Fun With Rick and Jade (15 page)

She protectively wrapped the towel around her body and disengaged both physically and emotionally from him. “What do you mean?”

“Where do I begin?” he said. “You don’t eat enough, sleep enough, or have fun enough. You worry too much. Don’t smile or laugh enough. You are without a doubt too hard on yourself.”

“Go fuck yourself, Rick.”

“And, may I add, too hard on me.”

Rick demonstrated his software for Dave Honeycutt. They looked over his detailed business plan and the current year’s financial statements at his less-than-impressive rented office. He’d pretty much worked from the spare bedroom of his apartment, renting a space once he had a potential investor. The reason being, his apartment appeared slightly less impressive than the drab office, with its worn, wall-to-wall carpet and nicotine-tinted paint job.

“Everything looks good,” Dave said. “Do you mind if I have my accountant and attorney back home take a look?”

Rick shrugged. “Sure.” He had nothing to hide. Not anything having to do with his business, at any rate. They’d already picked apart last year’s financials. The inquiry told him the guy was not going to write him a check today, tomorrow, or next week. Dave was a shrewd businessman, not to be charmed out of his money by the likes of Rick and Jade Jette.
Rick and Jade Jette. Mr. and Mrs. Richard Jette
. But the deal wasn’t off the table yet. Dave hadn’t said the word no. And maybe he could drag out the marriage for a while longer, too.

“You know,” Dave wagged his finger at Rick, “you’re making me look bad.”

Staring in wide-eyed apprehension, Rick asked, “How so?”

“You and Jade.” An empty spot on the wall held Dave’s attention. “Not to make you feel awkward, but Trudy and I caught a glimpse of you two frolicking in the pool last night.”

“Oh? Oh.”
Frolicking?
“I apologize. We assumed you were asleep.”

“Nonsense. We’re cramping your style.” Dave withdrew his eyes from the wall to stare at the floor. “You’re young and in love. After nearly twenty years of marriage, Trudy and I have slipped into a comfortable routine. Maybe too comfortable.”

“Nothing wrong with comfort or routine,” Rick said. “Sounds nice.” Even to his ears, the response sounded too much like butt-kissing, but the assurance of a partner in life and love gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling. He could definitely get used to waking up next to the likes of Jade every morning, sex or no. Sure, she hogged the blankets and muttered in her sleep. He’d deal with it. And she was usually up before he ever woke, anyhow. Actually, he’d like to change that once in a while and get some morning sex.

“Did you ever think you’d spend your life fucking just one person?” Dave asked him.

Rick snapped his head toward Dave. Rick had been über-careful about his language and had begged Jade to do likewise. Surprisingly, she was better at watching her language than he was. Apparently better than Dave, too.

“Pardon the language.” His expression reflected a blankness of thought Rick took as defeat or quiet despair.

“To answer your question, no, not really. I guess when you find ‘the one,’ for lack of a better term, you know it.”
Talk about the blind leading the blind
. He’d never guessed he’d ever be giving relationship advice to anyone. Maybe it was a case of “those who can’t do—teach.” He’d certainly never had a marital role model in his mother, who was more of a don’t-do-this warning.

“That’s what I was afraid you’d say.” Dave’s lips turned up in a rueful smile.

It’s not as if he and the guy were pals. The conversation entered the danger zone. The man was crying out for help. And Rick knew firsthand that Trudy was going through some sort of marital crisis. “Are you and your wife having…problems?”

“I think it’s time Trudy and I left our comfort zone.” Dave snapped out of his trance to pat Rick on the shoulder. “We’d like to take a walk on the wild side with you and Jade, if you’re willing. Mix it up, as the younger generation says.”

Rick swallowed a rather large lump in his throat. Although technically in a state-sanctioned marriage, he and Jade had a no-strings-attached relationship and the paperwork to prove it, in the form of a pre-nup. As evidenced by the awkward kiss Trudy’d tried to plant on him, Rick had zero attraction to her. He wouldn’t get into a situation where he might cross swords with another man and he damn sure couldn’t stomach the thought of any guy touching Jade. Not Ewan. Not Dave. Not for any amount of money. Although he doubted she felt the same about Rick, judging by her non-reaction to the news that Trudy had tried to kiss him.

“What exactly did you see last night?” They’d engaged in some hot, dirty sex, but nothing to give the Honeycutts the impression they’d be open to swapping or swinging.

He grinned like a schoolboy. “The two of you splashing and playing in the pool. You laughing. Her squealing. I can’t remember the last time Trudy and I had fun like that.”

“And….” He was a little afraid to ask. “What did you have in mind?”

“Dancing.”

“Dancing?” He’d almost prefer the swapping, but a fair amount of tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders melted away. “I’m not a great dancer.”
But I’ll bet Jade is
. Holding her close in his arms, swaying to a slow song, appealed to him. Her finding out what a crappy dancer he was—not so much. Even though she’d probably guessed as much.

“Me, either,” Dave admitted. “But that’s the point, right? Leaving our comfort zone.”

Rick shrugged. “Right.”

***

Sitting in front of his laptop later that day, Rick jabbed his finger at the screen. “Don’t you think this is something you should have disclosed before you let me agree to marry you?”

She’d been found out. Who knew it could get worse than him marrying a call girl embroiled in a nasty custody battle with the father of her illegitimate baby? Yes, she could have told him the baby’s biological father was a public figure with some political influence. The story going public on the Internet was something she probably should have warned Rick about sooner.

“You’re the one who smacked him right out in public,” Jade accused, because apologies weren’t her style.

Rick ran his fingers through his hair. He had nice hair. She enjoyed doing the same, fingering his hair every chance she got. Actually, she’d rather be running her hands through his hair now instead of arguing.

“How was I to know someone would snap a half-dozen photos on their phone?” he asked.

“Technology. Go figure.” They might have had a few more days before the story broke if her little nerd hadn’t decided to go all caveman on her all of the sudden. So stupid. So sweet. So sexy.

“This will likely get picked up by a major news affiliate.” Rick carried his anxiety smack-dab in the middle of his face.

Who doesn’t like a good scandal?
“I doubt it’ll be anything more than a local story.” At least no one knew where they lived. So far Rick was an unidentified man who’d struck Councilman McShane for an unknown reason. But her name and mug shot were front and center along with the speculation about an extramarital relationship and an illegitimate child. So far there was no comment from the McShane camp.

He scrolled through the blog. “This could blow my deal with Dave.”

The reason he’d married her to begin with. “I really hope it doesn’t come to that, Rick.”

“I got the impression he’s not a real technically savvy guy, despite his interest in investing in technology.” Rick sighed. “Let’s keep him from the computer and hide the newspapers, just in case. I’ll shut off the Wi-Fi.”

“And Plan B?” In her experience, it was always wise to have a backup plan. An excuse. A lie. A diversion.

“I don’t know, Jade.” He dragged his hands along the length of his face. “I feel like a whore.”

She ruffled his hair playfully. “Welcome to my world.”

“What won’t I do to get this money?” His words and tone gave away his torment over the ethics of his actions. He’d never have come up with the plan on his own. It had taken a sleazy lawyer to come up with the devious plot. And a streetwise whore to work out the details. “Deception. Trickery. Karaoke. Now this.”

“It’s not murder, Rick. It’s dancing.”

“It’s not just dancing,” he growled. “It’s lying. We’ve deceived them in the worst possible way, to separate them from their money.”

“For their own good. You’re going to make them a pile of dough, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “I notice you aren’t too concerned about the lies until you’re about to get caught.” Typical man. Sorry he got caught, not sorry.

“Thanks, Jade. I didn’t think I could feel any worse.”

She patted his cheek. “Anything to help.”

“I don’t really dance.”

“Oh, sweetie, neither do I. If I had any rhythm at all, I’d have a career in stripping to look forward to.”

Jade pulled Rick along behind her by his hand, which felt more like they were leashed. What was more, he liked being bound to her. Reaching the front of the line amidst verbal jabs and hissing, she leaned in and whispered something to the doorman, a rather large man minus any sign of a neck. His eyes ping-ponged between the couple, probably trying to figure out the attraction. Jade, dressed in a short, tight, red, Mandarin-style dress with frog clasps, looked hot enough to get into any club, anywhere. Him, he could get a table at Olive Garden on a Thursday night.

The neckless doorman nodded a fraction of an inch. Barely noticeable at all, except apparently perceptible by Jade. He’d probably seen her enter and exit the club in the past with any number of clients way below her hot ratio. The guy no doubt assumed Rick and Jade had a business arrangement. He really wanted to shout to the world that she was his wife. But they also sort of had a business arrangement.

When the bouncer stopped Dave and Trudy, Jade said, “They’re with me.” Grudgingly, he allowed them entrance. It was a tactic the doorman should have seen coming, like spotting a hot chick hitchhiking along a country road. Once some driver pulled over to offer a ride, the hot chick’s unfuckable gal pal, newly paroled boyfriend, or entire family would rush out from hiding. Not that he knew the ploy from experience, since nothing that interesting ever happened to him. Jade was hands down the most exciting person to enter—and any minute now, exit—his life.

“What did you say to him?” He guessed she’d told him she was with the Make-a-Wish Foundation, granting a last dying request to Rick.

“Don’t ask.”

“I’m asking.”

Ignoring his inquiry, she commandeered a table yet to be cleared. The seats around it were still warm from the previous customers. She claimed the club was slow because of the early hour, but it felt claustrophobically packed to him. She’d picked a retro, eighties-themed dance club out of respect for their guests. Boy George blasted from the speakers. At least it wasn’t twenty-somethings shaking and gyrating on the dance floor to a hip-hop or techno beat. There were a few kids, probably for the sheer novelty of the place. But the target clientele were the deep-pocketed older variety, bringing to the forefront of his mind that Jade’s clients were probably older also.

“Wild enough?” Rick asked Dave in a covert whisper that came out as a shout on account of the music volume. He gave him a thumbs up. Jade to the rescue. She was a professional funfest, knowing all the best clubs, restaurants, and karaoke bars.

When “Like A Virgin” blared from the speakers, Jade asked Trudy, “Dance?”

A Madonna fan. Go figure
.

The middle-aged woman brightened like a hundred-watt bulb, nearly illuminating the entire club. Nodding to Jade, they clasped hands and swayed away to the dance floor. Closing his eyes, he shook his head. Dave swatted him on the arm, pointed to the girls, and chuckled.
Do we even need to be here?
Yes, to pay the bill. Rick had insisted on paying the previous night, even though his savings were dwindling. If he didn’t get an investor soon, he’d be forced back into the job market and out of the ranks of the self-employed entrepreneur. He’d stayed afloat the past year on consulting gigs, troubleshooting networking problems and such.

Rick ordered drinks all around when the cocktail waitress came by dressed in eighties garb. He melted into the booth to watch Jade dance. She’d claimed she had no dancing skills. But he’d happily watch her all night long, one dollar bill at a time, if that was what it took for the privilege. The downside being the other throngs of watchers in the club, all eyeing his wife. The two women laughed and did the bump, acting more like a couple of teenagers than grown women. Rick pondered what Jade’s childhood had been like. What kind of upbringing spawned an escort? Nightmarish thoughts of molestation flooded his imagination.
Don’t go there
.

She was typically angry enough to have had a tragic upbringing. Adversity brought greatness in some people, while in others it bred hopelessness. Not that she had reached hopelessness. Yet. She wasn’t a drug addict or alcoholic. She didn’t even consume coffee. Rick and Bob had overcome their less-than-adequate youth to become productive citizens. As far as childhoods went, he and Bob had been lucky, with a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, even if they had to usually prepare the food themselves.

The music transitioned into a slow dance.

“That’s my cue,” Dave said. He was gone from Rick’s side in a flash to “mix it up” and make some sweet romance with his wife. He wished him success.

Jade slowed the sway of her hips and the fluid motions of her arms. Her eyes closed. Her head moved in leisurely circles. Rick tensed when a guy slid next to her on the crowded dance floor, placing his hand on her hip. Rick bolted out of his seat. Eyeing the interloper critically over her shoulder, she shook her head and said something to the guy. Probably
dream on
or
get lost
or some other rejection that would crush his confidence. Once he slunk away, she beckoned Rick to her with one crook of her finger. He complied, again as if on a leash.
I can do this
. Slow dancing was nothing more than vertical fornication. They’d already proven they were good at fucking.