Chapter 32
The next evening we learned that my dining room table was the perfect height for sex.
Sturdier than the price tag might’ve suggested.
After a frenetic coupling, Malone and I were both coming down.
My legs still wound around his waist, my arms around his neck.
I wanted to live in this particular moment forever.
“God bless Swedish furniture engineering,” I muttered.
His laughter rumbled through me, and he kissed the spot where my neck met my shoulder. “I take it you missed me as much as I missed you.”
“I missed you more.”
“Unlikely.” Even as he said the word, he wandered down the hall to take care of the condom. I sat there, the air now cool on my naked body. I made the mistake of looking down. The harsh apartment lights showed every stretch mark, blemish, roll of fat.
“What are you doing?” Malone asked as he approached.
“Nothing,” I said.
He cocked his head to one side. “No, you were frowning. Something’s bugging you.”
“I think I’ve peaked.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you did.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean I’ve peaked in terms of physical appearance.”
He walked closer and wrapped his arms around me. “If that is what you are thinking, then I obviously didn’t do my job properly.”
“Oh, that’s not it. I’m recommending a raise at your next performance review, but—”
He reached underneath me, picking me up so quickly I squealed. “Come on, Malone. I’m too heavy for this!”
“I lift weights so I can carry beautiful women around,” he said as he carried me—my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and his forearms under my ass—in the direction of my bedroom. Impressive, really.
“I’ve got to up my cardio,” I said. “I’m exhausted on your behalf.”
But he showed no signs of exertion as he lightly tossed me on the bed. Then he took my hand and started kissing up my arm.
“What are you doing?”
“I would think that would be obvious,” he said as he bent over to trail kisses across my collarbone.
“I’m serious, Malone,” I said. “You’re over here aging like a fine wine and . . .”
He continued kissing.
“I’ll say the salty fish word.”
With a deep sigh, he sat back on his heels. “Fine. What is your ridiculous complaint about your sumptuous body?”
“To be honest, I never used to worry about it. I mean, other than the usual concerns that any woman might have. At age twelve or so, the puberty fairy delivers a mental checklist for every girl to study, so there’s always been something I would like to change—”
“Sacrilege.”
“But I didn’t really care. This past year, though, has me doubting myself.” I looked up at the ceiling. Why was I telling him this?
He lay down beside me. “Let’s refute these points quickly because you’ve done wonders for my refractory period, which is further proof that you are being silly.”
“One, Ken told me—”
“That man is a dumbass, and his name should not even be spoken in your presence.”
“Fine, the Douchecanoe told me that I was too old to do the honey-trap scenarios.”
“The what? Are you out there getting government secrets like a modern Mata Hari or something?”
“No, no. Sometimes a significant other—or a member of their family—would hire me to flirt with someone to see if they were willing to cheat.”
“Oh. And what was your success rate? Ninety-seven percent? Because I seem to recall that you had me giving you my Social Security number not that long ago.”
“When you put it that way . . .” I rolled over on my side, so we were face-to-face.
He paused, studied me, closing his brown eye slightly more than his blue, almost as though he were looking at me through a microscope or possibly taking aim. “And?”
“This college kid called me a ‘saggy-ass bitch,’” I said with a sigh.
“First of all, no. I bet I could bounce a quarter off your ass, and I might like to try that experiment later. Second, what do you care about his opinion?”
“I don’t know. So weird to have these thoughts.” My eyes met his. “Even weirder to tell you about them. I guess I feel like I can because I know you’re going back to California.”
Was it my imagination or did he tense when I mentioned California? If so, he quickly recovered. “And here I thought you might feel comfortable telling me these things because we have one of those special pizza-based relationships.”
My stomach dropped.
So he wasn’t going to deny it. He wasn’t going to say he’d like to take our relationship beyond pizza.
And if he wasn’t going to float that idea out there, then I wasn’t going to, either.
I’d just admitted to fears about my body, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to add being clingy to my list of foibles.
“Stella,” he said softly.
I’d been staring at his tattoo while tracing it with my finger, but my eyes immediately met his because he had never addressed me as anything other than Stark. “Yes?”
His hand lay gently on my cheek. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Malone,” I said. I could feel my cheeks growing hotter.
“You know I’m telling you the truth, too, because I’ve already gotten into your pants.”
“Well, that and you’d plead the Fifth before you’d lie.”
“Duh. It’s my favorite amendment.”
I bit my lip to keep from asking him if he would be willing to make our arrangement more permanent. Things would’ve been so much easier if we did more kissing and less talking. I forced a smile and traced my hand down his body. “How’s that refractory period coming along?”
“Terrible, just terrible,” he said even as his erection betrayed him. “I think you’re going to have to persuade me.”
And so I did.
Later, we were eating Chinese takeout when I asked him how work was going.
Malone responded with sad trombone noises.
“You’re so articulate,” I said.
“I’ll have you know”—he held his chopsticks in the air in feigned outrage—“I’m a very cunning linguist.”
“Can confirm,” I said before pointing my fork at him. I’d given up on chopsticks. “You’re also a pro at changing the subject when it comes to your work.”
He shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help. That’s all.”
“Try me.”
“Well, I’d have to know where he is for you to help.”
“Aha! But that is the one thing I can help you with. Private investigator, remember?”
“Yeah, but he is seriously off the grid this time. Not just hiding from his wife.”
“O ye of little faith. Who told you he would show up at the gala?”
“You did.”
“Who served him with papers?”
“You did.”
“Who had video footage of him sneaking into your apartment?”
“You did. Because you are as brilliant as you are beautiful, but I also don’t want to drag you into this.
For now, Grandpa believes me. I’ve pieced together everything that was erased and everything that was stolen but not backed up, but I’m still missing some pieces of the overall financial puzzle.
There’s gotta be a shell company I’m missing, one that’s hiding really well.
Or an employee who doesn’t really exist. Something. ”
“Well, how about you work on that, and I’ll work on finding Blake.”
“I don’t think you’ll have much luck, but I’m not going to say no to your help.” Malone stabbed his chopsticks into the red-and-white box of lo mein he’d been eating. I’d never seen him with such a sour expression. Not even the ladybugs had provoked him the way Blake Malone did.
“Hey, Malone.”
“Yeah?”
“What is it about Blake that really eats at you?”
He stiffened. “Why would you say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m no psychologist, but every time you hear his name, you tense up.”
He exhaled and put his box on the coffee table. “That noticeable, huh?”
“Only to someone you’re in a special pizza-based relationship with.”
He chuckled and studied the ceiling. “Blake Malone is, and has always been, a bully. Our parents thought it would be good for us cousins to spend the summer together, but it was sheer torture for me. I guess Blake enjoyed it, probably in the same way some kids enjoy using magnifying glasses to set ants on fire. I hated it.”
“What did he do?”
“Believe it or not, Stark, I was a total nerd.”
“No!”
“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe that a prime male specimen such as myself, a child with a manly name like Tiberius, would have ever been pale, weak, and bookish, but it’s the truth.”
“I like bookish,” I said.
“Luckily for me.”
“So he said mean things?”
“Well, that and sometimes he threw a punch for funsies, but what he really loved to do was to take things away from me. The bigger cookie, the best lawn chair, the prettiest girl. His whole mission in life was to steal from me, no matter how big or small. I soon learned to take nothing I really wanted with me to my grandparents’ house because he would steal it. ”
“Steal it? Aren’t your parents all rich? Why would he steal?”
Malone’s eyes met mine. “To keep me from having it.”
“Do your parents know?”
“They do now, but even if they’d known then, they would’ve told me to leave anything I wanted to keep at home and to not make waves. My dad isn’t into confrontation. He’s the younger brother.”
“But he and your uncle are twins!”
“Well, that thirty minutes means a lot, Stark. At least that’s what I’ve always been told.”
“That’s awful.” You could say a lot about my mother, but she would—and indeed had—gone full mama bear on both kids and adults who picked on me. Unfortunately for me, my mama bear had a tendency to forage for long stretches of time and thus wasn’t always there when I needed defending.
“You gotta understand something about my dad,” Malone said.
“He’s a college philosophy professor in a family full of businessmen.
My mom has a chronic illness, and he will do anything—and I do mean anything—to stay in Grandpa’s good graces so he can be absolutely sure that he will always have enough money to take care of her.
So, in the scheme of things, it doesn’t mean a whole lot to him if my spoiled-brat cousin steals my favorite G.I.
Joe action figure or my original copy of The Death of Superman. Those are things and can be replaced.”
“What about your mother?”
“She’s really big on turning the other cheek.”
“Ah,” I said. “So not like me in the least.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes more before Malone added, “I could live with all those things. We were just kids, but then he stole my college girlfriend, the first woman I was ever serious about.”
“Ouch. Selena?”
“No, no. I didn’t meet her until much later. My first girlfriend from back when he went to Stanford.”
“Blake Malone went to Stanford?”
Malone laughed. “Not for long. By the end of his freshman year, he’d crashed and burned, but unfortunately for me, he didn’t manage to do that before he convinced Jada to dump me.”
“And now he’s stolen money but is trying to pin it on you?”
“Yes!” Malone’s response was so loud that BB looked up from where she had been snoozing between us. “Have you ever been in a competition that you didn’t want to be in?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, from as early as I can remember, my cousin has wanted to ‘beat’ me. Flag football? I’m going to end up with a bloodied nose from where he ‘accidentally’ elbows me.
Comic books and action figures? If he didn’t get it first, then he’ll make sure I don’t have it.
Girlfriends? He’s slept with more women, and he thinks they were all prettier.
The family business? He’s gonna be on the board of directors and make sure that my company is hired only on an as-needed basis. ”
“So he can steal funds.”
“Apparently.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because it sounds like whining, Stark.”
“Not to me, it doesn’t,” I said softly.
“Well, he’s not getting away with this one, because now my business and my reputation are on the line.
Material things, I don’t care about. In a funny twist, he was the one to teach me how unimportant those things are.
And I know now that any woman who wants to be with him isn’t right for me.
But I’ve worked really hard to make Chateau Cybersecurity a thriving business, and I have employees who count on me.
Moreover, Grandpa and his dad before him worked hard to make Malone Construction a solid business, and my greedy cousin doesn’t get to tear that down. ”
By now he was standing, his chest heaving with the effort of his speech.
“You’re hot when you’re righteously indignant, Malone.”
“He grinds my gears.”
“Of course he does,” I said. “What he’s doing isn’t fair. It’s not just. It’s not right.”
“He is mean,” Malone said. “When you were trying to tell me how mean you are? I kept thinking of him—”
“The other day we sewed together all the holes in all the briefs of a man who’d been cheating on his wife,” I said.
“He. Had. It. Coming.”
“I set up a website called and then called in a favor from an old client to advertise on an electronic billboard that a certain school board member awarded no-bid contracts to family members for expensive but shoddy school equipment.”
“Investigative journalism. A public service, really.”
“I may or may not have planted six little noisemakers that sound like crickets in someone’s apartment last week. They go off intermittently.”
“Stark!”
“I can’t be tamed, Malone.”
“Fine. Just try to use your powers for good. Please?”
“Aye, aye, Cap.”
“I’m not Captain America.”
“No, but you are a strong contender for ‘America’s ass.’ It’s a fine ass, and don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
He gave me a crooked grin. “Are you trying to get laid again, you insatiable minx?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Wanna sleep over tonight?”
“Yes.” He stood abruptly and tossed me over his shoulder. As we made our way toward the bedroom, BB gave me a look of pure disgust before curling up in a circle with her face toward the couch cushions.