Darling Nikki Ch. 05

I blinked, shook my head violently and turned around as quickly as I could. I stammered and stuttered, but finally found a coherent sentence in all the confused crap running through my head.

"Nikki! Where're your clothes? You're naked!"

I heard a sharp laugh, then she said, "I always shower naked, Daddy. And after the party, I figured you'd seen it all, so I might as well make one trip to the laundry room instead of two."

"You shouldn't walk around naked in front of me."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it-"

She cut me off with another laugh. "Fine, Daddy. If it bugs you that much I'll keep my naughty bits covered. I won't embrace the freedom of not having to put on any damned clothes in my own damned house. But just for you, Daddy. And if you come home sometime and I'm naked, don't throw a fit. I'll just go and get dressed so you're not over there about to have a brain aneurysm."

When the shower started up I turned back to the cutting board and got back to work on breakfast. Cussing up a storm under my breath.

I was turning from the stove back to the island to get the chopped-up bacon and bell peppers when Nikki came out of the bathroom in nothing but that damned towel, which barely covered the join of her legs. A strange look on her face - part challenge maybe, part triumph? - as she sauntered through the kitchen and up the stairs.

I resolutely turned back to my cooking, refusing to allow myself to watch her as she went upstairs.

Lots more mumbled cussing.

I was just dishing out the southwestern omelets when Nikki came back downstairs, got a cup of coffee and sat down.

"Breakfast is served, Princess."

"Why thank you, Your Majesty. It smells heavenly."

As we ate, something that had been percolating around the back of my mind bubbled to the surface.

"What do you have planned for today, Nikki?"

"Looks like a nice day. Figured I'd work on my tan some. Then maybe lay around and goof off for awhile, followed by some vigorous doing nothing."

I chuckled. "Sorry to spoil your plans, baby. I've got a chore I need you to handle. I need you to start clearing out the junk room."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why? We never use it."

"This weekend got me thinking about a lot of stuff. And one of the reasons, I think, that I was in such a deep funk for so long, is that with the exception of your Mom not being there, the room is exactly the same as it was before she passed. I..." I sat back in my chair and just thought for a minute or two.

"I think that maybe because I haven't changed a damn thing since her death, a large part of me hasn't actually realized she's not here anymore. I have no desire to get rid of our stuff. Hell, I don't think I can get rid of any of our stuff. But I want to move the bedroom stuff into the junk room and set it up as a second guest room. I think...maybe...that by making an external show of finally accepting her death, I can start internally healing and moving on. So I'll need to get a new bed and stuff, and-" my breath hitched, "box up her clothes and give 'em away to charity or something and pack away the stuff of hers that neither of us use, but that I can't bear to take out of the house."

Tears running down her cheeks, Nikki came around the table to sit sidesaddle on my lap and wrapped me up in tight hug, crying softly. I stroked her wet hair and rocked back and forth a little.

"Would all that be ok with you, Nikki?"

"Oh, Daddy," she breathed. "I think that's the healthiest thought you've had in a long time. I think it's a really good idea. You need a change. And I think that's just the kind of change you need. I'll do whatever you need me to do."

She squeezed me real tight again and we shared some happy tears.

Finally, though, she went back to her own chair and resumed her breakfast. "Whoever put that thought into your head, Daddy?"

"Probably your momma. She always was smarter than me."

"Daddy, you've got a masters in Mechanical Engineering. You're plenty smart."

"I am extremely smart. Which should tell you just how smart your mom was. She could always out-think me."

I noticed the time and wolfed down the rest of my breakfast. "Can you handle the clean-up, sweetie? I've got to shower and take off."

"I've got everything, Daddy. What time you plan on being home?"

"Some time this afternoon, I guess. Love you, baby." I kissed the top of her head and hurried off to get ready.

* * *

Forty-five minutes I later I pulled into the parking lot of Innovative Solutions, the engineering and manufacturing shop Dana owned. I was about five minutes later than I'd have liked, which meant it was 7:50am. But, as usual, Dana's red 2015 Nissan Z was already in the lot.

As I went in the front door Dana called me from her office and waved me over. She set down the printout she'd been looking at, came around her desk and gave me a hug, then stepped back and looked me over, a quizzical expression on her lovely face.

Head to toe she examined me. Then toe to head. She stepped back and looked me over again from about three feet away, then walked a complete circle around me. After another moment or so she leaned her butt on the edge of her desk, crossed her ankles, crossed her arms, and ran a fingertip lightly over her lips.

"There's something different..." she mumbled.

I can only blame the resurrected teenaged boy in my head, but as she leaned there looking me over, I looked her over right back. And I saw her. I mean, really saw her the first time in, well, ever.

She had thick, healthy - luxuriant even - wavy medium brown hair that fell to just below her shoulders and framed her lovely face quite nicely. She looked a bit like Hedy Lamarr with a thinner face. Not as glamorous, but very, very pretty. And just as smart. She was wearing a pair of purple glasses that day, but I could still clearly see her eyes. They were so blue they were almost violet.

She was wearing a charcoal grey and black pinstriped business suit. It flared a bit at the cuffs, cinched tightly around her waist. She had on a matching pencil skirt that ended just above her knees. Her designer suit looked like it had been tailored for her trim frame. Which I consciously noted for the first time in my life was a very appealing frame.

She was naturally tall and leggy, and oh my, what nice legs! The deep purple four-inch Louis Vuitton slingback heels put her about an inch shorter than me and did simply amazing things for her calves. The shoes also perfectly matched both her eyeglasses and the purple silk shirt she wore under her jacket.

Wow. I never realized Dana was so beautiful. Why am I noticing it now?

"Yeah, there's something differe-HOLY SHIT! You got laid, didn't you?"

I turned so red I was practically fucking glowing, and I started stammering like a moron to boot!

She laughed, clapped her hands together - she actually clapped her hands together! - squealed, and hugged me again, tighter than she ever had before. "Oh, Jesse, I'm so happy for you!"

She hugged me again, then stepped back and slid up onto her desk. Wow, that was surprisingly sexy, I thought. She crossed her ankles again, her right foot popping the back of her shoe off her heel, then back on, back off; it was almost hypnotic.

"So do I know her?"

"Huh?"

She laughed again. "Come on, Jesse. You're more articulate than that. Do I know her?"

"Uh...I...uh." I cleared my throat. "I don't know how to answer that question."

She laughed again.

"Isn't there a project you wanted me to help with?" Pointing to the printout on her desk, which was partially under her shapely butt -- sigh - I continued. "Are those the project details? Lemme see." For fuck's sake my voice was an octave higher than usual and cracking like I was back in puberty!

Dana laughed so hard she nearly toppled over, sending her right shoe sailing across the room when she kicked her legs to regain her balance. Giggling, still, she said, "Fuck the project, this is more important!"

Seeing me so obviously flustered tickled her no end, but she finally took compassion on me and slid carefully off her desk and handed me the project specs then went and retrieved her shoe.

Her hand on my bicep, she squeezed softly, smiling at the employees arriving for work. "Go. Get to work. We'll take a late lunch today 'cause I don't wanna rush it. I've got some details to dig out of you."

She backhanded my belly, spun me around and gently pushed me out the door.

Throughout the morning I could hear her giggle occasionally, and if I looked up, invariably she'd be eyballing me. She'd giggle harder, give me a wink, and get back to work.

Shit. I had not expected this.

When the rest of the folks got up to go grab some lunch I grabbed my phone, headed for the workshop and found a little-used closet and hid.

Frantically, I called Nikki.

"Hey Daddy, how's work?"

"A fucking disaster. She knows, Nikki. She fucking knows! She wants to take me to lunch and find out who!"

"What? Are you drunk, Daddy? Who knows what?"

"DANA! She knooooows! Took her about 30 seconds after she saw me this morning and knew I'd had sex. What the fuck? Is it some super power you women have? What do I do?"

All I heard was laughter, a thump, and more laughter.

"Fucking HELL!"

Fuck. I hung up. I couldn't hide in the closet all day. Sighing and grumbling I stepped out, only to see Dana about six feet away, casually leaning against the wall, right shoulder propping it up, arms and ankles crossed again, and a really irritatingly smug smirk on her lips.

"Motherfucker." I think I mumbled that softly enough she didn't hear me.

I raised my head high, salvaged the remaining tatters of my dignity and headed for the office. The wench fell in step with me.

"So. Was that your lover?"

"NO! I really don't want to talk about this."

She snickered. "Well, let's see. We're having lunch later." She tossed me a very stern look. "You're not getting out of that. And you're housing and restoring a 1932 Ford Coupe at my house. We'll be working on it together...." her voice trailed off, that smug smirk back on her face. "How often will you be at my place to work on it? Especially once Nikki's freshmen classes start? Probably a few times a week, yeah? So I'll have all that time to pester you. To bug you. To dig and pry and discover your secrets. You know I'll find out. I always do. You could never keep secrets from Meg, and you could never keep them from me. So you want to make it easier on yourself and just tell me over lunch?"

She laughed again when I muttered "gods damn it," and went back to her office.

Remember how I told Svetlana I had amazing amounts of self-control? I got lots of work done that day. Would've gotten more done if a big chunk of my brain weren't panicking over my upcoming interrogation session. But still. I got a lot done!

* * *

How do I get myself into situations like this?

What situations like this? You've never been in this situation before!

The specifics are new, but I've had determined, inquisitive women all curious about my business before.

It's probably because you spent the weekend letting Junior make all your decisions, dumbass!

* * *

At two o'clock Dana strolled over to my desk, the click click click of her heels sounding like a firing squad chambering rounds for me.

"Come on, Jesse. We're going to lunch." She dragged me toward the door. "Midge, I'm out for the rest of the day. Have a good night, and see you tomorrow."

"See you, Ms. Carruthers. Good day, Mr. Crowley."

As I started for my ride Dana grabbed my arm with an "Uh-uh, I'm driving," and pulled me toward her Z.

Fuck.

She got in, started her up, and pressed a button on the dash. The hard top immediately began folding up. She turned her satellite radio to a Metal station, cranked up the volume, grinned saucily at me, and away we went.

As we drove to lunch she screamed along with In This Moment, Avenged Sevenfold, and Disturbed, and Dorothy. She'd occasionally look over at me, giggle again, and go back to screaming lyrics. Dana's a great girl but she can't carry a tune in a bucket.

It only took about ten minutes to get to the fancy Mexican restaurant in town, El Sol Naciente.

Motherfucker! Yelena's family owns this place. Is she working today? MotherFUCKER!

She hopped out of the car, black Versace clutch purse in hand, and strode purposefully for the door, yelling at me over her shoulder. "Hurry your ass up, cowboy, I'm hungry!"

Resigned to my fate, and steeling my resolve to somehow get out of this, I hurried to catch up.

She slowed up enough for me to hold the door, and as I followed her in, I heard Yelena call out, "Mr. Crowley!"

MotherFUCKER!

Nikki's Latino sexpot friend bounced over a gave me a hug. "How are you, Ms. Carruthers? How's Nikki, Mr. Crowley? Is she joining y'all?"

"Just the two of us today, sweetie," I replied. "Give her a call later, though. Pretty sure she doesn't have anything going on tonight."

"Great. Maybe I'll see you later," she said as she put menus on our table. "Bye!"

I held Dana's chair for her, then sat in my own, hastily putting my menu in front of my face in a desperate - futile, I'm sure - attempt to stave off the inevitable. Dana took a breath, to ask me something or tease me, I'm sure, when Yelena came back over with two glasses of water for us.

"Isabella's running some food. She'll be over in a minute. Can I get y'all some drinks in the meantime?"

I waited for Dana, who ordered a glass of Pino Grigio, then ordered an Angry Orchard for myself. I noticed Dana watching Yelena intently as she walked away.

She turned back to me, the smug smirk back on her lips. "Did you notice? Or were you too busy hiding from me?"

I sighed. "Notice what?"

"Between seating us and bringing us that water, she unbuttoned one button on her shirt. Making those massive tits a little more obvious." She cocked her head to the side. "How did you not notice that?"

"Dana, I-"

She cut me off by raising my menu back to my face, while turning her attention to her own.

I met Dana the same day I met Meg, the first day of school. Like I think I said, I fell in love with Megan in kindergarten, but that doesn't mean I didn't pay attention to or like Dana. Those two were inseparable. Closer than sisters despite being "only" cousins. Their dads were identical twins and when they married the girls' moms, they'd bought houses next door to each other. The girls grew up together and did everything together.

I liked Dana well enough. The three of us were pretty good friends. But when I finally got up the courage to ask Meg out, I couldn't. I could never find her without Dana. EVER! I finally paid Bobby Fischer to tell Dana that Coach Judy wanted to see her. When she took off, that's when I finally asked Meg out.

But all our lives Meg and Dana both were always able to twist me up, wind me up, spin me around, and run circles around me. I knew I was fucked. All I could do now was damage control and try to keep the fallout from getting the girls.

Yelena dropped off some chips and salsa and this time I noticed. Yep. Her amazing cleavage was a bit more on display. She was very careful to lean over in such a way as to give me a really good view. Junior appreciated that view. Damn it.

Dana dipped a chip in the salsa and crunched it up, then took a sip of water and said, "I'm thinking I might have the steak fajitas today, and Jorge makes them better than anyone else. But I'm also kind of in the mood for a Chicken Enchilllada. I can't quite make up my mind. If you and your new lover aren't exclusive, you should give serious consideration to tapping Yelena's delicious ass. She's throwing out some strong signals. Even you should be picking up on them. But I think maybe I'll go with the fajitas. I feel like I need some good red meat today. What do you think?"

I don't know if she somehow planned it, or if the universe had simply decided to help Dana fuck with me, but I was taking a sip of my water when she mentioned tapping Yelena's ass.

A couple of minutes later, after I had finished coughing up the water I'd inhaled, I retrieved the glass from the floor and set it back on the table.

The bitch just sat there the whole time, nose in her menu until I got myself under control, whereupon she said, "You ok?" I could fucking hear the grin on her smug face.

Fucking hell.

Coughing just a little more, I wiped my chin with my napkin and tried fruitlessly to dry my shirt. Giving up, I turned my attention to Dana.

"So why do you think I've 'gotten laid'?" I practically hissed that at her. And yes, I know that "gotten laid" has no sibilants, but I don't care. I fucking hissed it! "Why do you think I should tap that ass? And why do you think she's interested?"

Isabella came over just then with a fresh glass of water for me and our drinks, asking if I was alright. After getting our order and removing my empty glass she left us alone again. I damned near begged her to stay.

Dana was about to speak again when my phone rang. It was Nikki. Hallelujah it was Nikki! "Excuse me, Dana, I've got to take this." I beat a hasty retreat and stepped outside.

"Nicholette Freya, you better not fucking laugh again. This is serious!"

"Calm down, Daddy." As she laughed. Damn it. "How'd your lunch go?"

"Just starting, damn it."

"Relax. Aunt Dana's practically momma's twin. I bet she's giddy that you finally got it stuck in."

"She's giddy at the prospect of grilling me over hot coals and making me spill my deep dark secrets! How do I get out of this?"

"You don't. Give her details; just no names and no descriptions that would give away identities. Easy."

"Easy? Easy? Easy for you to say 'easy.' You're not the one she's gonna hit with sodium pentathol and use thumbscrews on."

"Daddy, I promise it'll be ok. Just go talk to her, stop freaking out, don't give names, and enjoy your lunch. Give her enough to satisfy her curiosity and she'll move on. I love you. Have fun, and I'll see you when you get home. I'm off to Tai Chi."

And she was gone. Damn it. Did she not realize how precarious this was? I stopped a second. Was it? Or would Dana actually even care if she knew the whole truth? I mean, she has as sick and twisted a sense of humor as I do, and Meg did, and as broad a mind as you'll find anywhere. Maybe she won't give a shit.

It's not like she'd tell anyone, even if she was horrified. I've never known a woman to keep her cards so close to the chest. Hell, when she and Brad divorced I didn't find out that she'd kicked him out for fucking expensive male hookers until a year or so later. From one of Brad's friends. I don't think she minded the hookers so much as she minded him lying to her about it. Still, she keeps her knowledge to herself most times.

A little less worried, but still plenty trepidatious, I went back to our table.

"You seem a bit less panicked. Good. Maybe now we can actually talk." She waited for me to nod. "Good. I know you wet your wick because in the two years since Meg's death the nicest thing I ever saw you wear to the office was a new pair of shorts and a new Star Wars T-shirt. Today you're wearing jeans and a shirt with actual buttons. Your walk was far more relaxed instead of that hunched-shoulder shuffle you usually use, and your stance presence were far more confident."