TWENTY-EIGHT Flash of Lightning
SADIE
I’ve awakened from one the best naps I’ve ever experienced when my cell buzzes from the nightstand. I fling my limbs out like a starfish, luxuriating in taking up so much room. As much as I love having the guys acting as my three personal body cushions, there’s something awfully luxurious about stretching out as far as I can.
I can’t stretch very far, and that reminds me how much I’ve been neglecting doing any of the exercises my occupational therapist recommended I do. Part of this is due to me rebelling against all the physical suffering I endured during those early days, and part of it is just me being a pain in the ass.
I’m stubborn, I can admit it. And sometimes, I don’t listen because I don’t want to.
Maybe it’s an independence thing, I don’t know. But now that I find myself limited in my movements, I chastise myself.
I should’ve kept up with that. I know the guys all work out using various methods. That’s why all three of them are such marvelous specimens whether in the buff or dressed. Yet, they make me feel beautiful just the same.
Sex with them is so liberating. Not to mention a workout in its own right. So, maybe I haven’t been doing the correct exercises, but I have been getting something.
And honestly, it’s been the best time of my life.
I’m still in bed feeling downright lazy when my phone buzzes from the nightstand again. Unable to ignore it this time, I roll over, having to scoot from the center of the mattress to reach the silly thing.
Win: Can you take a gander at the site? I’m receiving several messages about the consent to the background checks landing page.
Ah. These troubleshooting issues pop up every now and then.
My bestie and I do have a customer support team that deals with FAQs and other problems that frequently come up within the site, but the truth is that fiddling with the code is something I like to have proprietary control over. When it comes down to the nitty-gritty complexities, I’d rather deal with those types of matters myself.
And this is one of those times.
Sadie: Hopping on my laptop now.
My laptop is the most powerful programming computer money can buy, but such capacity is required to do the work that’s sometimes necessary for me. I’m careful about what the guys see me doing anytime I’m on the screen.
Watching a movie in bed or ordering something from an online store won’t so much as bat an eye but bringing up a black monitor with lines of code would no doubt cause them to inquire about subjects I’d rather not broach.
Not yet, anyway.
It’s best for everyone involved if they remain unaware of who actually constructed the deep website that enabled me to hire them as male escorts. It could look like a conflict of interest since I’m an insider with this company.
I guess as the CEO, there’s no other way of putting it.
Situating myself in my seating area, I scroll through the backend of the site, searching for whatever might be amiss. I locate the issue, but it takes more than a few keystrokes to fix the broken links.
Since this will take more time and concentration than I thought, I lay my laptop on the low table and perch my ass on the carpeted floor. This way, I won’t have to fight to balance the keyboard on my lap while typing with one hand.
Like I often do in such circumstances, I lose myself in my work. It’s been since before the guys and I came out here to New Hampshire that I’ve delved so in-depth into Elegance, and it feels good to get my hands dirty again.
Since it’ll be simpler to have my bestie provide the customer view without me having to flip back and forth between the pages, I contact her directly. I’ve been meaning to reach out to her, anyway.
“Win, thanks for the heads up.”
“Oh, I know how much you geek out on stuff like this.” There’s humor in her tone. It’s been forever since I’ve heard her voice. I really should call her more often, even if typing out messages is sometimes easier. “I’ve held off on bugging you for a few weeks, but now the minor glitch has become a major one.”
I tap out what should be a solution onto the page. Working with just my right hand still aggravates me, but I soldier on.
“Okay, I think I nixed it, but try pushing a check through so we can be sure.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Caroline.” Seconds tick by. “Well, when I attempt to send the attachment, it’s still giving me an error.”
“What’s the error say?” I ask, so engrossed in our discussion that I don’t register the fact that Jerome has entered and is standing behind me until he clears his throat.
I startle so vehemently that I send the laptop tumbling to the floor. “Goddammit, you scared the bejesus out of me.”
He chuckles. “Sorry about that. Am I interrupting something?”
My heart is pounding so violently it might be bruising my ribcage. Why did he sneak up on me like that? I reach for my laptop, praying it’s not damaged. It seems all right from what a swift glance can tell me.
“Yes, actually. Can you come back in about ten minutes?” Absorbing my exasperation, he sobers.
“Sure. Everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” I bite out, countering my own words. But I’m a little frustrated with him. Why didn’t he knock and request my attention instead of barging right in? Even if I had the door pushed to rather than shut, asking before entering is common courtesy.
“Caroline?” I hear my phone from somewhere around my feet and hunt down where I nearly kicked the thing under the sofa.
“I’m here.”
“That was one of your freelancers, wasn’t it?”
“Jerome.”
“Ooh, I read his profile, and his pic is delicious. Is he seriously that attractive in person?”
Some of my ire lessens at Win’s nonsense. “Even more so. They all are.”
“Maybe I should try my own experiment in purchasing one of our men for my needs.”
“Maybe,” I say, and it strikes me that somewhere in all this commotion I accidentally put my bestie on speakerphone.
I finish my work, and at last, when Win reloads the page, the error is resolved. Ending the call with my friend, logging out of the site, and clearing my history for good measure, I advance out of my room to track down Jerome, only to discover him loitering right outside my door.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you as per your instructions.” He sounds so... formal. But whatever.
“Did you need something?”
“Who were you speaking to just now?”
Irritation skitters through me, but I answer regardless. “Winter. Why?”
“Listen, I understand what I do for a living now and what I’ve done in the past may make me sound like nothing but a product, and that’s on me. But for future reference, I don’t appreciate being talked about like some soulless slab of beef.”
He’s angry. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him. But his temper being ignited only sets off my own.
“Well, I don’t appreciate you eavesdropping on me like a spy.”
“I’m hardly a spy. If I was, I’d be a hell of a lot more aware of what you’re up to.”
I scowl, squinting at him as I shake my head in staccato-like motions. “What are you inferring, Jerome?”
“I came here on behalf of Dom, Zach, and myself to determine what’s going to happen at the conclusion of our contracts.” I open my mouth to reply but he cuts me off. “But apparently what I need to find out is what you and your friend meant by ‘our men.’”
Puzzled, I blink at him. “What?”
“That’s what your friend said. ‘Our men.’ Like you own us or something. What’s that all about?”
All at once I comprehend that he not only overheard my side of my conversation with Winter, he also heard the part where she mentioned attempting her own experiment. Like I am. With my three freelance contractors. Contractors I both hired as a client and hired as the person who is the co-owner of the Elegance company.
I consider explaining to him that I’m in the process of selling the townhouse in the city and buying a historic single-family home in the Back Bay with every amenity we might need.
I consider telling him that I’ve grown to care so much about him, Dom, and Zach that I’m unwilling to part with them—any of them—and will be offering them each a year-long contract. And that’s just as a start. An introduction to have them stay with me for longer.
Possibly forever.
But since I’m seeing red, I don’t cop to any of that. I’m flexing my hand repeatedly, livid.
I don’t know what compels me to admit the next sentence that flies out of my mouth, but it escapes before I can think better of it.
“What you eavesdropped on was Winter and I discussing an issue with the Elegance site. Because it’s our responsibility. Because we’re the fucking CEOs of the company.”
He gawks at me, his lips opening and closing like he’s gearing up to say something that doesn’t quite make it out. When he is able to use his words, they break out of him like the sound of metal grinding against metal.
Like a plane crash.
“You own Elegance?” Bewilderment and horror coat this query, along with pure suspicion. “But how? I thought you were a client.”
“I am. Or I became one.” Yet it’s high time I do some recovery before this goes too far. “Not that it matters.”
“It doesn’t matter?” he asks, his rich voice high and incredulous. “I suppose we don’t matter, either.”
“No. Not at all. That’s...” I huff out a breath. “That’s not what I meant. If you’ll let me explain...”
“I think you’ve explained enough. You bought this company with all your money, then set it up to where you could buy us, too. The fact that we’ve been trying to help you doesn’t matter. The fact that I legitimately care about you doesn’t, either. This is all a setup. None of it is real.”
“It is real,” I object. “My feelings for you—all of you—are real.”
He smiles, but it’s not the customary ready grin that warms every feature of his face. This curve of his lips is cold. Aloof. It makes a chill slither down my spine. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know,” I call out, my voice cracking, but the damage has been done.
I watch as the cold smile vanishes to be replaced not by the calm composure he’s always shown till now but by an expressionless mask. Except that it’s not quite expressionless. His eyes, those gorgeous irises of light jade are filled with hurt. There’s so much anguish there that it makes me sick to my stomach.
Then, he turns on his heel and like a flash of lightning, makes his exit without uttering another word.