Liberation (2 page)

As Marci stepped from the car to the curb later that night, she could see that
Trois
was packed.  She pulled her coat more fully around her in the brisk fall evening. 

Adam smiled.  “You look lovely, miss.  Call whenever you’re ready.” 

In his late fifties, Adam had been assigned as her driver and personal armed security since she was twelve.  She considered him family.

“Thank you, Adam.  Turn in for the night and I’ll take a cab back to the building.”

“Miss Canfield…”

“I insist.  I won’t keep you waiting for me when I have no idea how long I’ll be here.  It isn’t right and you’ve been working around the clock.  Take a few days off and enjoy them, Adam.  Please.  You do so much for me.”  She winked.  “I know your lady love must miss you.”

The older man blushed.  “Are you sure, Marci?”  She nodded.  “Thank you.”  He pivoted to walk around the car and paused, turning back.  “I remember the day you were born.  Your father was frantic.  He would be incredibly proud of the woman you’ve become, Marci.”

“Thank you.  Go before I start crying on the sidewalk.  I’ll call you.”

With a jaunty salute, she watched as he rounded the front of the vehicle and slipped into the driver’s seat.  Seconds later, he was pulling away from the curb. 

Glancing in the opposite direction, she nodded at the car parked less than ten feet away that would continue to follow her.  Tyler stood outside the car, his partner was behind the wheel.  There would be a second team posted at the rear entrance and a third in the alleyway. 

No matter her age or level of power, a security detail around the clock was part of her life.  It was an essential aspect to being the sole heiress of a fortune that exceeded billions in assets. 

Both men returned her nod.  They would have already cleared the club with the owner’s assistance before opening and it meant Marci could relax inside without anyone babysitting her.  Every member of the security staff had pronounced
Trois
beautifully protected. 

Taking a deep breath, she took the stairs to the entry.  The bouncer at the front grinned.  “Good evening, Miss Canfield.  It’s so good to see you again,” he said in an accent flavored with his Russian origins.

“Thank you, Stav.  Is it busy tonight?” 

The huge man nodded.  “Natalia is throwing a birthday party for Miss Hernandez.  Have you met?”

“I don’t believe I have.” 

Opening the door for her, he said, “You’ll get along great.  It’s good that you’re back, miss.” 

With a smile, she stepped into the foyer and felt better than she had in a long time.  When she’d interned for Hudson Winters after graduate school, she’d gotten to know his best friend Natalia Roman.  Eventually, they’d talked about her club.  Intrigued but unsure if she’d fit in, the statuesque blonde insisted on giving her a membership to the exclusive establishment that catered primarily to ménage couples.

“If you don’t use it, it doesn’t matter.  Either way, you’ve lost nothing.  Come by.  There are no expectations.  Hudson uses it regularly and he doesn’t share his toys.”  Quietly, she’d added, “Your mother is not allowed inside and the security is above reproach.  Consider the club your personal bolt hole, should you need one.”

Throughout her time at Hudson’s company, the friends coaxed her out for drinks several times.  Despite their well-sculpted reputations, she’d liked and trusted them from the beginning.  She often wondered why the two of them weren’t a couple but as a private person herself, she hesitated to ask.

Natalia had been right about using
Trois
to wind down.  Though she didn’t interact with more than a few people, Marci loved sitting with a drink and just
being
.  The atmosphere was classy and the music eclectic. 

Every year since, she personally renewed her membership. 

After the death of her father, responsibilities with the company kept her busy.  It was a full time job ensuring Victoria didn’t destroy what Pritchard Canfield built. 

For months following his funeral, her mother literally seduced board members to her side.  With a majority vote, she could have altered core policies to increase her own checks.  Policies that would have alienated their staff and investors while going against everything her father represented. 

Distracted and committed to eighteen-hour workdays, it had been too long since she’d had a moment to enjoy the club.  It was good to be back, to take some time for herself.  The number one feeling
Trois
had always inspired was safety. 

Something she’d not often felt in her personal life. 

While her statement that Victoria was a rat who would eat her young was sarcastic, part of her had always wondered if her mother would turn violent. 

“Marciella!  It has been far
too long
since I’ve seen you!”  Natalia came from behind the podium and kissed both her cheeks.  Leaning back, she held her shoulders and stared into Marci’s eyes.  “You look different, darling.  Did something happen?”

Many would find the older club owner an odd friend for her to have but Marci had sensed a sort of kinship with her instantly.  She filled her in on the latest happenings with Victoria and couldn’t hide her embarrassment during certain portions of the story. 

When she’d told Hudson everything she planned regarding the board, she left out the personal aspect.  Something told her he suspected the rest but when news broke of Victoria’s wedding to Marci’s ex, there would have been no doubt. 

She confessed all of it to Natalia.

Her friend ran her palm over her hair and gripped her shoulder.  “Your mother was always evil.  I never understood what Pritchard saw in her and I’m glad you cut her off.” 

She grinned broadly.  “Now you must meet someone, a close friend of mine and Hudson’s.  She’s going to
love
you.”  A small frown formed on her face.  “Has it truly been more than a year since I’ve seen you?”

Marci nodded.  “Almost two.  The company took every minute.  It has quite a bit more to take before I can breathe again.  Has very much happened?”

Winking one of her electric blue eyes, she said, “Absolutely
everything
has happened.  Come.”

The main room of the club was decked out like a fairy wood.  “This is gorgeous, Natalia.” 

“When you meet Gabriella, you’ll understand.” 

Taking her hand, she led the way around the dance floor to a secluded seating area.  Several couches and chairs were positioned in a semi-circle. 

Hugging Marci to her side, she announced, “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Marciella Canfield, a wonderful friend who has emerged from the ashes.  Of course you know Hudson and I believe you’ve met Max and Micah.”  The two beautiful men nodded with gentle expressions.  “This is their Riya, her best friend Tawny, and her men Zach and Quinn.” 

Guiding her around the group, she shook hands and murmured pleasantries.  Riya and Tawny were animated and their intelligence was as obvious as their genuine love of life. 

She’d done business with Max in the past and all of them traveled in the same charity circuit.  Zach complimented her on a program she’d been working on to combat hunger among the poor in the Tri-State area and she thanked him in surprise.

Quinn added, “We’re part of the food division.  The entire project is inspired and we’re proud to be involved.  Your ideas have a very long reach, Miss Canfield.”

“Marci possesses one of the most brilliant business minds I’ve ever met.”  Hudson stood to kiss her cheek, squeezing her shoulder with a firm nod.  “It’s good you came.”

He was a man of few words and it always shocked her when he used them in praise.  He didn’t give it often or cheaply.  They weren’t more than a dozen years apart in age but Marci had wished more than once that her father had been as protective as the real estate tycoon had been from the morning she showed up to work for him. 

Natalia pulled her away and stopped in front of a woman with curly black hair that cascaded around her upper body.  She sat in a slim wheelchair. 

“This is Gabriella Hernandez.” 

Holding out her hand, she was struck by the woman’s brilliant smile.  “It’s so good to meet you, Miss Canfield.  Natalia and Hudson hoped we’d get a chance to meet.  He told me you might need some redesign work done.” 

Nodding, she took the warm hand gently.  “You’re the graphic artist?  He showed me some of your work and I was truly impressed.  Please call me Marci.”

“Then call me Brie.  Join us.”  She gestured to the low sofa beside her.

Shrugging her jacket from her shoulders and taking a seat, Marci was astonished at the way the woman seemed to glow.  “I understand the fairy wood now.”  Brie’s laughter floated on the air.  “You’re like a magical creature or something.”

“She gets that reaction often,” Hudson said from Brie’s other side.  “How are you holding up, Marci?” 

She caught him up and several of the men drew her into conversation about the company, Hudson’s involvement, and the planned restructuring.  The four males relaxed with their women between them and gave her fresh perspective on several issues. 

Hudson inclined his head in the redhead’s direction.  “Have Tawny take a look at your virtual security.  She charges a fortune but if you have any holes, she can plug them.”

The buoyant woman clasped her hands beneath her chin dramatically.  “Hudson, you’ll make me swoon.”

There was a pause before he added, “She’s certifiable but it’s the risk you take to get the best.”  His attempt to appear stern was lost when one side of his mouth quirked into a smile.

While they talked, Brie removed a sketchpad and began to draw.  Riya chuckled when Marci noticed.  “Any talk of business, the two of us tend to zone out.”  She shrugged.  “We can handle the logical but we gravitate to the creative.” 

“I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”  Soon, Marci found herself unable to follow the discussion because she was fascinated at the way Brie’s pencils flew over the page.  “You’re amazing.”  Turning the sketch, Marci found herself looking at a portrait of herself in profile. 

“I’ll add a bit of color to capture your strawberry blonde hair and the lovely blue-green of your eyes but I like the initial feel of it.”

Glancing up, she stared into Brie’s eyes.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.” 

Tawny snorted.  “You won’t again.  I can fucking guarantee that.  Her hand is twitching to finish that sketch.  We’ll all do lunch and give you the down and dirty scoop.”

“I’d like that.”

“Natalia said you emerged from the ashes.”  Sitting up, she rubbed her hands together.  The better light from the new position revealed a scattering of freckles on her alabaster skin.  “That means you should celebrate.  What do you drink?”

“Double whiskey, neat.”

“Oh, I
like
you!”

An hour later, Marci was buzzed and laughing harder than she’d ever laughed in her life.  Natalia came back several times to check on them.  At one point, she bent to kiss Hudson on the lips and Marci’s eyes went wide.  Standing up, the blonde winked and went back to mingle with her members. 

At her side, Brie whispered, “You really need
all
the latest and greatest news.”

“I’ve missed much more than I realized.”

“It’s an easy fix.”  Immediately, Brie removed a cell phone from the bag beside her and they exchanged numbers.  “This is our main group and you should be in it, Marci.”

“I appreciate the welcome.”

“I warn you though, we can be ridiculous.”  Whispering loudly, she pointed comically at Tawny.  “Especially you-know-who…she has no filter.”

“
Hey
…wait.  No, that’s right.”

Marci grinned.  “I spend my life around filtered people.  The change is good.”

She felt comfortable with them, able to relax in ways she usually struggled to accomplish.  She noticed that Hudson and Natalia were similarly affected.  At one point, her gaze locked with the stern business mogul. 

“We are much the same, Marciella.  You disconnected by necessity but you’re young.  These women can help you ease the pressure.  They almost force one to have a good time.” 

“I’ll try not to put up a fight.”

“That’s best.  Natalia will kidnap you to save time.  Tawny fights dirty.  Riya will gently logic you into conceding.  Brie will bake and hug you into submission.”  His evaluation set off a round of laughter and conversation. 

It was marvelous.

Near midnight, Marci felt boneless.  She stretched out on the small sofa, chatted with Brie, and felt better in her own skin than she had in a long time. 

When the dark-haired woman saw her looking at the wheelchair, she explained, “I’m not paralyzed.  I had an accident earlier this year.  I’m still in physical therapy and I get tired easily.  I’m getting stronger every day.”  She tapped the padded arms.  “I’ll be rid of this in a few months.”

“You have a great attitude.”

“Thanks.  By the way, there are a couple of men at your nine o’clock who seem completely taken with you.  Do you know them?”

Casually turning her head, she saw two men at the bar who were, in fact, staring in their direction.  They were vaguely familiar, attractive, and clearly wealthy. 

Looking at Brie, she grinned.  “They’re more than likely looking at
you
.  I don’t inspire that sort of attention.  I’m a bit stuffy.”

The artist laughed.  “Stuffy…I think not.  You’ve been a riot since you sat down.  A few drinks, some good conversation, and your natural social butterfly appears with a flourish.” 

Leaning closer, Brie added, “Remember, the expectation of who you’re
supposed
to be is not the same as who you
are
.  You can be whoever you’d like, Marci.”  Cutting her eyes up and back again, she nodded.  “They’re looking at
you
.  Not me, not anyone else in our group.  You. 

“Men…confuse me.  They make me uncomfortable.  I always feel
off
around them.”

Riya said quietly, “That’s residual negativity leftover from past relationships.  You can overcome it.  You should trust me on that one.  Every person, every situation, is a fresh start.  Do you dance?” 

“Only formal.  I had to learn for events.”

Tawny’s mouth dropped open.  Then she whispered loudly, “A
protégé
.  Riya, we haven’t had one in forever!  Can we keep her?”

“Slow your roll, Red.”  To the rest of the group, Riya murmured, “Does anyone know the pair personally?  We can’t allow our new friend to fall into trouble.”

With a loud snort, Tawny quipped, “The hell we can’t.  Some kinds of trouble are just what a woman needs in her life.  Those two…oh yeah, they’d be the good kind of trouble.”

Hudson glanced up from his conversation with Micah.  “They are cousins from the Middle East who are in possession of wealth that could buy all of us out of our respective lives.” 

“Shut the fuck up…seriously?” Tawny asked a little too loudly. 

He grinned and it wasn’t an expression that Marci had ever seen him wear.  “They’ve been members of a similar club in Amsterdam for more than a decade.  Natalia vets new members with a remarkable attention to detail.  It’s a habit I greatly appreciate.”

Sipping her drink, Marci relaxed against the sofa and all thoughts of the pair’s possible interest vanished instantly.  The others stared at her.

“Wait.  Are you playing hard to get?”  The outgoing redhead had a confused look on her face.  “Bitch, you’re not going to
introduce
yourself?”

Laughing, Marci shook her head.  “I’m a female known as the
repressed nerd
who goes to work early and leaves late, a strong candidate for ending up a lonely spinster poring over stock reports and charity engagements, and who has no desire to ever have children.  Trust me, I’m not their
type
.”

“Enlighten me on what you believe our
type
to be, Miss Canfield,” said an amused voice just behind her to the left.  The accent was exotic, every word enunciated perfectly, and deep.

There was a chuckle and a similar voice to the right added, “I rather enjoy stock reports and charity engagements.  Additionally, children are highly overrated, in my personal opinion.” 

Meeting Tawny’s gaze across from her, she narrowed her eyes at being set up.  The woman blew her
kisses
.  Delicately clearing her throat, she put down her drink, sat up, and turned to peer over the couch. 

The sight of them up close was…disconcerting.  “Hello.” 

Lifting her palm from the back of the couch, the first man kissed it.  “I am Fahad Ghonim and this is my cousin Nuri Ghonim.  Your reputation precedes you but media photos have
not
done you justice.”

Out of her element, Marci said, “Reporters always manage to take me by surprise.  I get nervous.”

For a long moment, the two men stared at her intently and she fought to control her blush the way she’d learned from one of her father’s advisors. 

“A topic for another time, perhaps.  Allow us a few minutes of your time, Miss Canfield,” Nuri said.

Suddenly, she understood their focus on her.  “Ah, business.  In that, I can converse intelligently.” 

Tugging her hand from Fahad’s, she stood and walked confidently around the seating area, gesturing to a nearby table. 

The men approached slowly and her assumption of their interest was instantly shaken.  Even the way they walked exuded sexuality.  From the corner of her eye, she saw the group watching the three of them with unconcealed curiosity.

The cousins stopped close enough for her to catch a delicate hint of cologne that went straight to her head.  In her heels, they were almost the same height, putting them both around five-ten.  There was a capability about them that told her what they lacked in height, they made up for in ferocity. 

They wore slacks and dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up.  She imagined suit jackets and ties had been discarded upon entering
Trois
.  They didn’t strike her as the type to go without them.

Low enough that only she could hear, Nuri told her, “You are exquisite.”

“Perhaps one day, we will discuss business with you, Miss Canfield but that is not tonight.  At
this
moment, we wish to learn more about the woman we have admired for many years.”  Fahad stared intently into her eyes.

“My father took my education and training seriously,” she replied automatically.

Fahad’s eyes met hers.  “Our condolences on his death.  He was a good man.” 

“Thank you.  I miss him.”  She instantly blamed the alcohol she’d consumed for a statement that was unusually personal.  It was rare that she mentioned anything about her feelings to people she didn’t know well.  Even with closer acquaintances, she was intensely private. 

They didn’t touch her but their fixed gazes gave her a similar sensation.  No one had ever looked at her in such a way. 

“Does our attention make you uncomfortable, Miss Canfield?” Fahad asked gently.

“Attention?”

“Attraction is a better word,” Nuri clarified.

Naturally cautious about how she presented herself to others, especially men, Marci paused to consider her answer.  “I’m unaccustomed but not uncomfortable.”

There was a long silence.  “You are not accustomed to the attraction of men?” 

“I am accustomed to being an acquisition.  I am accustomed to being a means to an end.  I am not accustomed to the attention
or
attraction of men whose wealth surpasses my own.  No.” 

A slow smile spread over Nuri’s face.  “It is a feat that must be hellishly difficult to accomplish.”

Before she could temper the reaction, she laughed. 
Truly laughed.
  “To be blunt, this is the first time it’s been accomplished at all in my personal experience.” 

Fahad inclined his head.  “Shall we sit?” 

As the words left his mouth, they stepped to her sides and gently took her elbows.  They led her past the table she’d suggested to a more private seating area where a couch and two chairs were arranged. 

Marci assumed they’d take the chairs and schooled her features when they settled on either side of her on the couch.  They sat closer to the edge, angled in her direction.  They released her when they sat, careful not to touch her, and it was unusual to have her personal space so well respected by members of the opposite sex. 

“Tell us what you believe our type to be, Miss Canfield.” 

“I don’t want to…”

“You will not offend us.  Please.”  Fahad’s voice was gentle and Nuri simply watched her.

Clearing her throat, she sat back and crossed her legs.  After the confrontation with Victoria, she’d dressed in her customary business suit and gone to the office.  It was dark green, tailored to her exact proportions, and made her feel confident. 

The alcohol she’d consumed didn’t hurt.

Honesty was second nature to her.  She’d been born with an almost pathological need to tell the truth at all times.  “In my life, I’ve met two distinct types of men.  Those who wish to gain their own wealth through the use of mine or those that see me as a chess piece to be positioned for greatest effect toward the growth of their existing wealth.  That is not to say that you are either, it’s just the frame of reference that I know.” 

Nuri nodded. “Continue.”

“The first sort is easy to pinpoint.  They bore quickly with the long game and I don’t suffer fools easily.  Unlike men in the same position, I refuse to shower them with gifts, take them on expensive vacations, or give them an unlimited line of credit.”  She quirked her brow.  “Most days, that type is lucky if I answer a call.”

Fahad’s eyes sparkled.  “They
would
seem to be a waste of valuable time.”

“Have you had many such men attempt to win you?”

“Through high school and college, it was ridiculous.”  She smiled.  “Once I assumed my first position with the company, most realized their attempts would be futile.”

“The second sort of man?”

“Those who have wealth of their own tend to see me as a smart business decision.  They don’t see me as a person and their focus on me is practical.  Typically, when I reject them, they go on to acquire the trophy wife they really wanted and probably needed.  A woman bent solely to their care and comfort, satisfied to exist in a specific capacity and live as the extension of a powerful man.”

“A woman who is similar to a tool used for parties, heirs, and smoothing ruffled feathers.”

“Yes.  Precisely.”

“I imagine that sort of existence would strangle you slowly,” Fahad said.

She revealed her surprise before she was able to cover the reaction.  “Yes.”

Their black eyes were heavily lashed and intense.  She’d never held eye contact for so long with men outside of a business meeting but it was almost impossible to look away. 

“You enjoy your work.  It will always compete heavily with relationships in your personal life.”  She nodded, speechless.  “A stance accepted for men but frowned upon in a woman.”  Nuri paused.  “We find it thrilling to see a woman with the drive and sense of purpose that we possess.”

Fahad stated, “The world is small,
our
world smaller still.”

“Sometimes painfully so,” she whispered.  At her confession, the silence drew out. 

“You traveled to Dubai with your father when you were a teenager.”  The change of topic caused her to stiffen and both of them noticed.  Fahad brushed the back of his hand across hers.  “You spent your time in our country exploring with a massive security team in tow.”