L'Affaire C. 07bysharkandpen©
When Carly reached the privacy of her car she pulled her cell phone out and dialed home, or at least, what use to be home. A familiar male voice answered on the second ring. "Yello?" he drawled.
"Are you trying to humiliate me? You had me served at work?"
"Well, hello to you, too," Mike said, indifference in his voice. "Just where should I have sent them, Caroline? You're never home. You sure as hell weren't when you lived here."
"Just stop. I left my entire life behind to follow you back to this hellhole and—" "And promptly disappeared. If I'd waited for you to get home from work or school or whatever bullshit you have yourself wrapped up in I'd never get the papers signed. Speaking of which, did you sign them?"
"Not yet," Carly said, sinking into her seat.
"Well you need to sign them, Carly. Anna doesn't want to be with someone else's husband."
"That didn't bother her before."
"Oh stop it, that's not how it was."
"You mean you didn't fuck her for months and come home and sleep with me as if nothing was going on? As if you weren't having sex and then—"
"Anna's not a slut, she's--"
"HA!" Carly couldn't help a strangled laugh.
"Dammit, Carly, you weren't there for me. You were never there for me, what was I supposed to do?"
"Not have sex with her in the afternoon and me in the evening? Ask for a separation before moving on to the next—"
"I'm done with this. You still don't get it, you stupid bitch. You'll never get it."
The connection went dead and Carly tossed her cell phone in the seat next to her. With trembling fingers, she dialed her dad's extension at the office.
"Tim Dugan's office," Rebecca said brightly into the phone. Rebecca hated nearly everyone, but had incredible phone manners and could deal with pretty much anyone's shit without getting defensive, which was why she was the perfect conduit between Tim Dugan's clients and Tim Dugan.
"Hi Rebecca, it's Carly. Could I speak to Mr. Dugan?"
Rebecca was one of the few people in the office that new Carly was the boss' daughter. Given the chance, her dad would have advertised it to the world, but Carly liked to keep a lid on the information. She wasn't looking to have her ass kissed by people trying to impress her dad, and she wasn't interested in special treatment.
One plus to moving back to the town of her birth, where she and Mike had met in high school, was that she got to be close to her dad again. Her dad picked up an instant later. "Caroline? Are you okay, honey? Rebecca said you sounded upset."
"I'm fine, daddy," Carly said dejectedly. "Well, not really. Mike had the divorce papers served to me today."
"Thank God you're finally done with him. Do you want me to read them and see if everything's on the up and up?"
"No, thanks. I actually just...a lot's going on. Work, school, the divorce...and technically my internship at the office is over. I know I planned to stay on during the year just to keep my hands in it but I think I need a break."
"Of course, of course. Do you want me to break the news to Jack?"
Carly paused. What was the point of being the boss's daughter if you couldn't hide behind him to avoid disappointing people? "You don't mind?"
"No, no, this will work out. Anderson found us a new receptionist and LeAnn's gotten enough of a handle on how things work that I can move her over to Jack's office and get her more involved. She's got a funny way about her but she's a smart girl."
Carly grinned. She would love to be a fly on the wall when Jack finds out he's been assigned the up-talker. Luckily nothing seemed to phase him since his mystery girlfriend came along.
"Thanks dad. Tell Helen I said hi."
"Yes, yes, but she does want you to come to dinner this Sunday. You didn't join us last Sunday and you know how she frets when she thinks she's put you off."
Carly smiled, picturing her stepmother. If only her own mother worried as much about how Carly felt, childhood might have been a bit different. She loved her mom, but Lorraine McCleary made it clear she wasn't interested in being the protective, warm mother that all of Carly's childhood friends seemed to be blessed with.
"I'll be there. Bye dad."
"Bye, see you tomorrow and don't worry about anything here."
Tomorrow. She'd gotten so used to Jack working on the weekends that she'd completely forgotten today was Saturday.
When Carly didn't come to work on Monday, Liam got worried. She was suing the firm for sexual harassment. He was going to lose his job. He had behaved totally inappropriately and now everyone was going to know.
He'd made Jack agree to go to lunch with him even though they both had too much to do to even think about food. Still, Liam needed to be able to concentrate if he was going to get anything done. They'd gone to their usual lunch spot, chosen not because it was particularly good but instead because it was close to the office, ensuring they would be away from their desks for as little time as possible.
"So are you going to tell me what's up?" Jack asked. He'd ordered a club sandwich and was ignoring it in favor of the French fries that accompanied it.
"I-uh- I was wondering. Is Barbie sick today?"
Jack shook his head. "No. Dugan phoned me to let me know she was done."
Liam's stomach twisted. She'd hadn't resigned to Jack, her immediate supervisor. She'd gone straight to the Senior Partner and quit. Why? It had to be because she knew Jack and Liam were friends. "They're moving LeAnn over to me. I'll finally have a permanent assistant, but..well, let's just say she's no Carly."
Liam nodded. "The uptalker. That's tough. Well, at least you don't have Kevin. That guy's more trouble than he's worth. Why'd she go to Dugan? "
"I dunno, why do women do anything? She was probably embarrassed about being served divorce papers at work and it was easier to ask her dad to tell everyone she was leaving than face everyone at the office."
"Her dad?" Liam was lucky nothing was in his mouth, or he'd have probably spit it out all over himself. "Tim Dugan is Barbie's father? How long have you known this?"
Jack looked at Liam inquisitively. He was looking green, which was some feat for a black guy. "I always knew, she just didn't want that stigma of being the boss's daughter so she kept it quiet."
"But they don't even have the same last name!" Liam protested.
"She's married. Well, I guess not really anymore. Man, are you okay? You don't look so good."
"No, I'm not okay," Liam snapped. He said it accusingly, though why he couldn't be sure. "Why didn't you ever tell me? I can keep a secret. Jesus, Jack, I now have no chance of making partner."
"What the hell are you talking about, L? I know Carly gives you a hard time but she thinks you're a good lawyer. You are a good lawyer. Not sure how, because you never seem to be at your desk, but you deliver. Of course they'll offer you partner."
Liam ran his hands over his closely cropped hair. He looked defeated. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "I fucked up, man. I fucked up."
Slowly, Liam started to tell Jack about sending Carly flowers. About her coming to his office to thank him and finding him with binoculars, looking out his window at the exhibitionists. About letting her look through the binoculars.
"You didn't ask her to take the binoculars," Jack pointed out. "Why do you have binoculars?"
"Forget about the binoculars. I knew there was a woman across the street getting fucked in the ass by her lover and I let Carly watch. I am going to get fired. This is a career breaker. Saturday she stumbles upon me watching live-action porn and suddenly on Monday she quits?"
"She quit on Saturday."
Liam pushed his plate away and grimaced. What had he been thinking? He should have kept her from taking the binoculars. He shouldn't have been watching in the first place and he sure as hell shouldn't have let her be in a position where she was standing in an office, alone, with someone who was technically her superior, watching a sexual act. It was inappropriate. It was irresponsible. He deserved to get fired.
Jack whistled. "You have to call her and straighten this out, man." He popped a french fry into his mouth. "Hey, did I tell you my sister got arrested?"
"I'm not saying I'm upset that I couldn't hang on to him, in particular. I'm more upset that I couldn't hold onto a man in general. Especially once I'd gotten married. I mean, that's supposed to be the big hurdle, right?"
"Hold onto a man?" Dawna said the words derisively. "You do not need to be worrying about holding onto a man. You need to find a man that's desperately preoccupied with holding onto you. How many times have I told you, Carly, he has to love you more than you love him."
"I know. And I thought I had that with Mike."
"Okay, that's true. I thought so, too. But that doesn't mean the theory is a failure. Mike just happened to be fickle. Let's face it, Ice Queen, you aren't the easiest person to love. And I can say that because I love you dearly."
"I just feel so unwanted. And unsexy. And generally like a failure." Carly curled her legs underneath her and pulled a blanket down on top of her tanned legs. She'd just had them waxed so they were without hair and smooth. This usually made her feel good, but today not even a fresh wax, including bikini area, could make her feel sexy.
"That's an easy enough fix. All you need is to make a man want you. Totally easy, Ms. Blue-Eyed Blond with implants and a tan. They already do. All you need is a good roll in the hay to get you out of your funk, I promise."
Carly couldn't help but laugh. Speaking to Dawna, even if it was just over the telephone, always made everything seem just a little bit better. She missed living in the same city as her best friend. Now Dawna seemed like a world away. "Sex is your answer for everything."
"Sex IS the answer for everything!" They both laughed this time.
"I can't wait till I'm done with school, Dawna. I want to come home."
"I want you to come home, too. I know you're miserable up north. But hot sex is going to cheer you right up."
"Sex is no good. I always end up getting attached. I don't want to fall for anyone right now."
Dawna paused thoughtfully. "Well, then. You need really dirty sex." Carly didn't say anything. "I'm serious, I think this will work. You need to have the kinkiest, filthiest sex imaginable. You have to make this guy think you're a freak. Well, you are kind of a freak, but I mean he should think you're some kind of insatiable fiend."
"And how exactly is this going to fix anything?"
Dawna sighed and when she spoke again it was as if she were speaking to a child or a mental patient. "You need to humiliate yourself with this man. So much so that the thought of seeing him again is abhorrent to you. Ergo, no attachment. Sex and nothing more. Do you have anyone you can get freaky with?"
A picture of Liam popped into Carly's mind and she closed her eyes tightly and tried to push it away. It would be incredibly stupid to get involved with that man. He was too handsome. Too witty. Too smart and successful and perfect. And tall. She was already attached and she hadn't even fucked him yet. Not 'yet'. No fucking. She wasn't going to fuck him. Why was she thinking about fucking him. As she was thinking about what she shouldn't be thinking about but was thinking about anyway, a knock sounded at her door.
"I gotta go. Someone's at the door."
"If it's the pizza guy screw his brains out," Dawna quipped.
Carly was grinning when she hung up. She pushed the blanket off her legs and trotted to the door in her slippers. When she looked through the peep hole she saw dark skin and broad shoulders and her body went on hyper alert. Liam. What was he doing here? She thought back to the last time she'd seem him, the way his eyes lingered over her breasts. She looked down at her University of California, Berkeley sweatshirt from her undergrad days and Dawna's words came back to her. Liam knocked again.
Carly peeled the sweatshirt off and set it on the table by the door. Under it she had a T-shirt. It was thin and pale pink and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Implants had assured that, even without a push-up bra, her breasts remained pert. She could see the dark brown pigment of her nipples through the T-shirt, as well as the outline of their shape. Quickly she kicked off the slippers, threw the sweatshirt on the coat hanger by the door and swung the door open.
When she opened the door Liam looked anxious, but as his eyes scanned her body his expression quickly turned to fear. He was relieved he'd left his suit jacket on and buttoned because Carly immediately brought his libido to life. He T-shirt was like a second skin and her perfect tits stood out proudly, pert globes that made him want to send her plastic surgeon flowers. He legs were barely covered. The shorts she was wearing were clearly meant to be pajama shorts. They were white cotton and, had he been viewing her from behind, he doubted they were long enough to cover the full curve of her ass. She had a runner's legs, lean and sculpted and brown. Even her toenails, painted a purple so dark it could have been black, looked good.
"Liam. Hi." The sound of her voice saying his name melted his insides a little. Her shorts had a Snoopy pattern. The little beagle had never looked so sexy. He could make out dark panties underneath the white shorts and suddenly he wanted to get a look at her ass to determine if they were thong panties. They looked small enough to be thongs. Her nipples, before only visible because of their darker pigment showing through the thin material of the shirt, had hardened and were now clearly visible. Liam stood, shell-shocked.
Carly stepped back from the door and made a welcoming motion with her arm. "Come in." When she said the word 'come' his thoughts immediately roamed elsewhere. As he stepped through the entryway and closed the door behind him Carly turned and made her way toward the living room. Thong. Surprisingly, her shorts landed below the well sculpted ass. Definitely a thong.
Her tight little ass jiggled slightly as she pattered into an expensively furnished living room. "I was just about to start a fire," she said, bending at the waist to pick up a log and toss it into the fireplace. Her shorts stretched tight across her rear and Liam's erection throbbed.
"I'll do that," he said quickly, knowing that if she stood bent over in front of him much longer he'd push those shorts down and take her from behind right here and now. He kneeled next to her and started piling logs. Her hair was slightly damp and it smelled like peaches. "I'm sorry to just show up. I tried calling but your home phone was busy and I couldn't find your cell phone listed."
"I was talking to a friend," she said, standing. "I'll go get us a couple beers."
"I tried for at least an hour—" Liam called over his shoulder, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen.
"We were talking for two," he heard Carly's voice. He heard the refrigerator open and close and reached for the package of matches on the mantle. He was completely inept when it came to starting fires, or really doing much of anything campy, but luckily she kept some of those paper-wrapped starter logs in addition to the real wood. The paper caught fire quickly and he was able to stand up and survey the room before she came back. The couch and loveseat were both overstuffed black leather but there were also two chairs in red and, of all things, a bear-skin rug on the floor. For some reason he hadn't imagined Carly with big couches and a bear-skin rug in her home. He'd pictured tidy looking furniture in pastel hues with sharp lines and very little cushion.
Standing up, he looked around the rest of the apartment, or at least what he could see from his vantage point. A sweatshirt hanging next to the door caught his eye. Why in the hell hadn't she thrown something on before answering the door? Women. Suddenly she was standing next to him holding out a bottle of beer to him. A microbrew, again, not something he'd expected. He took the bottle and she moved away again, this time to an mp3 player perched on a dock. Music filled the room. He recognized a female jazz vocalist he recognized. He tried to avoid looking at her breasts as she walked back over to him.
"I came by because—Well, I wanted to say—I'm really sorry about Saturday and what happened in my office." The words, which initially stuck in his throat, were soon spilling out. "It was completely unprofessional and inappropriate and I really regret that it happened." She had stepped closer to him, was looking up at him as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "I mean, you have to work in that environment, and it should be comfortable. You shouldn't have to worry about walking into my office and feeling any—sexual charge—and if that's why you quit, I mean, I understand but I really am sorry. If you'll come back I can promise you that nothing like that will ever happen again." He paused and took a deep breath, then finally looked into her eyes to see if he could see understanding, or forgiveness. She was staring at him with those big blue eyes. A slight smile played at the corners of her pouty lips.
"You mean it? There won't be any more...sexual charges...between us?"
He was already a liar. "Scouts honor." That was okay. He was never a boy scout. Carly set her beer on one of the end tables and turned back to him. In one smooth motion she pulled her T-shirt up and over her head, revealing two perfectly shaped breasts. Liam's heart slammed in his chest. Nervously, he licked his lips. "I-uh- Carly—"
"No," she said, stepping into him and reaching for the buttons on his suit jacket. In no time she had the jacket pushed out of the way and was working on his belt. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her tits. "Don't call me that." She pulled his button down shirt free of his pants and with quick little movements started working on the buttons, exposing a muscular expanse of dark brown skin. He'd taken off his tie at a traffic light on the way over, so there was nothing in her way when she pushed his shirt and jacket back off his shoulders and down his arms, revealing large biceps and a gold Rolex.
Liam was frozen in place. "Barbie, what are you—" His words caught in his throat when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her chest to his. He could feel her nipples scrape against his chest and she pulled his head down until his face was close enough to her that she could press her mouth to his. The smell of peaches was stronger now and he wasn't sure how long he could keep still. Was this a test? Was she testing him? He was able to keep his arms, and the rest of his body, stiff but couldn't stop himself from returning her kiss. Her mouth was soft and warm and inviting.
As she kissed him her hands moved to his pants again and this time worked at the zipper. She slid her hand down the front of his boxers and let out a tiny sigh as her hand encircled his erect penis. Before he knew what was happening she had dropped to her knees in front of him. She pulled his boxers down and licked from the base of his cock to the head, which she took into her mouth and started sucking. Her tongue slid over his teasingly as her mouth, closed around him, provided delicious suction. He closed his eyes and just focused on the sensations as she took more and more of him into her mouth and he was curling his toes and burying his hands in her hair. She must straighten it each morning, because when it was wet it fell in gentle blond waves to her shoulders. Blond. Barbie-blond. Suddenly he remembered where he was. Who he was. Who she was. She must have felt him tense and pull back because suddenly her hands were at his hips, her nails biting into his skin holding him in place as she bobbed her head. He was going to come. Right now, in her mouth, and he hadn't even walked in the door ten minutes ago.