12. Salinger
12
SALINGER
N ext to me in the dark car, Mandy twists her hands in her lap. The diamond earrings cascading down her neck glint in the passing headlights.
The dog sits on the seat between us, snuffling and licking its nose, digging its paws into the leather seat.
I’m trying to concentrate on my pitch, on making sure the evening is a perfect success. Except all I can think about is my assistant in that skintight dress with no panties, on her hands and knees on my living room floor.
It’s infuriating how desirable I found it—the thin fabric of the dress stretched out over her ass, outlining the bare skin underneath. The only thing between me and her cunt. Nothing else.
If she had just done her job right, I wouldn’t be fantasizing about her. This is all her fault. She’s my assistant—she’s a nobody. She has zero sex appeal and is the furthest thing from my type.
Not tonight.
Mandy stares straight ahead, lips pursed, body taut. Every so often, a street light highlights the curve of her breast, exposed in that too-tight dress, framed by a million-dollar necklace, the diamonds slipping over her bare skin. The metal will be cool on my face as I suck the hot, pink…
My jaw clenches so tight a molar is about to crack.
I cannot, will not, am not attracted to my assistant.
The torture of the ride finally ends when the limo pulls up in front of the recently restored Puget Palace Hotel.
As much as I want to walk in and leave her and her dog to fend for themselves, I instead stride stiffly around the back of the limo and open the door for her.
Her lips part like she’s about to thank me, then she stops herself, apparently thinking better of it.
If she bends down again, I’m going to lose it.
Pushing Mandy out of the way, ignoring how soft her skin is under my hand, I grab the dog out of the car and set it down.
The animal flops onto the pavement.
“I need to carry her. She doesn’t like to walk,” Mandy explains, about to bend down again.
“Shocking.”
I beat her to it, scooping the dog back up and tucking her under my arm, offering my other to Mandy.
I hate charity dinners on a good day—all the narcissists patting themselves on the back for giving one percent of their yearly disposable income to a charity run by one of their friends while they spend more than that on their dresses, shoes, and jewelry.
And today had been a terrible day.
The historic ballroom is packed with animals—dogs, cats, birds, rodents. One woman has a monkey perched on her enormous hat. It bares its teeth and screeches at me. In my arms, Pepper barks.
“Where’s Isaacs?” I search the room. “This evening can’t end soon enough. We need to make contact then leave.”
“We can’t just leave—there’s an auction.”
“Are you kidding me? I already gave them half a million dollars. I’m not buying anything, and I’m not staying if Isaacs isn’t here.”
“Don’t worry—he’ll show up.” Mandy is annoyingly chipper.
“I haven’t seen him. You said he was going to be here and he’s not,” I spit, disgusted at the waste of time and money. “The evening is shot. I can already tell.”
“You need to manifest.” Mandy jabs a finger in my side.
I slap her hand away.
“I what?”
Mandy leans in to whisper to me. “You need to think positive and visualize the outcome you want.”
I catch a whiff of her hair—inexplicably, it smells like cookies.
“You need a drink and a snack,” she says. “You’re cranky. I should have fed you before we left the house.”
“I’m a grown man,” I snarl at her as she makes her way to the back of the ballroom where there’s a spread of refreshments. “I don’t need you to feed me.”
“Oh look! There’s mini pretzel dogs that look like little dachshunds.” She picks one off the platter and holds it up in the palm of her hand. “It’s so adorable. Look, it even has a little tail!”
“It’s not—”
She stuffs the appetizer in my mouth.
“How is it? Is there garlic in it? Pepper needs a pick-me-up.”
I chew, hating that she was right. I am actually hungry. “I think so.”
“Sorry, Pepper.” Mandy strokes the dog’s head.
There’s a puddle of drool on my suit. Disgusted, I dump the dog onto the marble floor.
“Sorry about that.” Mandy makes a face and dabs at my suit. “Here, have more snacks. Pepper, remember what I said, please! Let’s keep it together.”
“You know they have a whole table full of dog snacks,” gushes a young woman next to us with an enormous corgi in her arms. “They’re like the most adorable thing ever!”
“Ooh, Pepper! A whole table just for you!” Mandy’s voice has taken on that annoying pitch people use when talking to small children or puppies. “You want a snack, Pepper?”
The dog sits down on my foot.
“Maybe she needs a to-go box,” I hint at Mandy.
“I’ll have my doggie sitter look after her.” Mandy laughs to the younger woman and pats my arm. “They’ve both had a rough evening. It was a trial and a half to get out of the house.”
Ignoring them and the dog on my foot, I resume scanning the room for Isaacs. I don’t even see the woman Mandy said he was dating .
Meanwhile, Mandy and her new best friend—it’s crazy how women could do that—are cooing and squealing over the table of animal-friendly food.
I wonder if she’ll bring me more snacks.
I would get it myself, but Pepper, now curled up on my foot, is trembling slightly now that Mandy’s gone, and I’m afraid if I try to relocate the animal, it would completely lose its shit. Maybe even literally, which really would cut the evening off at the knees.
“What a beautiful creature,” a man remarks beside me.
Isaacs.
I don’t greet him by name. I need to reel him in.
“Are you a fan of corgis?” I ask dryly.
“God no. Can’t stand the little buggers.” He laughs drunkenly. “I didn’t even want to come to this function. Trying to keep the girlfriend happy.”
“Same.”
“She’s a new model.” Isaacs nods his head toward Mandy’s new friend. “Got rid of the last one. She was getting uppity.”
I consider myself a fairly callous man, but the way Isaacs talks about his girlfriends like they’re in the same category as a car is unsettling. It reminds me of my father.
“I might need to upgrade again, though. I’ve never seen a nicer pair of tits on a female.” He jerks his chin toward Mandy.
The possessiveness is immediate. Unyielding. “She’s mine.” I manage to relax my clenched fist before I can punch Isaacs in his gelatinous face.
At my feet, the dog seems to pick up on the tension.
Isaacs’s eyes bug out .
Forcing my shoulders to relax, I add, “It’s just so difficult to find a trustworthy woman nowadays.”
Isaacs lets out a belly laugh then slaps me on the back. “She must be a real good lay to get a reaction like that out of you. The curvy ones are, I think. They’re eager to please—they overcompensate for not being skinny.” He sighs wistfully. “I miss real breasts.”
Christ almighty.
Mandy and Isaacs’s new girlfriend return, loaded down with plates of dog snacks.
Before I can stop her, Mandy bends down in front of Pepper to feed her a cupcake.
Isaacs isn’t even trying to be subtle. He guzzles his wine, his eyes firmly glued to her tits.
It takes all my willpower not to stare too. It’s just that they look like they could fall out any minute. And when she lifts her wine glass to her lips, I can see a pale pink crescent, just begging me to put my mouth on it.
“See? Salinger’s watching Pepper!” The young woman pouts at Isaacs. “You could have watched Matcha.”
Isaacs belches. “I’m a man of means. I don’t dogsit.”
“Salinger has money, and he’s dogsitting.”
“Salinger’s also getting to sleep with a girl who likes putting out and gives him a better performance than a discount sex doll, amiright, Sal?” He slaps me on the back.
“The fuck did you just say about her?” Fuck the contract. I’m going to kill him instead.
Isaacs stammers as I round on him. Then Mandy’s hand is a warm weight on my arm.
I unclench my fist.
“I think Mr. Isaacs is just a little tense, Salinger,” Mandy coos at me, still rubbing my arm. “ Claire was telling me you’re working on a big contract. Something with the port? He’s just blowing off some steam. You can’t say you weren’t doing the same last night.”
Her tone is flirty, and she pokes her tongue out at me.
“You’ll have to excuse him,” Mandy purrs to Isaacs, who melts at her smile. “He’s a big-shot investor, and you know how tightly wound they can be.”
Isaacs chuckles. “Oh, I bet he gives you a workout.”
“You have no idea.”
It isn’t lost on me how his gaze slides down to the mound of cleavage framed by the deep V of her dress then back up to her glossy lips.
“What kind of investing do you do?” Isaacs asks me, eyes still glued to Mandy.
“I’ll grab you boys some more drinks,” Mandy murmurs, excusing herself.
“Big developments. I don’t touch it if it’s less than five hundred million dollars, though I’ve been doing some public-private partnerships. I said I’m not doing any more government work, but then I might be able to be swayed by the right price.”
“Yeah, those government contracts. Too much red tape. But you have experience financing those?” Isaacs rubs his belly.
“Had a whole team dedicated. I was going to move them into another department.” I shrug like I don’t have them all lined up, just waiting for this port contract. “Not sure if there’s anything out there worth keeping the team in place.”
“I don’t know if you heard”—he lowers his voice—“but my firm is doing the new port.”
“Huh. I’ve been hearing about that thing for years. Did it finally go through? ”
Isaacs nods. “I need to line up investors, ones who know what they’re getting into and know how these projects work. I cannot get tied up in litigation on this. I was going to self-finance, but…”
“The interest rates.” I nod sagely. “And they’re being so stingy with revenue bonds these days.”
“Exactly.”
“Let me know if I can help at all. Since your type seems to be girls who love corgis, I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you at these dog-pound functions.”
Isaacs belly-laughs and slaps me on the back again. “Dog-pound functions. You’re hilarious.”
Mandy’s back with the food and more alcohol. Her timing is impeccable. She interrupts before the conversation can peter out, and it ends on a high note.
“Scotch okay, boys?”
I take the glass, slightly warm from her hand, and savor a victory sip.
“Such a lovely, caring girl.” Isaacs takes her hand and kisses it.
The possessiveness is a claw on the back of my neck.
Mandy doesn’t seem put out. “I just like to make sure everyone is comfortable, especially Salinger.” She runs her thumb over my chin.
“You have to take care of a man.” Isaacs shakes a fist. “Women these days don’t seem to understand that.”
“Back rubs. Steak and potatoes for dinner.” Mandy smiles.
“Exactly! Don’t fuck with his food. It’s the little things.” Isaacs picks a piece of steak from the plate she holds, slurps it down. “Delicious. Too bad that and the scotch are the only things worth being here for—present company excluded.” He turns to the other young woman. “Claire, are you ready?”
“We just got here.” His girlfriend pouts.
“Are you ready?” I ask Mandy.
“We are staying for the auction.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.
Isaacs chortles. “I like a woman who takes charge.”
“Someone’s in a better mood,” Mandy whispers to me after Claire drags Isaacs off to look at the auction table.
“Textbook.” A grin spreads across my face. Selecting one of the themed snacks off her plate, I eat a mini hamburger decorated like a turtle, then I reach for another.
Damn, but her tits do look amazing in that dress.
Mandy’s giving me that wide-eyed look again. She quickly stuffs a mini hamburger in her mouth, chewing furiously, when she notices me watching her. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You have mustard on your face,” I lie.
She wipes her mouth and takes a noisy swallow of champagne. “Of course I do,” she mumbles into the glass. “You want to go shopping, Pepper?” she calls to the dog.
“I don’t think she does.”
“Salinger isn’t carrying you,” she warns the dog. “You can’t go through life being carried.”
My arm settles around Mandy’s waist like it was meant to go there, and I escort her to the auction table.
“I need that.” Her voice is reverent, which is completely uncalled for when you’re looking at a giant painting of a corgi wearing a Renaissance doublet and hat with an ostrich feather.
“I’m not buying it. ”
“You have to buy something.” She nudges me. “Do you want another invite?”
“Honestly, no.”
She slaps at my hand.
I ignore her and put my other hand on her waist, fitting my palms under the curve of her ribs. “What’s the smallest and most-inexpensive thing here?”
“This is so adorable.” She holds up a diamond brooch in the shape of a corgi.
“What is America’s fascination with corgis? Also, what part of ‘inexpensive’ did you not understand?”
“It’s a silent auction, so I’m putting your name down for this and that painting.” Her pencil scratches on the card next to the painting.
“No.”
“If you win it, I’ll take it.”
“The fuck you will. You are not putting that up at your desk.”
“We need a third thing.”
“How much did you bid?” I pick up the card. “Fifty grand for that painting? This is criminal.”
“It’s charity. Besides, you have a reputation to uphold.”
“None of this is contributing to my reputation.”
“I’m putting you down for this bag.”
“I don’t need a bag.”
“It’s a dog carrier.”
I pick up Mandy’s dog and hold it up next to the bag. The corgi’s legs splay and its tongue lolls out. “She doesn’t fit. Pick something else.”
“Fine. Tiffany dog collar, it is. ”
“Uh-oh,” remarks a middle-aged man with a friendly-looking woman on his arm. “Looks like someone’s been roped into shopping.”
“He works so late, I feel like I deserve it.” Mandy beams up at me.
My heart jumps. Probably those hamburgers. I bet they used that nasty vegan meat.
“Ooh, medicine? Media?” his wife asks.
“Finance,” Mandy says. “Not anything that exciting. Or useful.”
I can’t resist. “She sings a different tune when it’s time for me to pay her credit card bills.”
Because I want to sell us as a couple—not because I want to feel the soft skin of her neck against my fingertips again—I trail my fingers under her hair, brushing the pads against her neck, sending the diamond earrings dancing.
We chat with the couple for a few minutes, then Mandy’s on to the next guest.
She is, I hate to admit, the perfect corporate date. My assistant seems to know who everyone is as well as their interests, always managing to steer the conversation to a topic they’re excited to talk about. Several people, when they hear I’m in finance, tell me they’ll be in touch.
“We haven’t said hi to Mrs. Dobson yet.” Mandy drags me toward an older woman with a pouf of white hair under her hat.
“We’re not going to talk to the monkey lady.”
“She’s got a big trust fund she’s setting up for her grandchildren. She might need an investor.”
“Ah, Mr. Svensson. And the woman who is behind his very generous donation, I presume.” The elderly woman smiles at Mandy .
The monkey on her hat hisses at me.
“I just love pet charities!” Mandy gushes. “And this is such a wonderful fundraiser.”
“All for a good cause.” The lady is peak old Seattle. Her family has probably been here since the gold rush. “I sense you’re a bit of an animal lover, Mr. Svensson. You don’t seem to just be tolerating Ms. Pepper.”
“I grew up with dogs and horses,” I tell her before I can stop myself.
“He’s a wonderful corgi dad.” Mandy laces her fingers with mine.
There was definitely something wrong with those hamburgers.
“You should see how sweet he is with Pepper when she has a panic attack.”
The dog has legit panic attacks? What the hell?
The elderly woman sighs heavily. The monkey blows a raspberry at me.
“It’s such a rare thing when a man loves your pet like his own child.” She strokes the mangy-looking primate with one bony hand.
“I really lucked out with Salinger.” Mandy squeezes my hand.
I’m pretty sure Mandy’s just fucking with me at this point, but I don’t care. I have an in with Isaacs.
That port contract is mine.