek nose, with a slight upturn at the end, and her cupid’s bow-shaped lips were perfect - neither too big nor too small, and a softly defined jawline set above a slender neck.

Any of the ladies in my life could have walked the runway, but this was different. At 5’8” and with her classically beautiful, good looks and sleek build, Tara could have been picked up as a Victoria’s Secret model or in makeup commercials. The luscious mane of brown hair spilling down her back in gentle waves and gently applied makeup made her seem more unattainable. There was no way this girl was single. Jesus Christ… Erin had better not have sent me another beautiful woman who was already taken! Was she telling me my dance card was getting a little full?

Tara wore tight jeans and a well-fitting T-shirt that said ‘Running late is my cardio’ across her chest. The hem stopped just short of the waist of her jeans, displaying two inches of tantalizing, sun-kissed skin. I suspected her entire ensemble was ***********ed to ensure I knew how fit she was without being too obvious about what she was doing.

I couldn’t blame her. Erin had given me a brief backstory of the woman. She was from Australia and had moved to Los Angeles about two years ago after networking with a veteran B-list actor working on a project in the land down under. He convinced her to move to LA and train with him, claiming he could connect her with others belonging to the Hollywood elite. She’d done well for herself, attracting a few other clients, but had hit a wall in her progress. She was pulling in roughly $150,000 a year, which was decent, even in Los Angeles, but it didn’t leave much wiggle room for savings and business growth.

My personal trainer would start at $500,000 annually with paid insurance, a paid-for apartment in a high-end residential space, and all utilities paid. Her commute was almost non-existent. On top of that, Erin had arranged to fly her out here on my dime - first class - and put her in a nice hotel while she was here. It was a massive jump for someone like her, and I imagined she was salivating the entire flight.

However, if she was desperate, she wasn’t showing it. From the moment we met, she seemed at ease. She had an easy smile, and nothing in her posture gave me the impression that she was nervous, which impressed me. I would have been a wreck if I’d been in her shoes.

“So, what’s your first impression so far?” I asked.

“Would I be able to get some different equipment here?” Tara said, turning to look at me. It seemed like my heart skipped a beat every time she did that. It didn’t make things easier that her accent made her seem even more sexy.

“Why? Does the equipment suck?” I asked.

“No,” she said in that very Australian way, “there’s just a few pieces missing, is all.”

“Oh. Yeah. You can purchase whatever you think we need,” I said.

We weren’t the only ones in the gym. Chloe had been on the treadmill when we entered and was currently leaning against the wall, silently watching the conversation. Her tight lycra pants and sports bra showed off her toned stomach, and her arms were crossed over her chest. The sheen of sweat covering her light, freckled skin enhanced her tone.

Having arranged the entire thing, Erin was also present and seemed to get along well with my potential trainer. Then there was Bobbi, who had not said a word over the last twenty minutes that Tara had been here. I’d insisted that she hang around at least long enough for introductions. Considering she would no longer have a job, she would likely spend most of her time around the apartment. Bobbi was in great shape, and I wanted her to stay that way, so my personal trainer would be spending just as much time with her as with me.

Tara glanced at Erin, at Bobbi - especially the collar, which was currently blank, and then back at me.

“Not gonna lie,” she said. “I’m interested. It’s a lot of money and some really nice perks. I think we get on well, too.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I agree. You come highly recommended, and Erin says you check off all the boxes. Having seven years in Muay Thai is a big plus. The job is yours if you want it.”

She smiled, not looking surprised but definitely pleased. “Thanks. There’s just a couple of issues. First, my visa’s coming up for renewal soon.”

“You take the job,” I said, “and you won’t have to worry about that. I have a team of lawyers that can help you, and I’ll cover all the expenses.”

“Well, that was easy enough.”

“What’s the other?”

She hesitated, glanced at Erin and Bobbi, then said, “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”

“Sure. You guys mind?”

Erin and Bobbi moved to leave, but Chloe didn’t move.

“I hope it’s okay if my bodyguard stays behind,” I said as Erin shut the door behind her.

“Eh… I guess so,” Tara said. “So, I appreciate the opportunity, but there’s something you should know before we close on this.” She took a moment to continue, and my imagination ran wild with possibilities. Was she about to tell me how her relationship status was ‘It’s Complicated?’ Was she secretly a man? My long-lost sister? My life had become crazy enough that I wasn’t ready to take any possibility off the table.

“I know what’s going on here.” She gave Chloe an apologetic look before continuing, “Erin… Bobbi… you’re sleeping with these women.” She paused, giving me a moment to respond. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, and her hesitance appeared more for Chloe’s sake than mine. Like Chloe, this woman was direct, but unlike my bodyguard, she seemed to have a bit more of an opinion on the nature of my relationship with the ladies.

When I didn’t respond, she moved on. “That’s not what this is going to be.”

Well, there went my dreams of having my hot personal trainer scream at me while I finished my third set of bench presses and then strip down for some hot, sweaty, after-workout sex. To say I wasn’t disappointed would have been wrong. Being as hot as Tara should be illegal, but it wasn’t like I was starving for female companionship.

I decided it didn’t matter. Even if sex wasn’t on the table, I still liked her and thought she would make an excellent addition to the team. “That’s fine,” I said.

She stared at me for a long moment, and I realized I didn’t feel nearly as awkward as I might have a few weeks ago. Old Marcus might have felt shame at essentially being called out for having sex with the women he hired, but that was becoming a thing of the past after having to explain myself to Emily. Being confronted by a woman looking for a job was infinitely less embarrassing than having to talk about the details of my complicated sex life with my sister. Especially after catching her fucking one of the women who was part of my sex life.

“Just out of curiosity,” I said, “and feel free not to answer if you don’t want to. Can I ask why?”

“I’m not interested in men,” she said.

So, I probably wouldn’t get lucky, but it looked like there was hope for Erin. In fact, she might have ***********ed Tara for her own selfish reasons. I wouldn’t put it past her.

Friday 5:53 pm

I was in my study looking over an email from Chandler when there was a soft knock on the door. Then it opened, and Erin came in. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

“A couple things - people are starting to arrive, and I thought you might want to know that Natashya is stirring. She got some food and is eating in the media room.”

“Ah,” I said, standing up. I wanted to give her privacy when she was in her room, but if she was out and about, maybe she wouldn’t mind me trying to talk to her. “Where’s Emily.?”

“Taking a shower,” Erin said.

“Thanks, Erin.” I thought about talking to her about her decision to bring Tara in for an interview, but I wasn’t sure how long my window of opportunity with Natashya would be, so I decided it could wait until later.

“No problem, boss,” she said with a wink and a smile, then disappeared.

I headed to the media room, which was essentially a scaled-down luxury theater, and sure enough, when I opened the door and peered inside, I could vaguely make out the distinct shape of Natashya illuminated by the silver screen. Some old black and white movie was playing, and someone was ranting, “...she's not like an automobile or an icebox or a piece of furniture or something you buy on time, and when you can't give up the payments, they take it away from you!”

I slipped in and made my way over to where she was sitting, clearing my throat on the way to give her fair warning. It worked, and Natashya looked over her shoulder at me as she chewed on a mouthful of something that looked a little like chicken fried rice. She stared at me as I approached, and I stopped a few feet away. Neither of us said anything for a pregnant moment as the characters on the screen continued talking. Natashya just continued to slowly chew as she stared at me.

“I can leave you alone if you want,” I said.

She stared back at me for a long moment, and just when I was going to back away and leave, she sat her plate of food on the seat on the other side and patted the seat next to her. I sat beside her, and we both gave each other a long look before returning to the movie.

I never really understood the appeal of old movies. They all spoke in that strange, trans-Atlantic accent that made everything sound like a radio announcement. It bothered me. Plus, it was always the same four men in every movie. It was a product of its time, and I didn’t really get it, but I sat there and watched some of it with Natashya, unsure of how to start opening up about what happened to us in Vegas.

“How are you doing?” I finally asked.

She side-eyed me, and it felt like she thought my question was just as lame as I did. “I’m fine.”

I gave her a doubtful look, and she sighed. “Emily said she told you everything.

“She told me enough,” I said. “God, Natashya. I’m so sorry. I feel like this is all my fault.”

She shook her head and gave me a sad smile. “This is why I didn’t want to talk to you yet.”

That took me by surprise. “Because I’m trying to take responsibility for getting you kidnapped?”

“Yes,” she said. “Marcus, you did nothing wrong. Evil men came for you. They took you and beat you. I was with you because I chose to be, and they took me as well.”

“If I hadn’t-”

“If my uncle Alex hadn’t chased his friend across the street when he was little, he wouldn’t have been struck by a drunk driver,” Natashya said. “That does not make it his friend’s fault.”

That shut me up. It was a hard analogy to argue with.

“Can we please move past the part where you beat yourself up over this?”

Suddenly, I felt guilty for a different reason. I’d come in here and made Natashya’s situation about me. Whether I realized it or not, my priority had been confessing my sins to her in the hope of receiving absolution. I wanted her to take away my guilt, but instead, she pointed out the real problem. I wasn’t guilty of putting Natashya in harm’s way. I was guilty of being selfish.

“Fuck. You’re right. I’m sorry,” I said, then continued before she could respond. “Look, a huge part of why I came in here was to see how you were, though. I’ve been worried about you… and don’t give me some trite answer about being okay because I know you’re not.”

She offered me a sad smile.

“I don’t need you to open up. That’s what my sister is for. Emily told me you’ve been through a lot and that you’re super strong, and that’s really admirable. I just want you to know that it’s okay that you’re not okay, and if you need anything at all, I’m here for you. Just say the word.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” I said. “I care about you. A lot.”

“I care about you too,” she said, “and I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

I waved her off, “Don’t worry about that. I get it.”

“No,” she said. “I mean it. You invited me on the trip, then paid The Starlight so that I could keep my job. You’ve been letting me stay here. You’ve done so much for me when all I am is a dancer you fucked in a strip club.”

“Hey.” It was my turn to cut her off. “You’re more than that.”

She leveled a look at me. “I told you I would not be a good girlfriend for you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “At the very least, you’re my friend. You’re not just some girl I met and fucked.”

She stared back at me with an unreadable expression, but her eyes shined brightly in the light of the movie, and despite the bruises on her face and the split on her bottom lip, she was still striking.

“You look as bad as me,” she finally said.

“Yeah, well, you look incredible.”

Something in her expression changed slightly. It looked like her eyes got a little brighter, and I got the distinct impression that she was fighting tears.

“The last time a man touched me,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “was horrible. I would like a kiss… to remind me that it isn’t always like that?”

“If that’s what you want,” I said back.

I placed a hand on her cheek, carefully testing the waters to make sure she was actually okay with being touched so soon after what had just happened. I caressed the mottled browns and blues that stained her creamy skin and paid careful attention to her reaction. She simply stared back at me and waited.

I covered her lips with mine for a sweet, closed-mouth kiss. It was different than usual; Natashya’s lips had always been moist, pillow-soft, and ready to wrestle or caress as needed. This kiss was closed-mouth and sweet, but her lips were coarse and dry from the damage she’d received, and the time spent in recovery tasted something faintly medicinal as I moved my lips gently over hers. She reciprocated, but her tongue stayed in her mouth as she applied a little pressure of her own.

The movie droned on as we kissed. “…please Judge, I'll sell anything I've got until I get going again. And she'll never go hungry! She'll never be without clothes… not so long as I've got two good hands, so help me!” Then it faded to black.

At that moment, the door opened, and light spilled into the darkened theater. Natashya and I pulled apart and saw Emily standing in the doorway in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. Her freshly washed hair hung around her face in damp clumps.

“Oh!” she said, stopping short. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…”

“No,” I said, suddenly feeling very awkward. For a moment, as we kissed, I’d forgotten about the intimacy Natashya and Emily had shared in Vegas. Now that she caught us kissing, memories of seeing my sister’s nude form straddling the dancer resurfaced, and I found myself feeling very self-conscious about that fact. “It’s fine. We were just…” Just what? Talking?

“I should’ve knocked.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Emily,” Natashya said amusedly. “You live here now, yes?”

“I… Yeah?”

“Then you shouldn’t have to knock. Besides, we were just kissing. I wanted Marcus to remind me that I don’t hate men now. That is all.”

Emily bit her lip and looked back and forth between the two of us. “Okay,” she finally said.

Was she jealous? Last we spoke, the nature of their relationship wasn’t anything serious. Surely, that hadn’t changed, and if it had, Natashya didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would do something she thought a significant other would disapprove of. Though, how well did I really know her?

I stood up. “Erin told me she was here, and I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk.” To break the awkwardness, I decided to change the subject. “Is that what you’re wearing for tonight?”

“What?” Emily said, looking down at her shirt. “Oh, no. Natashya said she wasn’t feeling up for a party tonight, so I thought I’d stay with her for a bit and then join you guys later.” She sounded relieved that I’d changed the subject. “Oh! I came here to find you, by the way. Mom and Dad are here.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I looked back at Natashya. “I should probably get going. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in meeting my parents.”

Natashya chuckled. “I’m not really a ‘meet the parents’ kind of girl. Besides…” she gestured to all the bruises on her face.

“Alright,” I said. “I’m glad I caught you.”

She gave me a small smile. “I am, too. Have fun tonight, and tell the girls I said hi.”

“I will,” I said and then headed for the door. I stopped by Emily, and she smiled at me.

“Tell Mom and Dad I’ll see them soon,” she said.

“I will.” I looked back at Natashya and said, “Take care of her.”

The reunion with my mom and dad was about what I expected. Mom greeted me with immediate concern, fussing over the bruising and noticing the slight limp I had, while Dad was more reserved with his words, simply giving me a hug and murmuring in my ear that he was glad to see I was okay.

Both my parents were tall. Mom stood at about 5’9”, while Dad was 6’3”. That was where the similarity ended; in every other aspect, they were opposites. Everything about my mother was loud - her laugh, anger, and joy. Dad always claimed they could never catch us doing anything wrong because we could hear Mom coming a mile away. She also had a fiery temper. She was the mama bear who would come running the moment one of us got into trouble as kids, ready to kill anyone who even looked at her cubs wrong.

Meanwhile, Dad was soft-spoken, slow to anger, and a great listener. He let us make mistakes and was always there to pick us up when we fell. Mom was a thunderstorm. Dad was a rock.

They looked different, too. Dad was white, with a permanent five o’clock shadow for a beard and hair he had started losing in his early thirties. By this point, he’d lost so much on his crown that he gave up the battle and kept it buzzed close to his scalp. Fortunately, he had a good head shape, and baldness suited him well. He was lanky and had kind eyes the exact shade of Emily’s. He wore a simple button-down shirt, a pair of slacks, and a cardigan.

Mom was black, with skin the color of milk chocolate and black, liquid eyes. Her raven hair spilled from her head in tight curls and framed a round face and wide smile. She wore a dress that reached almost her ankles, hugged her curves, and displayed a modest amount of her prominent chest - nothing like some of the dresses I’d seen on my ladies while we were in Vegas. She was a beautiful, full-figured woman of forty-five years old.

And then a thought struck me. Helen was only two years younger than my own mother. That implied many things I did not want to entertain at this exact moment. I shoved them out of my head as quickly and violently as possible and focused on Richie.

At seventeen, Richie was the baby. He was also the smartest and was likely going to revolutionize the energy industry or cure cancer or… something. He had our mother’s eyes, our dad’s height, and a full head of hair he kept shaggy, much to our mother’s disdain.

“Hey, brother!” he said, giving me a hug.

“Hey man,” I said, returning it. “I’m glad you came with them. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” he said and pulled away. “Hey! Marcus, this is Megan!”

Keeping his hand on my shoulder, he gestured to a young woman standing behind him. I smiled and extended a hand to what I assumed was my brother’s girlfriend, a tiny, waifish thing who probably stood little more than five feet tall. Her hair was a dark, coppery red and matched the liberal dusting of freckles over her cute, upturned nose and cheeks. She had a peaches-and-cream complexion that suggested the hair was natural. Bright green eyes were set in a slender face that suited her svelte frame. She wore an off-white tank top, a black skirt that stopped just above the knees, and boots that went mid-calf. Her breasts were so small that she looked nearly flat-chested. She was, in a word, cute as a button.

“Hi, Megan. It’s good to meet you. Marcus has told me absolutely nothing about you.”

“Aw,” Megan said with a pout and glanced up at her boyfriend. “Well, he’s been talking about you a lot lately… and thanks.” She took my hand and smiled at me with a twinkle in her emerald eyes.

“Hey!” Richie said, “How’s this on me? He wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told him about you anyway.”

“That’s probably true,” I said, “I can already tell you’re too good for him.”

“Wow!” she said as she twirled a bit of red hair around a finger and looked up at him, giving him a grin. “I can see the charm runs in the family.” Then she cast a look back at me with a pair of ‘come hither’ eyes that almost knocked me off my feet. I did my best to ignore the look and put an arm around my mom, pulling her into the conversation.

We made a few more minutes of small talk before Erin arrived, looking stunning in a sequined, high-collar black-and-silver dress. She wore dark wine-colored lipstick and makeup, emphasizing her stunning deep brown eyes. Her silver hair was put into a bun that rested high behind her head, and the light hit it just right to show the soft sheen of lavender that wove subtly throughout her hair.

“Hi, Marcus,” she said as she approached us.

I introduced everyone to Erin and noticed my mom taking a keen interest in her. She seemed to cool off a little at first, but within five minutes, I could tell that Erin had won her over. When she suggested showing off the house, she told them to go ahead but asked me to stay behind.

“I like Erin,” she said as soon as they were gone.

“Emily had the same reaction when they met,” I said.

“And she’s your assistant? What kind of stuff do you have going on where you need an assistant?”

“A lot, actually. She gets me coffee and manages my schedule. When she’s not doing that, she’s arranging the purchase of my apartment and my plane. She’ll be at an important board meeting with me on Monday at VistaVision, and sometimes she helps me decide what I’m gonna wear, but we’re not dating or anything, Mom.”

“Sounds kind of like you’re dating to me,” Mom sassed. Then, she grew more serious. “Honey, I wanted to tell you again that I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you sooner. I thought you were better off not knowing who your father was.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “It’s fine. I was just blindsided when it first happened. I lucked out and found some people to help get my feet under me, though.”

“You sure did,” Mom said. Her look became more pensive, and she said, “My boy attending board meetings at VistaVision and going to news conferences… it just seems like yesterday you were crying over your math homework.”

“I wasn’t crying,” I protested, though I might have once or twice. PreCalc was hard, and I thought it was going to keep me from getting into college.

“My sensitive boy… so unsure of yourself but so kind,” Mom said, deciding to take an emotional stroll down memory lane. I looked around to make sure it was still just the two of us.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said.

“You’ve grown up,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh… you just seem a little more sure of yourself.”

“Was Colin sure of himself?” I asked. As far as I could tell, my mom was the only one who had actually known my biological father.

“Your father?” Mom said, “Oh yes. He was a little too sure of himself. It was obnoxious at times.”

“How long did you guys date?”

Mom hesitated before saying, “We didn’t really date. I was sixteen, and he had nine years on me, so I was a secret. Oh my, but I was starstruck by that man! I thought I was gonna marry him.”

“Then he died?”

“He disappeared,” Mom clarified, and a little sadness crept into her expression. “I tried to find out what happened to him, but that’s when the man showed up and warned me to back off. It was four years before I found out that he died.”

I felt a pang of sorrow for my mom, imagining what it was like to be stuck as a single mother after being ghosted by someone you thought you were head-over-heels for. It made me feel a little guilty for berating her on the phone a couple weeks ago. “God, I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “I got you out of it. Then I met your father and Emily and had the boys. Everything turned out just how God intended.”

And that was Mom in a nutshell - unbreakable.

“Anyway,” she said, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. Now, we should catch up with the others.”

“Hang on,” I said, fishing my phone from my pocket. “I wanna show you something.” I opened my pictures folder and showed her a picture of Cartwright. “Is this the guy who showed up that day to buy you off?”

Mom took the phone from me and stared at it intently for several moments with a look of pure bewilderment. “That’s him! He’s older, but I’d recognize that face anywhere. Looks like you could carve a roast on it.” She looked up at me. “Where’d you get this?”

I decided not to tell her that I met him when he pulled a gun on me. “He worked for Colin Gerrard. Apparently, he’s still on the payroll.”

Friday 5:53 pm

“Broooooo!”

With arms raised and drink in hand, Dillon strode over to me as soon as he saw me approaching. He crashed into my chest and wrapped his arms around me in a hug. “This party is fucking lit, dude!”

He wasn’t wrong. The entire rooftop had become a festive gathering with a large DJ station. The bar was fully stocked and manned by someone I didn’t know. Furniture I didn’t recognize was scattered chaotically and being utilized by people I couldn’t have pointed out in a police lineup - most of them beautiful and well-dressed. In front of the DJ station was a dance floor filled with even more unfamiliar faces.

On the way to Dillon, I spotted a couple of people I recognized. Honey and another dancer I only knew by her face were talking to my old college roommate, Ryan. Joel, my temporary chef, was there with a woman I guessed was his wife, and I spotted Shea coming off the dance floor with a man I didn’t know. Both of them were making their way to the bar.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I said with a chuckle.

“Enjoying myself?” Dillon said as he guided me to where he and Jonah were talking to two ladies. I vaguely recognized the one facing me while she was talking to a dark-skinned woman who had her back turned to me, but I couldn’t quite place her. That didn’t last long as Dillon made introductions.

“Ladies! This is the man who orche… ochre… who made the whole party, Marcus Upton! Marcus,” he pointed to the young woman I vaguely recognized, “this is Venus.”

That was it. Venus was a streamer Dillon and Jonah had introduced me to, and because they had shown me several of her clips, I randomly kept seeing her pop up on various feeds. It didn’t break my heart. Half the reason she had a fan base was that she was a fine-looking young woman. The other half was that she had a really good sense of humor.

“Oh!” I said and shook her hand. “I didn’t know you would be here!”

She seemed pleased with my enthusiasm as she shook my offered hand. “Happy to meet you, Mr. Upton!”

“Call me Marcus,” I said. “I really enjoy your videos.” I had to fight to keep it from being too thick.

The dark-skinned woman turned around at that moment, and I immediately recognized her.

Dillon started to say, “And this is R-”

“I know who this is,” Rose said, cutting my friend off as she grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. As we embraced, she brought her lips close to my ear and said, “Thank you for taking care of my girl, Marcus. I’m gonna have to get a second round with that cock again real soon to show you how grateful I am.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I said before she let me go.

“Wait… you two know each other?” Dillon asked.

“We met at a work function,” Rose said with a conspiratorial smirk. Venus had just brought her cup to her lips and sputtered into her drink; at least someone understood what Rose meant.

“Good to see you, man,” Jonah said, giving me a brief hug and a clap on the back. “It’s been a while.”

“You too, man,” I said, hugging him back.

“So, what happened to you?” he asked, pointing at my face. “I’ve heard the rumblings.”

“I’ll tell you about it a little later,” I said, spotting Helen standing by the pool. “I’ve got to make the rounds and see some people. Don’t you dare leave without seeing me.”

“Sure thing,” he said, and I left the group to approach Helen. I heard Dillon let out a whoop behind me as the music changed pace to something with a fast-paced beat.

She was watching the dancers and didn’t notice me approaching. She was radiant in a light blue dress that fell just short of her ankles. It was nearly backless, and the cut across the chest showed a fair amount of cleavage without it being scandalous. Her blonde hair was in a complicated braid wrapped around the back of her head into an even more complex bun, and if I squinted, she almost looked like she was cosplaying Elsa in Frozen.

“Want to build a snowman?”

Helen glanced at me and then did a double-take once she realized who I was. She gave me a half-smile and said, “What?”

I shrugged. “You just look like you should be casting ice spells or something.”

“Oh,” Helen said. “That horrible movie.” She looked back at the dancers, and I noticed her tightening her arms across her midsection. Something seemed a little off with her, which definitely hadn’t been the case the last time we saw each other. I remembered falling asleep entangled in each others’ arms while a naked Bobbi lay at our feet.

“Everything okay?”

“Hello, Mr. Upton,” a voice said behind me. My hackles immediately raised, but before I could process why, Roger VanCamp joined his wife and handed her a drink while holding one for himself. “Your home is remarkable.”

He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her possessively into him while offering me his free hand. I glanced at Helen, who kept staring at the dance floor, then at the proffered hand and considered leaving him hanging. Instead, I grabbed and shook it, squeezing slightly more than usual as we shook hands.

“Thanks, Mr. VanCamp,” I said. “Your wife helped me pick it out.” Helen’s eyes immediately flashed toward me, and I could feel the air tense around her; she didn’t like that. Roger’s grip on my hand tightened a little more. He didn’t like it either.

“She has good taste,” he said. He released my hand and grabbed his drink from the hand pressed against his wife’s midsection. “She married me, after all.”

The more he talked, the more uncomfortable I got. It was probably because this was the longest conversation I’d ever had with someone whose wife I was actively sleeping with… and he knew about it, too. Fuck… why did he have to come? He’d been happy to stay out of almost every other facet of my life, including doing his job and managing my estate. Of all the events and meetings I’d been to that involved YPV, the only one he had been to was my first meeting, and he’d barely said anything. I wondered if his sex life was about as active as his professional life. The more I thought about it, and the more bothered by his presence Helen looked, the less uncomfortable and the more irritated I was getting.

“I couldn’t tell,” I said before I could reign myself in. “Lately, it feels like I spend more time with your wife than you do.”

Helen’s gaze immediately jumped to me, wide with alarm.

Roger’s eyes tightened a little around at the corners as he sipped whatever he was drinking. His mouth was barely more than a thin line of disapproval when he lowered his glass. “I’m afraid that’s my fault,” he said a moment later. “I’ve been dealing with our Middle Eastern clients lately, which requires me to leave for weeks at a time. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the price we pay for success.” He pulled Helen a little tighter against him and looked at her. “That’ll all change soon, though. We’re training someone to take on some of my workload. Soon, I’ll be able to pay more attention to my wife.”

“Take your time, man. She’s in good hands.” Helen brought her drink to her lips but kept her eyes fixed on me, and I could see her practically screaming at me to stop.

I didn’t want to. Hearing the way Roger had been treating his wife annoyed me. Seeing it in action annoyed me even more. That wasn’t all, though. I was self-aware enough to realize that I was feeling territorial. Helen was mine - not his, and seeing his hand around her waist made that green monster in the back of my mind stomp around and flip proverbial tables. I hated seeing Roger here with her. I hated the smug look on his dumb face, and his voice irritated the crap out of me.

My comment wiped the smirk off his face, and I felt a sense of satisfaction as he looked back at me with contempt. “Oh, I know. I’ve always ensured that someone is around to care for my little kitten.” He removed his hand from around her waist to stroke her cheek with the back of a finger.”

Calling her ‘Kitten’ hit me like a ton of bricks; no wonder she treated Bobbi that way. It was the way Roger treated her.

“My drink isn’t mixed properly,” Helen said. “I think I’ll get it freshened.” She backed away from Roger and then turned to head to the bar. I thought about following her, but I didn’t want to risk causing a scene with Roger, who already looked like he was on the verge of starting something. I wasn’t sure if fighting with my lawyers was a good move just before trying to win over the board’s confidence.

Roger started to follow his wife, but before he left, I asked, “Do you know if Ashlee will be here tonight?”

“I haven’t talked to my daughter since I returned,” he said, leaving.

I watched him disappear and wondered how much it would cost to hire someone to drown Roger VanCamp in my pool.

“Hey,” Vikram said, stopping beside me. I glanced at him and was surprised to see him dressed down so much - I was used to seeing him in a suit, but now he was wearing a pair of loose khakis and a white button-down. He almost looked like he belonged on a beach.

“Oh, hey, man,” I said.

“That looked a little heated,” he replied.

I shook my head, looking back in the direction Helen had disappeared. “It’s nothing serious. I just don’t think Roger and I get along really well.”

“Probably has to do with you sleeping with his wife,” he said, and I snapped my attention back to him. Vikram had been frank with me before, but this felt almost inappropriate.

Apparently, I wasn’t doing a good job keeping my face from telegraphing every thought I had because Vikram was quick to say, “Don’t worry. I’m not here to judge. I can’t really blame you. She’s an incredible woman.”

“Who knows?”

“Karl and William, for sure,” Vikram said. “Probably, most of the stakeholders on your account, except the paralegals and newer hires. It’s not the first time Roger’s leveraged Helen like this. It’s the first time he’s let it go on so long, though.”

I looked back at the dancing crowd and asked him, “Should I stop?”

“Yes,” Vikram said matter-of-factly.

We stood in silence for a good two minutes, drinking in silence while watching the people dancing to the beat of the DJ’s music. I could literally feel the base thrum through my body as I considered Vikram’s words.

Finally, I asked him, “How familiar are you with my grandfather’s estate?”

“I was on the team that itemized and categorized everything, as well as checking it all for legal compliance.”

I looked at him. “Legal compliance?”

“Yeah. We had to ensure you weren’t inheriting blood diamonds or a cache of plutonium,” he said.

“I didn’t inherit any plutonium?”

“Nothing’s in the official books,” he said

“What about the unofficial ones?”

He took a drink and then looked at me. “I haven’t seen those.”

“What about flash drives?”

“Flash drives?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. When I was being held, a woman asked me if you guys had given me a flash drive.”

Vikram thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t remember seeing a flash drive listed among the inventory. Have you checked your grandfather’s office at VistaVision?”

“Erin’s going there tomorrow to take a look. What about the keys to his house? I haven’t even set foot in that place yet.”

“Which one?”

“He has more than one?”

Vikram snorted. “Try eleven.”

“Eleven houses?”

He nodded. “Maybe more. I didn’t memorize the whole list. He has a brownstone here in New York. There are apartments in London, Paris, Zagreb, and Tokyo. There’s a second home in the Hudson Valley, too. All that’s yours now.”

“Fuck. He had all those homes?”

“Correction,” Vikram said, “you have all those homes.”

I had been so busy over the last two or three weeks that I hadn’t even stopped to consider that I already had houses before I bought this apartment. I started to feel a bit foolish, spending money on a new place when I already owned a brownstone in the city, but then I remembered Erin telling me that most of the money I’d spent had already been recovered. I probably had enough money to buy a small country. The funds used to buy this expensive apartment were grains of sand on the vast beach of my wealth.

“There are some bank lock boxes listed among the inventory that we can check if you’d like,” Vikram went on, “but I don’t think there was a singular flash drive listed.

“Yeah,” I said, distracted by Natalie heading in my direction. “I’d appreciate any help you can give me.”

“Hi,” Natalie said when she got in earshot. Her eyes were dark pools of concern as they took in the injuries to my face, but she offered me that same warm, wide smile accompanied by dimples in her cheeks that I’d come to adore. Once again, seeing her physically in front of me made me feel all sorts of things I thought I’d put aside.

She was resplendent in a red champagne skirt and matching jacket with a cream blouse underneath that plunged just enough to show a tasteful amount of her formidable cleavage. Her black heels gave her an additional three inches of height and showcased her smooth, caramel legs.

I suddenly felt my stomach lurch, and I felt the old, familiar desire to kiss her once again. Except, unlike the other countless times over the better part of a year, now I knew what kissing her was like - better than any fantasy. God, she was good at it.

“Hey,” I said.

Vikram looked back and forth between the two of us and said, “Well, I’m getting low, so I’m gonna get a refill. Marcus, I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Thanks,” I said absentmindedly as I stared at Natalie.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” I said.

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “Just with everything… you know…”

“We’re still friends, right?”

“Of course!” I looked around and asked, “Is he here with you?”

“No,” Natalie said. “He said he needed to work over the weekend. He’s taking me to his home in the Catskills this week. Just an overnight trip.”

I didn’t want to hear any more than that. “Sure. Take whatever time you need.”

She smiled, and it mirrored some of the awkwardness I felt. “Thanks.”

I just so happened to look over Natalie’s shoulder and saw Danni approaching the two of us, a shy smile on her face as we locked gazes. She was yet another radiant woman on my rooftop who was out of my league - her coal black hair was up in a loose pile on top of her head, which allowed her to show off the delicate, ivory curves of her swan-like neck. Her upturned eyes were emphasized with the subtle use of eyeliner and mascara to give her bedroom eyes maximum effect. They gave me the impression I was being undressed with them. She wore a simple black dress that contrasted lovely with her alabaster skin and stopped just short of her knees, and her neckline plunged much lower than Natalie’s, showing off tantalizing amounts of flesh between her modest breasts.

She hesitated a moment when she saw I was already talking to someone, but after the conversation we’d shared yesterday, the last thing I wanted was for her to think I was brushing her off. I waved her over.

“Hey, Marcus!” She said as she came the rest of the way.

“Hey, Danni,” I said. “This is Natalie. I used to work with her at my old job before I found out about my grandpa.”

“And now I work for him,” Natalie said, turning to Danni. “And you are?”

“Danielle Holland,” Danni said as she offered her hand.

“Danielle sold me the apartment.”

I noticed Natalie looking her up and down and caught something in her eye that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I got the impression that she was weighing the realtor as if wondering if she could take her in a fight. The awkwardness came roaring back.

“So, you’ve only known Marcus for a couple of weeks?” Natalie asked in a way that seemed completely unassuming. To me, at least.

Something changed in Danni’s demeanor - a subtle shift that surprised me. From day one, Danni had always seemed like one of the kindest and sweetest women I’d ever met, but something Natalie said affected her that even I picked up on, and I started to wonder if I’d made a mistake.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but we’ve been working closely…”

Whatever else Danni was saying was lost on me as I noticed Erin moving out of the rooftop garden and into the main party area next to the pool. That would have been fine, but she had someone else with her. Although I couldn’t hear them from this distance, I could tell my assistant was being her usual, charming self as she animatedly talked to the person following her.

Erin spotted me, started to wave, and then noticed who I was with. Thanks to weeks of getting to know her, I could sense the subtle shift in her facial expression as she started to turn toward the bar. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been the only one to spot me.

Jessica stood in a red dress that glowed with a faint metallic sheen. We locked eyes, and she gave me a faint, hopeful smile. I glanced at the two ladies with me, sensing a subtle, growing tension between them. Yikes. Between Natashya and Emily, Roger and Helen, Danni and Natalie, and now Jessica… tonight was getting messy.

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Thanks again for reading another installment of the story. If you have any feedback, please feel free to email me. Or if you’re interested in reading any further installments, check out my Patreon at patreon.com/mindsketch. Chapters up to 45 are posted there already, and a LOT of extra dirty bonus chapters. Thanks for your time and cheers!

-MindSketch

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