Revenge, Inc. Part Two

Hey Spanky Friends!

How are all you lovely people today? I’m doing super. We had the weirdest weather this week. Weirdest. Spooky. Crazy. Like high 60s, low 70s, super sunny, warm and beautiful. In January????? Hubby and I started gardening like it was spring. Tore out a bunch of nasty stuff, weeded and I bought this reed roll fencing so I can cover up the ugly-ass cinderblock wall that lines my driveway. Getting ready for summer! Only slight problem. It is still winter. And it is returning with a vengeance this weekend. Oh, well. Was very happy to get a short reprieve. Especially when most of my friends back East are under a nasty blanket of snow. Well, don’t be too jealous, we had an earthquake recently. A few of them. I always think of our California weather as compensation for extremely high sales taxes, property taxes, state income taxes, the premium we pay on gasoline and natural gas, on food, and basically EVERYTHING. “Oh, you live in California? Hand me your checkbook, please. Sorry, nothing leftover for you.”

There is no free ride. As I have discovered.

Speaking of a free ride, I had AWESOME sex last night. I wish I could bottle up my Hubby and sell him because I’d make a fortune. If you wonder how I get inspired to write my work, look no further than my spouse. He’s a treasure. A stinky treasure, but a treasure all the same. And man, can that boy spank my ass well! YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!

Okay, I’m horny again. When will he get home???? When???? Speaking of horny, we are going to a fancy-schmancy hotel in Palo Alto on Saturday night. I got a free night there from an organization that I volunteer for, for all their appreciation for the work I’ve done. So Hubby and I are going to celebrate an early anniversary, go to the movies, go to a nice place for dinner and go back to the hotel and FUCK OUR BRAINS OUT. I told him we had to do it three or four times at least. Let’s see how we do. Whooo-hooooo! Hotel sex!!!

Okay, enough of this. Here is the next chapter of Revenge, Inc. Soon to be found in my upcoming book, “Straightjacket of Lies”, which should be released later on this year.

Have a great weekend!

Michelle


“Tiffany, are you all right?” Peter would try a super caring approach to see if that could restore the seduction.

Her red lips tight, she shook her head a tiny bit. “No, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Look, are you sure you don’t know her? I mean, she knew the name of your boat. And last week, you went sailing, I know you did, you told me.”

“So what? Anyone could have gathered that information.”

She looked down at her nails. “Is it possible you got drunk and…” Her blue gaze searched his.

He straightened his shoulders. “I never get drunk.”

She blinked at him, then bit her lower lip. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know, I’ve got a bit of a headache. Maybe we should call it an evening…”

He’d lost. Damn it.

After driving her home, he drove straight to his club. There wouldn’t be anyone under the age of eighty there, but he needed a drink and didn’t want to be alone. Surprisingly, he found one of his closest friends sitting in front of the fire with a brandy.

Horatio, a corporate lawyer, indicated the burgundy leather chair across from him. “Join me, friend. And tell me all about your exciting evening.”

“You know?”

“Jimmy was at Fleur tonight.”

His shoulders slumping, Peter ran a hand through his thick mane of dark hair. “Christ.”

“You know, it’s curious. You’re not the only one who’s had weird scenes with strangers lately. Thom, Rob Colt and Graham White, all had crazy women accost them. Women they didn’t know. Just like you.”

Peter frowned. “What the hell? Really? Rob and Graham?”

“Yes. Plus other strange troubles. Rob had a flight cancelled, Graham had his car impounded, Thom found his car filled with orange juice.”

“Orange juice?”

“Yeah, I guess there was a tanker nearby and someone put a hose from the tanker into his car window and filled the sucker.”

Peter burst out laughing and then caught himself. “I know that’s not funny. Was it the Ferrari?”

“Yeah.”

“Not the ‘67?”

“Yep.”

“That’s irreplaceable.”

Horatio nodded. “Whomever it was, wanted to hurt him.”

“Damn,” Peter said, stroking his chin. “You know I had my phone service cancelled this week, my car died suddenly—it’s in the shop—someone put sugar in my gas tank. And then this woman attacks me in Fleur.”

“Obviously a pattern. What do you all have in common?”

“Um… don’t know. We’re rich… Wait… divorced. We’re divorced. In the past two years.”

“Yes.”

Peter gestured sharply. “But Lily couldn’t be behind this. She’s too refined. Barely shed a tear during the divorce proceedings. But then again, she leaked all kinds of misinformation to the press. Sure I was cheating on her, even though I wasn’t. I don’t know. She’s the only one in my life who hates me enough to pull something like this. But it’s not her style.”

“She knows the other guys’ ex-wives. They’re all in a little coffee clutch.”

Peter shot his friend a look. “You think they’re behind this?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Maybe they’re pulling stuff on each other’s respective exes.”

“I know those ladies. None would ever get their hands dirty. Would fit, though. That woman tonight didn’t look deranged. She looked like a bad actress. There was a look in her eye, she knew what she was doing, she knew me. And if her purpose was to get Tiffany to dump me, it worked.”

“Then Tiffany wasn’t worth a damn.”

“Suppose. Thought she was a nice girl.”

“Beware of nice girls. Especially ones that come from your marketing department.”

“Yeah… maybe you’re right.”

Horatio leaned forward. “Listen to me, my friend. Look for a girl from your social circle. Dating a company woman only works when you’re working your way up. Not when you’re on the top. Can’t trust the lot of them. Watch out for the gold-diggers. You’ve got a target on your chest.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dismal information, but true. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not taking this crap lying down. Someone attacked me this week and I’m going to find out who that woman was. If she’s working for my ex, I’ll shut down her little business and put her behind bars where she belongs.”

He pictured the slip of a woman in that clingy dress. While he hated her and she was clearly a lunatic, her body was beyond perfection. Had the nicest rounded bottom he’d seen in a long time.

“But maybe before I send her to jail, I’ll take out some of my frustration on that perfect little ass of hers.”

Horatio’s brow rose. “She had a perfect ass?”

“Oh, yes. Very spankable.”

Horatio’s eyes lit up. “Sounds like fun. Nothing more exhilarating than spanking a deserving behind.”

Peter grinned. “Isn’t it though? Had a girlfriend once who pushed me so hard, she rarely sat down comfortably. And that little girl tonight… Can’t wait to give her the treatment. Quite the actress. Hey… What if she is an actress? Theatre world isn’t very big in this town. Maybe I’ll start there.”

“Williams is a good man. Helped me with some trouble with an ex-partner. Anyone get a picture of your woman?”

“Maybe she’s on the security camera. Good thought. I’ll call the restaurant right away. Andre will help me. Slipped him three grand tonight to cover the damages.”

“Sounds like you have yourself a mission.”

“I’d say so.”

His spirits buoyed, Peter finished his drink and drove home. He’d find that little brat. A thrill went through his loins at the thought of that perfect rear over his knee. He’d teach her a lesson, all right. One she’d never forget.

©2011, Michelle Carlyle