30. Salinger
30
SALINGER
M andy isn’t at her desk when I return from my meeting.
“Where is she?”
Her friend gives me a critical look. “She had to pop downstairs for a bit. She’s making copies.”
“Copies.”
Apprehension prickles, along with the urge to race outside and drive around until I find her.
That’s crazy. She’s in the office somewhere. She didn’t take the dog with her—she’s probably messing with the interns.
She’s not in the print room. Or on the roof deck. I try the break rooms.
In the sixteenth-floor break room, several interns are gathered, not working.
“Where is she?” I growl.
Austin yelps. The other interns scatter like roaches, leaving Austin to face me alone.
“Who?” he asks.
“Mandy.”
“I—I—haven’t seen her today—oh god, don’t kill me.”
“You better not be lying to me, donut boy.”
“I’m not, I swear,” he babbles. His hands cover his panicked face.
My lip curls. “Disgusting. I can’t believe you’re still here.”
“I was about to quit, but Mandy’s been working with me on manifestation exercises and professional strategies, and it worked! I brought in a contract. It’s the old lady that lives next door to my parents. She always likes when I visit her because her daughter-in-law is mean and won’t let her see her grandkids.”
“Of course it was Mandy’s doing.”
Austin nods enthusiastically. “She’s amazing!”
“Hm. How much?”
“Two million.”
“Not bad.”
“Really?” he squeaks. “Do I still get credit?” He’s hopeful.
“Only if you don’t quit between now and the fall.”
Austin gives me a shaky smile as he skirts around me.
I take the stairs up two at a time, not bothering with the elevator.
Mandy is out in the city alone somewhere, without even that useless dog to keep her company. What if something happened to her? What if I’ve just missed saving her, all because I was wasting time on Austin ?
If anything has happened to her, I am going to get rid of whoever hurt her, then I am going after Austin for good measure.
I careen around the switchback of the stair and almost crash into Mandy. Grabbing her around the waist, I spin us on the landing. Her mouth makes a little O when she realizes it’s me. In her hand is a huge cup of coffee.
I don’t try to keep the fury from my face.
Mandy backs up, struggling against me. “I just needed coffee. I just went down the street. The line was really long, and I’m not going to steal someone’s coffee—and I did put in a mobile order, but it was the wrong size, and you’re overreacting. Nothing happened.”
I pin her against the wall.
She breathes, “You’re hurting me.”
“I’m not, but I will.” I grab her jaw. “I told you not to go out. I explicitly told you.”
“You don’t own me.”
“Yes”—I force my knee between her legs—“I do.”
She swallows, and I feel it in her neck under my palm. “He wasn’t there. I didn’t see him.”
“When are you going to tell me who he is?”
Her eyes flick away. “I told you—”
“And I told you. No one touches what is mine.” I crush my mouth to hers.
She lets out a little cry.
“You don’t understand.” I hiss the words against her mouth as she gasps, her body straining against me. “You belong to me.”
“You’re crazy.”
I undo the shirt, familiar with the buttons, my mouth still on hers as I cup my hands around her soft, full breasts .
“I thought the point of this shirt was so you wouldn’t— ohhh .” She moans as I suck on her nipple, nipping it slightly with my teeth.
I need to stop, but it’s too late. I want all of her, need her—need to make her know that she’s mine now. Her neck is smooth where I nuzzle it, her body yielding under my hands. I can’t even blame it on the dark and the night and the stress. It’s the middle of the day, and I want to fuck her in the stairwell of my office building.
When I try to work them under the tight skirt, Mandy pushes my hands away. Her face is flushed, and she’s panting. Her hands, much smaller than my own, are still on my wrists. They don’t stop me when I reach for her waist again. “Someone could see…”
I silence her protests with another kiss, sliding my hands down her hips to cup her ass then grab her thighs under the silky skirt fabric. “Then you better tell me what I want to know.”
She gasps as I push the skirt up to her hips.
I can smell her desire. The familiar fabric of the panties is wet under my fingers. “I could fuck you just like this.”
She’s pushing at my chest now. I let her force me away, watch her as she hurries to adjust her clothes.
Using two fingers, I tilt her chin up. “You’re moving in with me until this situation is resolved.”
She slaps my hand away. “I’m fine.”
“It won’t be long. You’ll fuck up eventually, and I’ll find out who he is.”
“You need to stay out of my business.” She tries to step around me.
I grab her arm. “You work for me—that makes you my business. ”
“You just want me there so you can make me have some sort of mental breakdown.”
“You’re doing that all by yourself.”
Her eyes flash as she turns back to me. “You always have an angle, Salinger. You want me beholden to you so I’ll humiliate myself and sleep with you. And I’ll be another conquest you can add to your trophy case.”
“Not to pat myself on the back, but it would not be a humiliating experience for you. Addictive? Life-changing? Sure.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because I can. Because you can’t.”
“So you just want to lord your superiority over me.”
“Something like that.” I gaze down at her. “If you want to pretend like you have agency in this situation, that’s fine. Be my guest. Still doesn’t change the fact that when I leave here at seven thirty, you’re coming with me.”
The main overhead lights are off in the office. Outside, it’s dark. Rain patters lightly against the windowpanes.
When I first moved to Seattle, I didn’t think I would ever get used to the amount of rain, so different from the desert compound my brothers and I were raised in.
But then one day, I did.
Mandy’s sitting at her desk, bathed in the soft light of her desk lamp. She doesn’t acknowledge me when I step out of the office. Brushing her hair back, I kiss her neck, her jaw, her mouth. If her skirt wasn’t so tight, I would force her legs apart and stroke her through the panties.
I settle for sliding my hand down the unbuttoned dress shirt to cup her breasts. “You ready to go? ”
“I can’t. I have to go back to my apartment.”
“No, you don’t.”
She turns in her chair. “I don’t even have any underwear.”
I undo the next button on the dress shirt. “I don’t mind you walking around my penthouse in just one of my shirts.”
“God, I can’t believe I’m even acting like I’m going to stay with you.”
Grabbing the front of the shirt, I half pull her out of the seat to snarl in her face. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. So if you need your underwear, I’ll take you back to your apartment, and you can pack a bag. You’ll have five minutes, by the way, then I’m locking you in my penthouse for the rest of the weekend.”
She drops back in the seat with a whoosh of air.
“Get your purse, get your dog, get all your bags. We’re leaving. You can keep working from my study.”
My phone rings. I ignore it.
Mandy slowly starts packing up her laptop.
Keeping my eye on her, I go into my office to grab my own things. My phone rings again, then the text messages pour in.
McCarthy: Where are you?
Whitman: There’s a situation…
Fitz: Don’t freak out.
Faulkner: Dude, answer your phone.
Whitman: You need to pick up. I need to talk to you.
“What happened?” I demand as soon as Fitz answers the phone.
“Like I said, don’t freak out. ”
“Too fucking late.” Then I realize. “Where’s Hawthorne? He didn’t send a text—where is he?”
For a second, images of accidents and muggings gone wrong flash in my head. Maybe Hawthorne had a heart attack or something and died, and he was just found. When did I last hear from him? This morning?
“Where is he?” I demand.
“Who, Salinger? Christ, can you just focus for one minute?” Fitz pauses to yell at someone in the room.
“He’s so ADD.” I hear Faulkner.
“Where is Hawthorne?” I demand.
“Dude.” Hawthorne’s voice comes through on the phone. “You are wound way too tight. You need to chill out.”
“What’s the emergency?” I try to still the panic. It’s an overreaction. I’m overreacting, I try to reassure myself.
But I can’t lose my little brothers. I’ll literally go insane.
“Just come to McCarthy’s place. You’ll see once you get here.” Hawthorne sounds troubled.
Even if they’re all alive, something is wrong. Something bad. I need to go to my brothers.
What do I do with Mandy, though?
My assistant has her laptop bag over her shoulder. Pepper is waiting in her chair.
“I just want you to know I need more than five minutes to pack everything,” she says. “Some of my clothes aren’t clean. I need to do laundry.”
“I have a washing machine.”
“I wasn’t sure if laundry was included in the weekend-prisoner package.” Her tone is acerbic.
I run my hand through my hair, which I usually try not to do so I don’t mess it up.
“What’s wrong?” Mandy’s suddenly concerned.
“My brothers…”
“Oh no.” There’s real concern on her face. She grabs my arm. “What happened? Are they hurt?”
“I don’t know. They’re being cagey. Something’s wrong, though.”
“Just go to them. I can go pick up my own clothes.”
I’m torn. I don’t want to leave her alone, but my little brothers are everything. All I’ve ever done, no matter how terrible, has been for them.
“You have to come straight back to my penthouse,” I warn. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“It will be fine. Honest. I haven’t heard from J— him at all.” She almost slips up and says the name. “I’ll be fine. Girl Scout’s honor.”
“Fine,” I spit out.
She beams. “Pepper and I will see you later.”
“No. Leave the dog. I’m keeping her as collateral.”
“Seriously?”
I hold out my hand. She begrudgingly hands me Pepper’s leash.
“I shouldn’t be long,” she promises.
“You have a corgi!” Fitz exclaims when he opens the door to McCarthy’s penthouse.
Pepper immediately starts barking at him.
“Pepper, hush.”
Fitz bends down to pet her. “Hi, Pepper! Why’d you name her that?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Not your concern. ”
“You didn’t steal this puppy, did you?” Fitz clutches Pepper like she’s he’s first-born child.
“No one in their right mind would steal that dog. She’s neurotic.”
“Then whose is it?” Fitz won’t let it go.
“It’s my assistant’s,” I hiss out. “I’m dogsitting.”
“Oh my god, Seward was right.”
“Seward? Why are you talking to my concierge?”
“We’re poker buddies. He says he thinks your biological clock is ticking.”
“What is the emergency?” I demand, setting my briefcase down on the floor.
“Right to business, huh? Don’t you want a drink? We can talk about the new furry addition to the family.”
I brush past him into the living room, Pepper racing after me on her stubby legs. My brothers are all there. No one is bleeding, no one is missing any limbs, no one is at death’s door.
The pounding of my heart starts to subside.
“What the hell?” I yell at them. “Why did you call me over here?”
“Geez, sorry we interrupted your work time.” McCarthy rolls his eyes.
Hawthorne begins diplomatically. “So, we called you here today—”
“Get the man a drink first.” Whitman shoves a tumbler filled with scotch into my hand.
“Like I said, there has been a new development,” Hawthorne continues.
“A puppy!” A little boy, maybe around six, races into the living room and throws himself down on the rug, blond hair flopping over gray eyes .
My lips thin. “That better not be your child, Hawthorne.”
“Please.” My brother snorts. “I know how to use a condom.”
“You said condom!” The kid shrieks in laugher, rolling around on the floor.
Pepper wags her tail and slathers doggie kisses over his face.
“You probably didn’t do a good job washing your face.” Whitman bends down to run a wet rag over the kid’s cheeks.
“No.” The scowl is settling in, tensing my jaw.
“Aww, Salinger, look—he’s so cute.” Whitman hugs our new little brother to his chest.
“You’re squishing me.” The kid wiggles out of Whitman’s arms.
“No. Get rid of him.”
“What, like drown him in Puget Sound?” Whitman asks.
“No, asshole. Send him back to the East Coast.”
“Ooooh, you said a bad word. I’m telling.” The kid is bouncing around me like a rabbit.
I grab him by the scruff of his neck. “Look, you little runt.”
The kid grins at me and pulls out a phone.
“Who gives a six-year-old a phone?” I ask.
“I’m seven and three quarters, and they do not know I have this phone. It’s a secret,” the kid whispers. “Let’s take a selfie.”
“Absolutely not. Which one of you brought this kid here?”
“Davy, you’re not making a good first impression on Salinger.” McCarthy grabs the kid from me and sets him back on the ground, where Davy starts snapping photos of the dog, of my shoes, of himself making weird faces in front of me.
“He ran away from home,” Whitman explains.
“So we’re harboring a runaway,” I say. “Fucking great.”
“Language,” Hawthorne drawls.
“Yeah, watch your fucking language,” the kid parrots.
“This is pure chaos,” I groan. “They must have sent him to try to f—mess with us.”
“Ehh.” Whitman grimaces. “Davy said he snuck onto the plane.”
The kid nods. “Yep. You can sneak into an airplane if you pretend to be with another family. They just let me through. It’s kind of ironic if you think about it.”
McCarthy laughs. “He reminds me of you!”
I bite back a curse. “Where is Crawford? This is his problem.”
“He had to go to Vancouver to deal with something. All very hush-hush,” Hawthorne explains.
Fitz nods. “The man is super secretive.”
“Yeah, it’s not healthy,” McCarthy concurs.
Davy is spinning around in the room while Pepper races around him, barking.
I have a headache coming on, Mandy’s still out there alone, and now I need to do something with this child. And call my half brothers.
Greg sounds annoyed when he picks up. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?” I ask.
“What is that noise?” Greg does not seem happy to hear from me.
“Davy, he’s—”
“That’s not my department. You need to call Hunter. He has all the boys.”
The line goes dead.
Biting back more swearing, I call my other half brother, Hunter.
He doesn’t answer. Not the first, fifth, or tenth time I call him.
Salinger: Answer your goddamn phone, asshole.
Hunter: It’s the middle of the night.
Hunter: You didn’t pay dues, you don’t get after-hours service.
I send him a picture of Davy.
Salinger: You need to come get him.
Salinger: I can’t believe you didn’t know he was missing.
Hunter: Your problem now, asshole. You can deal with him until Monday.
“I can stay!” Davy freaks out, jumping on the coffee table and doing a backflip.
“Absolutely not. This is a huge liability!” I shout over the chaos. “I’m sending him back to Harrogate.”
“But he misses us,” Fitz complains.
“We were gone before he was even born.” I have my phone to my ear. Mandy’s not answering. The panic is coming back. I stuff it down as I call her again.
She picks up on the fourth ring. “I’m still packing.”
“Fine. I need a plane ordered.”
It sounds like she’s switched me to speakerphone. “Hi, Pepper!”
“Hi, Mandy!” my brothers call .
“Hi, Mandy!” Davy echoes.
There’s a pause on the line.
“Oh my gosh...”
“Is that your girlfriend?” Davy demands.
“Davy, you don’t get to be part of this conversation,” I chide.
He grins. “She is your girlfriend!”
I wave over Whitman. “Can you put him in a closet or something?”
“The pilots will have the plane ready at the executive airport in an hour and a half,” Mandy assures me. “Have a nice trip!”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Lies were spread about me!” Davy is shrieking as I carry him out of the car. “Character assassination! Help, I’m being oppressed!”
“Sir, we can’t fly with an unaccompanied minor, especially not one like that.” The pilot gives a pointed look at Davy, who’s shrieking like he’s been possessed. “One of you needs to come with him.”
“Not it,” McCarthy calls.
“I am not going to the East Coast,” I retort.
It takes another half hour for Hawthorne to drive over to the airport so he can accompany Davy back to New York. In the meantime, I’ve bribed my littlest brother with chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers. The kid happily chews his way through a twenty-piece box of nuggets while I try to keep him from smearing grease all over the leather seats of my plane—and prevent Pepper from eating the fast-food packaging .
Talking a mile a minute to the flight attendants about the new goat he’s raising for some sort of farm camp, Davy is right at home in the private plane. I would never admit it even under torture, but with his blond hair and gray eyes that look too big for his head, he is kind of adorable.
“You owe me,” Hawthorne warns when he climbs into the plane.
“You’re leaving, Salinger?” Davy cries.
“I’m busy.”
Davy spontaneously hugs me. “I’ll come visit again soon.”
Something twists in my heart as I hug him back. Probably that chicken nugget I ate.
Davy’s waving at me through the window as the plane taxies away.
I’ve always said I didn’t want kids or a family. My brothers and my money are enough. But as I drive away from the airport, I wonder what it would be like to have my own kid. Would he look like Davy, or maybe more like Mandy?
I squash the direction of my thoughts as I pull up in front of the tower.
Seward is there to greet us. “Ms. Pepper!” He bends down to pet the corgi. “Where’s your mommy?”
I freeze. “She’s not here?”
“Who, sir?”
“Mandy.”
“I haven’t seen her.”
“Dammit.” I hand Pepper’s leash to Seward. “I have to go.”