Twisted Affair, Vol. 1

  He opened the passenger's door of his minivan and shook my head as I climbed in. No Westmore should drive a minivan. Our parents had five kids and never even considered a minivan. Then again, we never really did the whole family outing thing either. Samuel made sure his family did stuff together all the time. Maybe that was how he'd gotten such good kids.

  “What do you remember about what happened last night?” Samuel asked as he started the vehicle.

  I frowned as I thought. “I went to Exotica. Met Tommy there.”

  “Tommy.” Samuel said the name with all the affection he would've used to say an STD.

  I ignored him and kept going. “Saw a couple dances. Drank some beer. Did a little X.” Shit. Had I gotten caught with that leftover tab?

  “And then?”

  The fact that Samuel wasn't busting my balls over the drugs meant that whatever had happened had been a hell of a lot worse than a drunk and disorderly.

  “I got a private dance.” I rubbed my head. Things were starting to get fuzzy. “Pretty sure I fucked her too, but it was one hundred percent consensual.” I was the kind of guy who liked to screw around, but I never forced anyone, no matter how drunk I was.

  “After that?”

  “I think I had some shots of something.”

  “What about after you left Exotica?”

  Images flashed through my mind, but they were broken and didn't make any sense. They couldn't be memories. They had to be dreams I'd had after I passed out. “Nothing,” I said.

  Samuel sighed. “You don't remember stealing a horse?”

  “A horse?” I stared at him.

  “New York sent a bunch of their mounted police to do a demonstration to our police force.”

  Oh, fuck. This didn't sound good. I groaned. “What did I do?”

  “Well, based on the report, you approached one of the New York officers, asked him if you could ride his wife, grabbed his hat and then stole his horse. They chased you for three blocks before you stopped, got off the horse and made several rude sexual comments regarding the cops, their horses and various members of their family.”

  I laughed. I couldn't help it. I'd really done all that?

  “It's not funny, Blayne,” Samuel snapped. “You're in a lot of trouble and I don't know if I can get you out of it this time.”

  “You can.” I leaned back in my seat. “You're a great lawyer. It’s a horse for god’s sake.”

  “I'm a corporate attorney,” he said. “I only know criminal law from saving your ass. And I don't think there's anything I can do. You're in some serious shit here.”

  I shook my head and looked out the window. I frowned as I realized we weren't heading into the central part of the city, but rather out to where the old neighborhoods were. The ones with expensive houses that had been around since the country had been founded. Out where I'd grown up.

  “Dammit, Samuel!” I glared at my brother. “You're taking me to Mom and Dad's?”

  Samuel's expression tightened. “The police commissioner called Dad personally. My hands are tied. You tied them.”

  I slumped back in my seat. Betrayed by my own flesh and blood. I'd have to spend the next hour or so listening to my father tell me all the ways I'd disappointed him and how I’d stained the Westmore family name. If he was really pissed, he'd start in on what Benjamin Franklin would've thought of someone like me.

  Based on what I'd read about my ancestor, I thought old Ben and I would've gotten along pretty well. I made the mistake of saying that once when I'd been a mouthy thirteen year-old and ended up being grounded for six months and assigned a fifteen-page report on America's greatest Founding Father.

  “You could've just paid the bail and let me go,” I groused, entirely aware that I sounded like a spoiled child.

  “No, Blayne. I couldn't.” Samuel glanced at me. “This has got to stop.”

  I rolled my eyes. I'd heard this speech before.

  “And that's what Dad's going to say.” He pulled into the driveway of the large colonial house where we'd grown up. “For once, Blayne, listen to the old man.”

  I didn't respond as I climbed out of the car. I loved my brother, especially since he was the only one who put up with my shit without making me feel like a failure. But right now he sucked, I didn't like being told I needed to listen to our dad.

  The butler opened the door before I knocked and gave me a dirty look when I walked past him. I ignored the man. He'd been with the family for about eight years or so, but I still didn't know his name. Not because he was 'the help’, but because he was a dick.

  I didn't ask where my father was because I already knew. He was where he always was when I had to come talk to him. His office. Like he actually did work from there instead of using it to check his stock portfolio. I'd always suspected he wanted to see me in there because it made it clear how he was successful and I wasn't.

  I didn't knock on the door. I wasn't really in the mood to be polite. Dad was at his desk and he looked up when I opened the door, his irritation plain on his face. Even when he summoned me, he always managed to make it feel like I'd interrupted him at work.

  “I see Samuel decided not to stop in and say hello.” His tone was mild. “Have a seat.” He gestured toward the chair across from him.

  I crossed my arms and leaned on the doorframe.

  “Have it your way.” He leaned back in his chair. He and my oldest two siblings looked alike. His hair was mostly gray now, but there were still hints of the blond it had once been. His eyes were a pale blue, a faded sort of denim. I'd been glad I'd gotten the darker colors from my mom. She and I didn't get along much, but I was always grateful I didn't see my father when I looked into the mirror.

  “What's it this time, Dad?” I asked, just wanting to get this over with. My head was pounding. My mouth tasted like shit and all I wanted was a drink to take the edge off and then get some sleep.

  He raised his eyebrows, but his voice stayed even and calm. “I assume your brother informed you of what you did last night?”

  I shrugged. “Got wasted. Did stupid stuff. Not the first time.”

  “But it will be the last.” His tone hardened.

  “Dad–” I started.

  “Enough, Blayne!”

  My jaw snapped shut and I ground my teeth together. My temper was usually easy to control, but my family always managed to get it to the surface.

  “I have put up with a lot from you over the years. Embarrassing our family, pulling all sorts of stunts that have cost us time and money. And every time, I have forgiven you, bailed you out.”

  I started to open my mouth to argue with him, remind him of exactly how much help he'd actually given me, but I didn't. That'd just prolong things and I'd rather listen to his bullshit and leave than drag things out just to try to make a point to someone who would never listen anyway.

  “Not this time. I'm putting my foot down.”

  Now that was interesting. I wonder what he meant by that. It didn't take long for me to figure it out because the next words out of his mouth were direct.

  “You're going to straighten up, or I'm cutting you off.”

  “Excuse me?” I started to laugh, but the sound died in my throat when I saw he was serious. “What do you think I can do? I flunked out of two colleges and dropped out of two more. I have no degree and, as you've pointed out more than once, I'm not really good for anything more than being a royal fuck-up.”

  Dad's mouth twisted as if he'd tasted something sour. “This is what is going to happen. No more drunken escapades. No more drugs. You have one month to find your own place of employment. I'll give you that much. If you haven't found somewhere to work by the end of February, you will take a job at one of our family's companies. One that I choose.”

  Like hell I would. I wasn't about to become some stuffed suit ass-monkey.

  “And that's not all.”

  I stiffened. Him trying to control what I did in my free time as well as work wasn't enough? What
else could he do?

  “You are going to stop this nonsense with these strippers and other inappropriate women. Within the next six months, you will marry a suitable woman.”

  I barked a laugh. “There is no fucking way I'm going to do any of that.”

  “Very well.” He picked up a folder and held it up. “Then this is what will happen, effective immediately. Your credit cards will be canceled. All payments to them will cease. Your trust fund will be split among your nieces and nephews, your inheritance between your siblings. Next month's rent will not be paid. Your car payments will stop. Your bank accounts frozen.”

  My hangover had to be messing with my hearing or processing power. There was no way my father would cut me off. Not completely. He might get a bit mad and cut back my allowance, but this?

  “I've already had the paperwork drawn up,” he said, shaking the folder. “Including a new will. If you don't agree to my terms, the moment you walk out of here, you're done. No more money. No financial support.”

  My tongue was thick, and tried to stick to the roof of my mouth. “You'd let me get kicked out of my place? Lose my car?” I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

  “If it teaches you some responsibility, then yes.” He tapped the folder again. “Absolutely.”

  “I-I...” I had no clue what I was supposed to say. “The job thing, okay, but marriage? How the hell am I supposed to find some appropriate woman to marry in six months?” Hell, I didn’t know anyone who came close to appropriate.

  “That won't be as difficult as you think,” he said.

  I didn't like the sound of that.

  “I have the perfect match for you. She's in her early twenties, beautiful, and from a good family who does business with us.”

  “You want me to marry one of your business partner's daughters.” I made it a statement so I could see if it made sense when I heard it out loud. It didn't.

  “Our families are having dinner tomorrow at six. You will be here.”

  I was now wishing I'd sat down. How had this happened? Just last night, I'd been out having fun with my friends, hooking up with a smoking hot chick. Now, my father was telling me that life was over. I had to marry some rich society bitch and get a respectable job or lose everything.

  “The choice is yours, Blayne,” he said. “But you have to make it before you leave the house today. No more screwing around.”

  Dammit.

  Chapter 3

  Blayne

  My siblings were at the house with their families by the time I arrived. Not really a surprise. They were all perfect. Pretty much the worst thing any of them did was Samuel helping me out. Not that he'd done much yesterday.

  I scowled at him as he set down his squirming youngest. Prudence came running over to me and I picked her up. She was the youngest of my nieces and nephews and, for some crazy reason, I was her godfather. Even after five years, I couldn't believe Samuel had managed to talk Hannah into it.

  I focused on the girl's chatter as I went to join everyone else in the dining room. The other kids, ranging all the way up to Cecily's oldest, Tabitha, were sitting at the 'kids' table, though the older ones were looking quite unhappy at their placement. I sighed as I handed Prudence off to fourteen year-old Jonathan. He took his sister and then I was forced to join the adults.

  My brothers-in-law both looked bored, but everyone knew how this worked. When my father said mandatory family time, he meant it for everyone. Both Gerald and Hamilton had money and prestige, but that was part of how this whole thing worked. All of the high society families in the city had to stick together. They'd talk behind each other’s backs, criticize and ridicule, but heaven forbid anyone try to infiltrate the circle.

  I'd barely sat down when the doorbell rang and the butler showed the Stirling family in. Both Mr. and Mrs. Stirling had on the usual fake smiles that people in our social circle wore when they tried to pretend they were friends rather than just admitting it was all about the money and the name.

  I did smile for real when I saw her though. Rebecca was hot. Light blond hair and hazel eyes. She was tall, but I was tall enough that she could wear heels and still need to tilt her head to look at me. She was a bit thinner than I liked. Not because I disliked slender girls, but because it was obvious it wasn't her natural build. I'd seen Ashlyn try to starve her curves so she looked more like our older sister Caitlyn. Rebecca didn't look healthy, but for all I knew it was stress. Considering the whispering I heard from my siblings, Rebecca had been put in charge of one of her family's companies when her older brother took off for Europe after some chick dumped him. Stress was a good possibility. I wondered if she knew why she was here.

  “So you're Rebecca.” I gave her my most charming smile and pulled out the chair next to me. That earned me an approving look from my father and prompted an urge to flip someone off. I behaved myself though.

  “And you're Blayne.” She smiled back, but it didn't reach her eyes.

  That answered my unasked question. She knew our families had been discussing us getting married. I didn't blame her for being pissed. I was getting blackmailed. She was getting offered up like some sort of prize. Had to suck for her. Then again, she was getting me. It wasn't like I was repulsive.

  Neither was she, I thought as she sat down and crossed her legs. Even on the thin side, she was hot and there was something about her that told me she was probably good in bed.

  “I've heard of you,” she said as our parents started in on some conversation about mergers and the economy. “The Westmore's wild child.”

  “Really?” I smiled and angled my chair so that my knee brushed against her thigh. “All good things, I hope.”

  She cocked her head. “Depends on what you mean by good. I've heard you like to party.”

  “True,” I said.

  “And that you'll sleep with pretty much anyone who opens their legs.”

  “Ouch.” I put my hand on my chest as if I was hurt by the claim and then I laughed. “Not entirely accurate, but not really inaccurate either.”

  She reached for her wine glass and took a long drink. “I'm just wondering what would make someone like you agree to settle down.” She gestured to herself. “I'm far from unattractive, but agreeing to marriage seems a bit out of character based on what I know about you.”

  I considered lying, but I figured she'd find out sooner or later. Better she heard it from me. “My father threatened to cut me off if I didn't straighten up. Part of that was getting married to a 'suitable woman’.”

  Her laugh was brittle. “Nice that two families with money have to make it all about money.”

  “What are yours using against you?”

  She shrugged and drained her glass. “I wasn't my parent’s first choice to run their company. It had always been Reed – the chosen one. For the past month, I've been running things, but that's not enough for them. They want a merger with your family and I'm just a chess piece to be used.”

  Wow, there was some serious bitter in that.

  “Don't worry, Blayne,” she said with a tight smile. “I accepted my place in this world a long time ago.”

  I didn't have a response for that. Rebecca didn't seem like the nicest girl in the world, but she certainly deserved better than a forced marriage. Especially to someone like me.

  “Attention, please.”

  My father's voice cut through all of the chatter. All eyes turned to him as the butler refilled our drinks.

  “I'd like to propose a toast.”

  Spiders crawled up my spine. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what was coming next.

  Dad held up his glass and everyone else followed suit, including me. I hoped this would be a generic speech about friendship and building bridges, but I doubted I'd be that lucky.

  “To our future,” he said. “The Westmores and the Stirlings, joined together in business and in love. To Rebecca and Blayne.”

  Judging by the startled expressions on my siblings' faces, Dad hadn't told them
the plans.

  “We're thinking a spring wedding,” Mrs. Stirling said with a smile toward Rebecca. “Pastels, of course.”

  “We'll want to make the announcement in a couple weeks,” my mother added. “Benjamin and I were thinking we'd do something tasteful for the public, with specialized invitations for everyone who matters.”

  “The guest list is going to be a nightmare,” Mrs. Stirling said. “We're going to have to find a huge venue if we want all the important people to be there.”

  “Maybe a small reception then,” my mother countered. “Something personal, with just our closest friends.”

  I couldn't keep the laughter in at that one. Everyone glared at me.

  “Something funny, Blayne?” my father asked.

  “Are any of my friends even going to be invited?” I asked. I glanced at Rebecca. One corner of her mouth twitched in an effort not to smile. “I'm assuming Benjamin and Samuel would be my groomsmen, but I don't suppose I'd get to choose anyone else. You're going to do that for me, right?”

  “Blayne.”

  I heard the warning note in my father's voice, but I didn't care. The anger I'd been keeping back bubbled up. I stood.

  “You know what,” I said. “I don't think this is going to work for me.” I looked down at Rebecca. “Nothing personal, Becca. In fact, I think you deserve to be someone's first choice, not a bargaining chip.”

  “That's enough.” My father slammed his hand down on the table.

  “You're right,” I agreed. “That is enough. You can force me into marriage, but I'm not going to let you force anyone else into marrying someone like me. I'm a screw up, remember?” I made a decision and didn't second guess myself. “I'm not marrying her.”

  Before anyone could react to my statement, I turned around and walked away. I was at the door before my dad started shouting at me to come back.

  Chapter 4

  Katka

  I stretched out on my sister's bed as she dressed for work. We were quite the pair, the two of us. She was the older sister, the one who'd watched out for both of us since our parents had died. Actually, she'd watched out for me even before that. Livie Dusek was the perfect big sister. Me? I was the wild child, the younger one who sometimes needed her big sister to bail her out. Never out of anything serious, but I did have a knack of leaping before I looked.