She leaned in, trying to get a look at his face, "No, you didn't, or no, it's not old-fashioned to call it a brothel, or-"
"No," Thomas said firmly, softly covering her hands with his big, warm one. "I didn't sleep with anyone. I haven't. Since we married."
"That's good," Lauren said, a little dazed and kind of hating the spark of hope in her chest. Gathering her thoughts, she offered, "I haven't, either." She didn't have to look at her husband's self-satisfied face to know he was trying not to chuckle.
"That's good, too," he finally offered, squeezing her hand as he turned onto their street.
"So, what do you think?" Michael was a bit distracted, trying to picture exactly what Williams was doing to that tasty little bitch in his office.
Kingston frowned the unpleasant set to his jaw making him look even more frightening. "I don't like her."
Number Three shrugged, "You don't like anyone. Anything specific?"
The most terrifying man he knew turned to look at Michael fully. "She's too confident that Thomas can save her," he spat. "If she makes a mistake, there is no one on this planet who can save her from me."
Chapter 18 – The Ladies Who Lunch
In which Lauren is forced to face the most terrifying predators at The Corporation. Also, drunken revelations.
"Darling, you're just planning a fundraiser, not mucking out a hog trough."
Lauren's mouth was set in a small, mutinous frown, and she barely kept from rolling her eyes at her husband's amused, indulgent tone. Shehatedhis amused, indulgent tone, especially when it was directed at her. But since she hated a spanking more, the rolling the eyes thing was off the table. "I know," she mumbled, "I just..." she thought about it. What was worse? Planning it with the confusing Arabella or doing it poorly and making Thomas look bad? She was now quite acutely aware of how important Number Two's image was within The Corporation- the right blend of respect and utter terror of the man- and it was crucial she did nothing to alter that. "I don't want to... Ugh!" she leaned down to pull on her riding boots, and when she straightened up, Thomas was standing in front of her, close enough to feel the heat radiate off his freshly shaved face.
"What?" Looking down at his wife's lovely face, Thomas enjoyed how her lashes would flutter when he spoke in his sweetest, most compelling voice. And he did so love compelling Lauren. "What don't you want to do?"
"Idon'twanttoscrewthisupand... make you look bad," it came out in a rush, and Lauren cringed a little. She sounded like a six-year-old.
Thomas laughed, putting those long arms around her and squeezing her lightly. "You told me you would help your mother when she did these sorts of things, and you handled a fundraiser or two at Julliard, correct?"
"Yes," she agreed, "but-"
Raising her chin for a kiss, Thomas rose one haughty brow, "Then I am certain you will do a spectacular job. Some new ideas are needed, these recent events have been a bit stale. You'll breathe some new life and new ideas into The Corporation's charity division."
Thinking of the bizarre irony of a ruthless organized crime syndicate having a charity division, Lauren forced a smile and nodded. She didn't realize something until after her dark and beautiful husband had left for work. "I never told him about those fundraisers in college," she said out loud to the quiet house, "how did he...?" Her heart settled back in the pit of her stomach, wondering if there was any detail Thomas hadn't stripped ruthlessly from her past.
So, her mood was still glum when she arrived at the restaurant where the other Ladies Who Lunch (as she secretly called The Corporation spouses) were beginning to plan the next fundraiser designed to make Jaguar Holdings look like a beneficent and generous company and not the horrifying entity of fear and death it actually was.You're being dramatic,Lauren lectured herself,paste on that fake smile that got you through all of Dad's shitty dinners.Chuck opened her door and stood back respectfully, waiting. After a couple of minutes, he cleared his throat. Still, no Lauren emerged from the darkened interior of the car.
"Miss Lauren?"
She jumped a little, not quite noticing that her bodyguard had opened her door some time ago. "I'm sorry, Chuck. I was... uh. I was thinking."
With a sigh that teetered on the side of aggrieved, Chuck slid in next to her in the back seat and shut the door. "Aimes," he looked at his generously armed co-worker. "Go out and hold the perimeter." Once the other man was outside, he turned to Lauren. "What's the problem?" Chuck's tone was more brusque than usual, but she didn't take offense.
Lauren rested her head on the padded leather of her head-rest. "I'm a little freaked out. I don't know any of these women, aside from Arabella and Clara. I'm supposed to be scary Number Two's... I dunno, scary bride. I met some of these women at the wedding. They give me the creeps."
Chuck pursed his lips. "I recall you trying to kick me while I held your father at gunpoint. You did not seem unduly intimidated." Watching her roll her eyes, he folded his hands and continued, calm and urbane. "Or the occasion you steered Mr. Williams's Jaguar at a considerable rate of speed while he was shooting out the back window?"
Snorting in a way that she knew would get a reprimand from her stern spouse, Lauren asked, "Is this your British understatement teaching me a life lesson about keeping a cool head with the Ladies Who Lunch if I can do it while being shot at?"
Straightening his cuff, Chuck shook his head. "No. It wasn't required. You just managed that for yourself." Leaving the car to hold the door for her, the man's expression didn't twitch as Lauren shook her head.
"You'd make an astounding life coach. If life coaches carried firearms and ran crazed Texan drug dealers off the road."
"And here she is, the new Mrs. Thomas Williams!"
Lauren cringed to hear the overly loud voice of Arabella, which meant the woman was already a couple of cocktails ahead of everyone, which of course the girl could relate to. If Thomas hadn't been in the house right to the point she had to leave, too, she would have picked out another bottle from his excellent wine cellar to take the edge off her anxiety. Several well-coiffed heads turned to look, a few women she remembered from her dreadful wedding and to her amusement, a few men as well. Every spouse of upper-level management at Jaguar Holdings was expected to serve on one board or another. Two of the men were partners to males on Thomas's team, a couple of others were husbands to high-ranking women in The Corporation, including the head of Pacific Acquisitions, a red-headed woman so terrifying that even Thomas, formidable as he was, rarely found it "necessary" to speak to her. Forcing a smile, she nodded to everyone and slipped into her chair with an apology. "So sorry to be late, it's a pleasure to see you all again." Looking down at her napkin to avoid some of the more avid stares, Lauren forced herself to remember Chuck's implacable expression.It couldn't be worse than having a gun jammed in my side, right?
She was reconsidering that assumption after another round of drinks was ordered and desserts finished. Looking longingly down where a meek Clara sat next to Arabella, Lauren wished she'd been early enough to snag a seat next to her only two allies. The woman next to her was just finishing the story of the "effort" required to get her son back into his college after being caught in a cheating scandal. The man on the other side was earnestly comparing the merits of an early face-lift with the woman next to him.
