Exit, page 9
Michael left Soledad there, moved around the side of the house, gravel crunching under the soles of his shoes.
Harley-Davidson Fat Boy. Black. Twin Cam engine, satin chrome muffler, narrow seat, low suspension. Front shock covers, floorboards. MSRP over sixteen thousand.
More than Michael would’ve paid for a car if the company hadn’t provided him one.
Daniel stared at the bike, puzzled, parts laying on a drop cloth at his feet. He turned at a sound, spotted Michael nearing him, did a double-take.
“Expecting someone else?” Michael asked. “Someone reporting on my movements maybe?”
“What are you talking about? Wasn’t expecting anyone,” Daniel said, wiping his grease-stained hands on his trousers. Then bending down in a baseball catcher’s crouch to examine the underside of the bike.
“I was wondering if you could explain something to me, Danny.”
Daniel looked up. He hated “Danny.” It had always been a struggle for him to be taken seriously. Danny certainly didn’t help matters. Sounded like the name you’d give a boy with a magic carpet and talking animals as best friends.
“We’ll see one another at the office tomorrow, Michael. I’ll make it a point to chew down some TUMS and swallow some ginger ale and come find you. Tomorrow.”
“No. This gets settled tonight, Danny Boy.”
Daniel looked at him. “Are you purposely taking an adversarial tone with me?”
“I suppose I am,” Michael admitted.
Daniel rose from the crouch, his eyes narrowed, wiping his hands on his pants again, slowly. “You come to cause trouble? In my house?”
“Technically we’re outside,” Michael said, and looking up to point. “See, that’s the sky.”
“Soledad let you in?”
“Again, Danny, we’re outside.”
“It’s been a long day,” Daniel said. “I don’t have the energy to joust.”
“I understand. This probably won’t take long.”
“That was me warning you off before this turns ugly, Michael, not an invitation to keep this shit going.”
“Was it? Communication has never been your strong point, Danny. I’m afraid your warning flew right over my head.”
“If it wasn’t for Rachel, I would’ve broken you in half a long time ago, Michael. I want you to know that.”
“You mean, tried to.”
“I’d like you to leave,” Daniel said. “There, I said it nicely.”
“No,” Michael said. “Also said nicely.”
“I don’t know what my father sees in you.”
“Something he doesn’t see…elsewhere.”
Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “Notice I didn’t say what Rachel sees in you? In this family it’s all about what my father wants. You have a job and a beautiful wife and no scratches on you…all because that’s what my father wants. Don’t get too high on yourself, Mikey. You can thank my father for all of that. The great job, the lack of scratches”—he smiled—“the beautiful wife.”
Michael was wounded by the words. He couldn’t show it, though. The weak exploited the weak in others. That made them feel better about themselves. Michael wouldn’t allow himself to be Daniel’s therapy.
He said, “The Bellatoris…”
Daniel smiled. “Who? That a rock group or something? Learned about them from one of your party girls?”
Michael didn’t take the bait. He remained calm, neutral. “I understand you brought them into the company. They’re causing me some trouble now. I’d like you to have a word with them. Shorten their leash. I don’t want trouble, with you or them. I just want to live.”
“Let’s suppose I know who you’re talking about. Let’s suppose I actually have the power to do what you’re suggesting.” He paused. “I don’t like you, Michael. That’s no secret. So what if I took them off of their leash completely? What if I did that instead?”
Michael gritted his teeth. “When you threaten another man, all bets are off, Danny. This is my life we’re talking about.”
Daniel waved him off, bent back into a crouch, his attention back on the bike.
Michael said, “Malcolm—”
“Won’t be around to hold your dick forever,” Daniel cut in. “I don’t care to hear anything about the old man right now.”
“I’m sure he’d love to know your true feelings, Danny.”
“I’m sure you’ll run off and tell him.” He held his hands up in front of his face, examined them. “And look at this, my hands aren’t shaking.”
Michael nodded. “I was hoping we could resolve this. I see that I have to have this conversation with someone that actually matters.”
“You stir up my father, Michael, and the both of you will be sorry.”
Michael arched an eyebrow. “Is that a double threat, Danny Boy?”
But Daniel was back focused on his bike, his forehead lined with frown wrinkles.
Michael left him there.
CHAPTER
FIVE
And went home.
Rachel was awake, in the kitchen by the sink, tap water on and running slow into the neck of a tea kettle. Michael stood in the doorway and watched her admiringly. Her pajama pants rode low on her hips, a glimpse of her panties visible above the waist. One strap of her camisole hung off of her shoulder. She turned the faucet off, took the tea kettle from the sink, and set it down on a lit oven burner, blue flame the color of her top licking at the bottom of the tea kettle. Then she turned back.
Her hard nipples made two impressions in her top.
Michael licked his lips.
She looked up then, spotted her husband. He nodded. She nodded in turn, a small smile at the corners of her mouth.
“What do you have there?” she asked, nodding at the book under his arm.
“Nicholas Sparks.”
She frowned, quickly eased back into a smile. “A romance novel? Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
“This is the part where I take you off to the bedroom.”
“What about my tea?”
“It can wait,” he said.
She moved to turn off the flame on the oven, but Michael was on her, taking her by the shoulders, turning her to face him, the flame still burning bright under the kettle.
“I need to turn that off,” she whispered.
“Let it whistle,” he said, smiling. “We’ll find out who is louder… you or the kettle.”
“Judging by the look in your eyes,” she said, smiling, “I might win that one.”
He took her hand, led her from the kitchen, toward their bedroom.
He felt an energy he hadn’t had in days. Rachel hadn’t even been the last woman he’d made love to. But right now, she was the only woman in the world that he wanted to touch in that intimate way.
The bedroom lights were out. A votive candle flickering on their dresser.
“Romantic,” he said. “Expecting someone?”
She bit her lip. “A girl can hope.”
His hand fell to the small of her back, guiding her toward the bed. They didn’t lay down on it, though. Stopped and faced one another. She stood on tiptoes, and found his mouth. Soft lips. Her tongue easing inside his mouth. His tongue responding. A moist dance.
He gripped her head. She tried to ease away. He held the grip firm, and after a moment she eased her arms around his waist. Suddenly she didn’t care if her hair was disturbed, didn’t care if Michael dominated her. She was content being enslaved to him.
The strap fell further off of her shoulder. He eased the other off as well. Left her shivering in the cold. Nipples like stones.
He bent just enough to trap a breast in his mouth. Karla loved her nipples sucked. Rachel had always been indifferent about it. But today wasn’t typical in any way. Today was a day of revelation. Rachel gasped and moaned like a strong wind as his mouth sucked hard on her breast.
A moment later her hand fumbled at his belt. She managed a hand inside his pants. Gripped his thick erection. Stroked the undershaft at the tip, the most sensitive part, with her thumb.
A room filled with moans.
Then they were on the bed together, both of their pants scattered on the carpet.
His erection grinding the front of her panties. Her panties growing wet in the crotch.
“Finger me,” she whispered.
He dipped a finger in her warmth, testing it like coffee. Hot but not scalding.
“Two,” she said.
“Beg me.”
“Two fingers, please.”
He gave her three and she fucked them without complaint, moving her hips up and down as his fingers disappeared in the thatch of pubic hair that covered her vagina.
The finger play lasted just a few moments. She wanted, needed, the real thing. He separated her lower lips with his thick erection. Dipped it deep inside her warmth, her legs spreading wide to accommodate it, her ankles crossed at his lower back to keep them clutched together close. She wrestled like that, lovemaking that was centimeters away from being violence.
Later, her legs propped up on his shoulders, the ceiling appearing to rise and fall from her view. Her vagina pulsing like a beating heart muscle. Each twitch tight around his penis like a fist.
She came hard and long. Screaming out in a voice she didn’t recognize.
That seemed to inspire him. He pounded her flesh with all of his strength.
Slap, slap, slap.
And then he was coming, too.
A loud roar ripping from his chest.
He fell away, spent.
Both of their chests heaving. Both of their bodies slick with odorous sweat.
“What was that?” she said in a rasp.
“Passion,” he told her. “Passion, baby.”
It sounded corny but she didn’t shoot it down. She reached over and found his hand, grasped it, squeezed.
“The security team at work…” he said, moments later.
She nodded.
“They’re bent,” he said.
“Bent?”
“Criminal, crooked, destructive.”
“I’m not surprised. My father—”
“Daniel’s behind them,” he cut in.
“My brother Daniel?” she asked, her tone thick with surprise.
“The one and only.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Trust me.”
“Didn’t think he was smart enough to be behind anything.”
“They need to be reeled in.”
She frowned. “Is this relevant to us somehow? Are they causing you trouble of some sort?”
Admit to another the nature of your wrongs.
“Daniel has it in for your father,” he said. “I’m concerned about the old man.”
Silence was the only sound for awhile.
Then Rachel cleared her throat. “Talk to him. Have a word with my father.”
“I definitely will,” Michael said.
“Now,” she went on, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s use your energy for better use.”
“Again?”
She bit her lip, nodded.
That surprised him. A day of revelations.
She was already wet. He edged himself inside of her, more than pleased to do so.
CHAPTER
SIX
Malcolm’s top-floor office. A slice of the building too elaborate to describe in detail. In most corporate settings it would have been assigned the duties of a conference room.
Malcolm’s secretary greeted Michael with a small nod, clicked a few buttons on her phone, spoke softly into the receiver, and a beat later nodded again. He’d gained favor enough to enter. Malcolm was standing in the center of the floor as Michael walked in. The old man’s smile was slightly unsettling, and he didn’t offer Michael a seat, but Michael wouldn’t be deterred. He stood tall.
Malcolm was dressed to his part. Dark blazer made of a silk patterned fabric. Wool pants. A cotton poplin shirt with microchecks. Silk tie. Black calfskin loafers.
Michael said, “Ermenegildo Zegna. Very impressive.”
“I’m paying you to be the fashion police?” Malcolm said, smiling.
Fashion police.
As good of a lead-in as any.
Michael cleared his throat. “Speaking of police. I thought I’d have a word with you regarding the Bellatoris.”
“Who?” Malcolm’s smile widened.
Michael matched the smile. “Same thing Daniel said when I mentioned them. Like father, like son, I suppose.”
Malcolm’s smile dropped like sand in an hourglass. “If you’re here to insult me, dear, I must bid you adieu.”
“Not my intention at all.”
“I do hope our vibrant conversation from the other evening hasn’t caused any animus.”
“I’m animus-free, Malcolm.”
“Delightful,” the old man said, clasping his hands together.
“About the—”
“I’m afraid I let the cat out of the proverbial bag the other night,” the old man said, cutting him off. “Your current salary isn’t commensurate with my hopes and expectations for you. That’s certainly evident to you, and I can’t begrudge you the notion. I’d be thinking the same thing. But it would be a severe tactical error on my part to adjust your compensation package at this point. So, unfortunately, I’m afraid my daughter must continue mopping her own floors and folding her own laundry at this point, dear. You do understand my position, I hope.”
“Is every conversation with you a company of one, Malcolm? Do you actually ever hear the other person?”
Malcolm smiled. “On those rare occasions when the other person isn’t just making so much noise”—he looked off thoughtfully, nodding his head slowly—“Yes, I’ve been known to be more engaged.”
“Well, this,” Michael said, “is one of those moments.”
Malcolm’s eyes found Michael again, that ever present smile still glowing. “Decisions, decisions,” he said, sighing dramatically. “Do I hear you out or ask Celia to prepare me a coffee and Danish?”
“Take this seriously, Malcolm.”
“Well, your choice of women does show a strong degree of discernment, dear. I’ve seen photographs. This latest, Karla Savage, is truly a splendid creature. I truly admire discernment in a man. So, go ahead, dear. The floor is all yours.” He held out his arms to represent as much. A showman.
“The Bellatoris…” Michael prodded.
Malcolm took that moment to take a seat. Leather throne chair behind a big polished wood desk. “We had some terrible security breaches, dear. Much worse than just downloaded porn. Daniel happened to be around while I vented my frustrations. My son suggested we hire contractors of a sort to handle our issues.”
“Brutes,” Michael said, falling into the guest chair directly in front of Malcolm’s oversized desk.
“Exactly. Which is why I entrusted the task to Daniel.”
“You made a mistake. They’re dangerous, Malcolm.”
“Where is this coming from, Michael? Upset that they’ve caught you one too many times with your hands in the cookie jar?” Malcolm smiled. “You are quite photogenic, I must admit. I’ve never photographed well myself. I envy that in you.”
“You’re comfortable with having a corporate security team out following your employees? Taking pictures of your employees like private investigators in a sleazy detective novel or something?”
“Very,” Malcolm said, nodding.
“They’re dangerous,” Michael repeated.
Malcolm sniffed, waved his hand dismissively. “Brutes, as you said. But competent brutes. The security breaches have ceased. I rather like them. That Doyle is actually intelligent. I suppose he didn’t leave all of his brain cells in the wilds of Ia Drang or wherever it is he came from.”
“You made a tactical error,” Michael said. “You should’ve never brought them aboard.”
“I would tend to disagree,” Malcolm said. “And since you aren’t speaking in specifics, I’ll leave my response at that.”
“Daniel has it in for you, Malcolm.”
“And I for him,” the old man said, smiling.
“He’s using the Bellatoris for his dirty work,” Michael added. “I fear for your safety.”
“Brutes. But harmless to me. I rule this kingdom, dear.”
“I’ve seen them at their worst,” Michael objected. “They’re far from harmless.”
“That Liz Sutherland…magnificent creature, is she not? I’m not even sure the Viagra would keep me equitably prepared for a woman of her great talent.”
“You’re not listening, Malcolm.”
“This conversation bores me, dear. But I’m trying to be polite and not yawn. If my chin hits my chest, do close the door softly on your way out.”
“What I’m saying is just noise to you?”
“Of the highest order,” Malcolm said. “This is horrid rap music, a jackhammer breaking up concrete, a baby’s cry.”
“You’ll regret this blasé approach someday, I’m afraid.”
“Not my only regret,” the old man said. “I have”—a smile—“a few.”
Michael gave up. Rose from his seat and turned to leave. Malcolm’s voice pulled him back at the last moment. He turned back to the old man, his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”
“Perhaps you’d lower your angst if you approached the…Bellatoris? Latin, correct?” He chuckled. “Perhaps you should consult with Ms. Sutherland. I understand she’s adept at…comfort play. And we both know how much you appreciate the comforts of a beautiful woman. You can present me with a play-by-play afterward. I’ll live vicariously through you.”
“She’s adept at a great deal, Malcolm.”
Malcolm flashed his teeth. “Well, there you go, dear. I look forward to the blow-by-blow account.”
Michael didn’t ease the door closed. He let it knock shut of its own accord.
Now what?
He was out of ideas.
