Page 171 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

DIXIE

I have a strange, up-and-down week.

On Monday, Eric’s not in, and I find out he won’t be for a few days, which makes me feel strangely disappointed.

The rest of the day is typical. John walks into my office, pretending like he hadn’t insulted me on Friday, and tells me Kevin’s drawing up a new contract.

Kevin sends me a passive-aggressive email accusing me of sabotaging his business.

I ignore both of them and concentrate on the pile of work in front of me.

The work carries me through Tuesday and Wednesday. And then everything goes to hell on Thursday. The morning goes well enough, but in the afternoon, I manage to completely piss off Xavier Leforte.

It’s not intentional. I’m tracking down some details about SKR Trading, a Thai subsidiary of Leforte, when I spot a series of suspicious transactions, There are seven payments, one every month, starting in January and ending in July, each for two-hundred-thousand dollars.

One-point-four million dollars in total.

That’s a lot of money, and if that wasn’t suspicious enough, at the end of July, Xavier personally wired SKR Trading one-point-four million dollars.

To cover the shortfall?

There are probably a dozen reasons why Xavier reimbursed SKR Trading, but the problem is, most of them are illegal. What is he doing?

According to Xavier’s calendar, he’s not in today, but I call Elisa and find out he’s at the castle. I need to ask him about these transactions, and this isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone. So, I drive over.

Henri greets me at the entrance and walks me up. Xavier looks up when I knock on his office door, and his face cracks into a smile. “Dixie, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He waves me in and gestures to a seat. “What can I do for you?”

I shuffle my feet. “This is an awkward conversation.”

He gestures at me to sit, and then leans back in his chair and folds his hands across his chest. “About Eric?”

“What?” I blink, flustered. “No. I came about these transactions.” I put the sheets of paper in front of him.

“SKR Trading paid someone two-hundred-thousand dollars a month for seven months, starting in January and ending in July. At the end of July, you wrote them a check for one-point-four million dollars. The same amount of money.”

Xavier’s face is expressionless. “Hmm.”

That’s not a promising reaction. I lean forward. “Xavier, bribery is illegal. American law is very clear about this. It doesn’t matter if the transactions took place outside the United States.”

He looks up. “I’m not bribing anyone.”

There is a warning in his tone, but as much as I want to drop the matter, I cannot. “Xavier, as your Corporate Counsel, I have to warn you that?—”

He holds up his hand to stop me. “Dixie, you're like a damn bulldog,” he snaps. “This is a private matter. Let it go.” He gets to his feet. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have something I need to attend to.”

I get to my feet, stunned. I’ve just got kicked out of my boss’ office.

On my way out, I spot Kiera, who’s working in the cafe. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I accuse her. I’m still feeling shell-shocked. I’ve been working at Leforte Enterprises since February. I’ve never once seen Xavier lose his calm.

If you’d known what his reaction would have been, what would you have done?

Nothing different. Xavier gave me a very generous sign-on bonus when I started, and my salary is more than adequate, but I’m not going to break the law for him. Professional ethics matter. Doing the right thing is important.

Kiera’s finishing up a shift at the cafe. I wait until she’s done, and then the two of us get lemonade on the patio. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I tell her. “What’s going on with you?”

It turns out that Kiera is having guy problems. She’s having a crisis of confidence about Nolan and Caleb, which seems ridiculous, because they’re obviously nuts about her.

I focus on her troubles as a way to avoid mine, offer her some unsolicited advice, and when she asks me what’s going on between me and Eric and Hunter, I lie and tell her they annoy me.

Xavier finds me before I have a chance to escape. “I owe you an apology,” he says, a little stiffly. “I was rude.”

I don’t know how to reply. He was rude, but he’s also my boss, and I did just accuse him of bribery. I make a joke about how a bottle of champagne will soothe my feelings, but Xavier takes me seriously and has Henri fetch a bottle from his personal cellar.

Apology or not, I’m pretty sure I’ve blown my chances. So much for getting the COO job.

I determinedly try not to think about work on my drive back home. Instead, I go over my conversation with Kiera. I lied to my friend about Eric and Hunter. I didn’t tell her about the fantasy they fulfilled, and I didn’t tell her about our arrangement. Nope, I left all of that out.

I don’t like lying to my friends, and there’s no reason not to tell Kiera the truth. Why don’t I? I ask myself that question and I don’t like the answer.

I was in a threesome Saturday night. Sure, we might not have gone all the way, but that’s a technicality.

I was naked in the back seat of a car, and they were clothed.

Hunter thrust his fingers inside me and made me orgasm while I sucked Eric’s cock, and then Eric ate me out while I went down on Hunter.

It should have felt dirty and sleazy, but it hadn’t. I liked it so much I’m doing it again. (Though I don’t know when. Neither Hunter nor Eric has texted me with plans, and I’m trying—unsuccessfully—not to fret about it.)

Whether I’m ready to admit it to myself or not, I’m now the kind of woman that does threesomes.

Mrs. Grace would probably call me a Jezebel.

My mother would definitely disapprove. What would my brother Michael think?

Jessica? I very much doubt they’ll be ecstatic or even accepting.

Would they stop me from visiting Jonathan and Dylan?

This is casual, remember? Nobody has to know.

Still, there’s no reason not to confide in my friends. None of them are strangers to unconventional lifestyles. They won’t judge me; they’ll be supportive.

Yet I keep quiet. Because it turns out that despite my bravado Saturday night, those throwaway words that my ex- fiancé William had flung my direction still have power over me. I’m ashamed of my desires. Society doesn’t need to judge me—I’m judging myself.

Lying to Kiera isn’t the only horrible thing I do that week. I know I should go to HR and tell them that I’m seeing Eric. Eric and I are technically peers, and sleeping with him isn’t a violation of company policy (I checked), but I do have to disclose it.

But HR isn’t an anonymous, faceless division.

The head of HR is Hira. Who is my friend.

Who knows about my ‘date’ Saturday night.

She’ll be curious about the details. When she figures out that Eric was involved, she’ll be even more thirsty for gossip.

And if she finds out that Eric was only one of the two guys there?

Argh.

It’s casual sex, I tell myself again. We’re not dating. I don’t have to tell HR.

But I’m splitting hairs. I’m skating by on technicalities. Xavier knows about Saturday night. If he happens to mention it to Hira, I don’t even want to think about her reaction.

So much risk, and for what? Good sex?

Great sex, I correct. Still, is it really worth it? I’m the General Counsel for a large multi-national corporation. It’s a prestigious job. The salary is exceedingly generous. I’m steadily paying down the medical debt I incurred. Why am I recklessly throwing it all aside for Hunter and Eric?

Because you felt safe telling them your fantasies. Because they made you feel seen.

I shake my head violently. I should call this off. That would be the practical, sensible thing to do.

Then Hunter texts me on Thursday. ‘ Do you have plans for Saturday night?’

This is the perfect opportunity to tell him I’ve been having second thoughts. I should do that.

‘No,’ I write back. ‘I’m free.’

‘Good. Think about your next fantasy, Dixie. I’ll be in touch.’

That’s maddeningly vague.

I can’t wait.

I’m not looking forward to work on Friday. After my disastrous meeting with Xavier, I’m not exactly eager to run into him at the weekly huddle. Kevin’s still grumbling about his contract; John is his usual snide self.

If there was ever a day to call in sick, today would be the day.

I drag myself in anyway. Eric knocks at my door thirty minutes later, two cups of coffee in his hands. “Caramel macchiato, extra whipped cream,” he announces.

A smile breaks out on my face. His hair is sticking up at odd angles. He looks adorably rumpled, and I’m ridiculously delighted to see him. It’s almost as if I’ve missed him this week.

God, I’m in trouble.

“Ooh, yes.” I make greedy hands at him, and he laughs and hands me the paper cup. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“No reason.” A faint smile creases his face. “Okay, fine, I’m bribing you.” He shuts my door and sits down in a chair across from me. “The Unplug transactions lead to a shell company—XPM—that Xavier supposedly owns.”

“I should have known there’s no such thing as a free coffee,” I comment wryly, softening my words with a smile. “No luck tracking the ownership down?”

He shakes his head. “Brody’s been working on it, but they’re not getting anywhere.”

I look up, surprised. “Lockhart & Payne have a financial forensics team now? They didn’t when I worked there.”

“It’s new,” he explains. “Anyway, they’ve been trying to track things down, but they’re not getting anywhere. Leforte Enterprises is too complicated.”

I can’t disagree with him. When I got here, every subsidiary just did their own thing. Contracts weren’t standardized. It was a lawyer’s worst nightmare. It’s taken me six months of hard effort to get them to fall in line, and people like Kevin still fight me at every turn.

“I thought Brody’s team could do the legwork, but that’s not working out.” He grimaces. “I was hoping this would be a simple case of fraud. An employee got greedy, took advantage of the lack of controls, and embezzled money from Leforte. But XPM is registered in Xavier’s name, which means?—”

“Someone’s trying to get him in trouble.”

“Exactly. You know the business. Will you help me?”

I bite my lip. “Are you sure Xavier wants my help? I asked him about some dodgy transactions yesterday, and he nearly bit my head off.”

“Did he?” He rolls his eyes. “He’s always touchy about Layla. Did he apologize, or should I beat him up?”

That forces a laugh out of me. “He explained about the transactions, and yes, he apologized. I got a very nice bottle of champagne out of it.”

“Good,” he replies. “Well? Will you help?”

Working long hours with Eric. I should decline. After all, tracking down financial crime isn’t in my job description. “Of course,” I say instead. “I have meetings all morning, but do you want to get together this afternoon after the weekly huddle?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t,” he says regretfully. “Xavier and I are golfing with Jack Achard and Harry Gifford. Thank you for going through those contracts, by the way.”

Achard & Gifford is an advertising agency that Leforte is in the process of buying. I look outside. The sun is shining, there’s not a cloud in the sky, and it’s about as perfect of a late summer day as you could ask for. “Yes, poor you.”

He grins. “Fair enough. You want to take my place? I loathe golf.”

“I can’t play,” I tell him. “Besides, I have too much work to do. Kevin Hughes is still whining about his contract.”

I can’t help but notice he didn’t answer my question about whether Xavier wanted my help. What does my boss think about this? Is he on board? Or, after my screwup yesterday, am I really on borrowed time?

Shortly after lunch, Elisa sends out a message canceling this week’s huddle. I use the extra time as an opportunity to power through my mailbox. I’m replying to an email from Reena when Andie knocks on my door. “It’s time for Happy Hour,” she says meaningfully. “Come on, Dixie.”

“No way. It can’t be five.” I glance at the bottom of my laptop screen. Andie’s right. “Okay, fine. Let me finish up this email, and I’ll leave.” She looks skeptical. “I promise.”

True to my word, I pull into El Trompo’s parking lot. I know Eric’s not going to be there, and there’s no reason Hunter should be there either—after all, he doesn’t work for Leforte—but I still scan the lot for their cars and feel silly about it.

The frantic workload of the last few months is easing off, and people can sense that the end is in sight. Everyone’s in a good mood today. I stay later than intended, nursing my drink, enjoying the company and the conversation.

It’s almost eight when I get up to leave. I detour to the bar to leave a tip for the staff and then head out.

I’m almost at my car when I notice Hunter’s Datsun parked next to mine.

My pulse speeds up. I approach the driver’s side, and Hunter rolls down the window. “We were hoping to run into you,” he says. “Get in, Dixie.”

Eric’s in the passenger seat. I slide into the back, anticipation dancing through my bloodstream. Hunter was right—there’s not much room here. “Are we going somewhere?”

“No,” Eric replies. He swivels around to look at me. “We have an assignment for you.”

“I get homework now?” I intend the words to be a grumble, but my voice is breathy, and I sound exactly as I feel. Eager. Excited. Ready.

“Mm-hmm. Tonight, when you get home, go online, and pick out three sex toys you want us to use on you tomorrow.”

A thrill runs through me. “Umm, what?”

Eric’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Do you need me to explain the concept of online shopping, Dixie?”

Mrs. Grace’s voice in my ear reminds me I can’t give him the finger. “I didn’t realize sex toy stores had overnight shipping,” I say sweetly.

“You don’t have to buy them,” Hunter replies. “Just pick them out and let us know what they are. We’ll take care of the rest.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Unless you want to go into a physical store instead?”

I could never. Everyone would be looking at me. I would die of embarrassment. “Online is fine,” I say hastily.

Eric grins. “We’ll call you at ten tonight,” Hunter says, his voice low and tight. “That’s how long you have to choose.”

That gives me less than two hours. “And if I don’t?”

Eric tilts his head slightly. “If you don’t, Dixie,” he murmurs. “There will be consequences.”

A full-body shiver runs through me. “Okay,” I whisper.

All week, I’ve wondered if I should call this thing off, but that’s Old Dixie talking.

New Dixie isn’t going to apologize for her desires.

Sex toys, here I come.