A Case of Defamation Pt. 07

NINETEEN

Shay had given up on trying to develop an excuse to get Dan's ex-partner, Neil, to talk to her. She couldn't fabricate a convincing story, and she had nothing to use as leverage. The fact was, she had nothing, not one damn thing, that would stand up in court. All she had were guesses and the testimony of an admitted liar. Given that Neil only owned the site someone used to contact Lindsey, there wasn't a shred of evidence connecting Neil to the rumors or Lindsey.

She decided she'd begin by trying to link Neil and Lindsey. If she could make that connection, that would give her something to use as a foundation in building evidence against Neil. The easiest way would be to go back to Lindsey and show her a picture of Neil, but by now Lindsey probably knew she'd been conned, and that bridge was almost certainly burned. She still had to try, and being unable to find a good picture of Neil online, Shay was using the time-honored technique of stalking him.

This morning, Dan had followed her to Hertz where she'd returned the rental and then taken her to the Toyota dealer. Now she was parked in her own car again, outside Squarepeg, well away from the door but where she had a clear line of sight while she waited for Neil to appear.

She picked up her phone and sent Dan a text, just to have something to do. Bored she typed and pressed send. She didn't expect an immediate answer, and didn't get one.

Dan's life was returning to normal. Mairead Cowan had taken him back as her trainer, though Greer Schoenmaker hadn't, at least not yet. Once she busted Neil for the rumors, maybe he'd even get Greer back. She thought it funny that the only two clients who had stood steadfast with Dan through his troubles was that nasty old coot, Greg Mills, and the former pornographer, Jason Orsini. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised, given their reputations, and she still didn't like Greg's attitude or Jason's profession, but she'd softened toward them considerably because of their support for Dan.

Squarepeg LLC was a small company operating out of a unit in a strip mall, and she sighed as she casually watched the door. Waiting for something to happen was the second worst part of her job, but at least it didn't make her want to cry.

To pass the time, she thought about the game she and Dan had played last night. She smiled in memory and began to moisten almost immediately. She'd read about the game in a magazine some time back, about how it was a good introduction to bondage because nobody was actually bound. She had no interest in bondage, but the article had popped into her mind when he was pulling his shirt over his head to join her in the tub. Seeing his muscular body pulled taunt, the sinews and muscles rippling under his skin as they were stretched tight, had instantly turned her on. She'd first noticed how him being stretched out excited her during their initial night together, during their second romp when he'd reached over his head to push against the headboard as she rode him, and she wanted to see more of it, to see him really straining at something as she fucked the shit out of him.

She hadn't been disappointed. She honestly thought he'd throw in the towel and let go before she could work herself up to a second orgasm, but the strength of his will had surprised her. Watching him strain against the hanger and his need, his muscles bulging and writhing, his face twisted in erotic pain as he fought his orgasm, had turned her on so much she'd come again even though she hadn't expected too. Her orgasm was a bonus, but having him break the hanger before giving up, along with his cries of defiance and pleasure, and then holding her tight while he bucked and jerked, muttering and whimpering into her shoulder, had been intoxicating. They'd snuggled a bit after that before he wrapped her warm and secure in his arms, and they'd tumbled into the darkness of sleep. They were fucking themselves to exhaustion, and it was wonderful.

As she dressed this morning, she'd taken another hanger like the one he'd broken the night before and tested its strength. She thought that if she put it on the floor and used her foot to hold it down while pulling up with all her strength, she might be able to break it, but it was a quality hanger, and she had no illusions of being able to break it with only her upper body strength. To do what he did, Dan had to be incredibly strong, but he was also gentle. Even when he was tossing her around in the bed, she never felt like she was in danger of being hurt. In fact, he manhandled her so easily, as if it wasn't any effort at all, she felt perfectly safe with him supporting her or throwing her around. Before that night, she hadn't realized she liked being gently dominated, but when she was in the mood for it, and Dan was the one dominating her, she did.

She leaned her head back against the seat. Thinking about him was getting her worked up, but they were going to have to take a break tonight. Even if she ended up spending the night with him, he was going to have to keep his cock out of her. Despite visiting a dojo once a week to keep her ju-jitsu skills sharp, she'd become out of shape in other ways, and now certain muscles and fleshy parts of her body that hadn't been getting regular workouts were sore. She smiled to herself. No matter. If she and Dan continued their relationship, she was certain he'd whip them into shape in no time... because this was an exercise regime she could get into.

She glanced at the clock on her phone. It was nearing five, and she'd been lying in wait for over six hours. Neil came in early, came in late, or didn't work in his office every day, because she hadn't seen him. It wasn't unusual for her to go two or three days without setting foot in her office, and maybe Neil was the same. She smiled slightly as she imagined someone stalking her like she was stalking Neil, sitting outside her office thinking, Where the fuck is she? or Doesn't this bitch ever work?

She decided she was going to wait another thirty minutes, and if Neil hadn't appeared by then, she was going to give up for the day. She picked up her phone again and began to type a text to Dan. Why don't you join me for dinner at my place tonight? 7:00? I'll cook. Bring clothes if you want to spend the night. She pressed send. Another sixty seconds had passed as she typed. She tossed the phone back into the seat with a sigh.

She was almost praying for a junk email or a wrong number when her phone chimed. She picked it up and felt a little rush of excitement seeing a text was waiting. She opened the text and smiled. How can you be bored? You're easily the most exciting woman I've ever met.

She started to reply, thrilled to have something to do and someone to talk to, when her phone chimed with the arrival of another text. Love too. See you there.

She thought a moment and typed. I'm only exciting because you make me that way.

Tosh! Last night wasn't my idea. I never knew a clothes hanger could be so damned sexy. See? You can make even clothes hangers exciting.

She giggled to herself in the empty car. Not only was Dan terrific in bed, a pleasure to look at, a masterful chef, and fun to talk to, he was also great for her ego. As she was thinking of a reply, the idea of cooking for Dan suddenly terrified her. She typically made easy to prepare dishes that made a lot, so there'd be leftovers, meaning she only had to cook two or three times a week. He'd likely turn his nose up at them as they were probably loaded with fat and calories. She glanced up to make sure Neil wasn't around before turning her attention back to her phone.

She didn't spend much time playing with her phone when surveilling someplace because it was a distraction that could cause her to miss the very thing she was looking for. She spent a couple of minutes looking for healthy recipes, but she was afraid she was spending too much time looking down, so she tossed the phone back into the passenger seat. She'd have to do it later, when she got home.

Shay was beginning to fidget, waffling between leaving and giving the surveillance another few minutes, when she saw a portly man stepping out of a BMW with a fast-food bag and a drink. He had the same general build as Neil, so she lifted her camera to use the long zoom lens for a better look. It was him. She snapped a couple pictures, but she really needed one that wasn't the side of his face, so she used the old standby. Using her elbow, she laid on the car horn while her hands were busy with the camera. Neil instinctively turned to look for the location of the sound. She snapped three nice ones of his face before pulling the camera down.

"Gotcha!" she muttered in victory.

Putting the camera aside, she pulled her computer from the backseat. The memory card came out of the camera, and three minutes later, she had Neil's face ready for Lindsey to see. Using her phone as a hotspot, she searched the internet and downloaded four pictures of random men who were similar in appearance to Neil. Task finished, she closed her computer and started the car. Now came the hard part.

Squarepeg and Lindsey's house were on opposites sides of the greater Los Angeles metroplex, and she spent over an hour driving from Burbank to Santa Ana. Shay didn't call Lindsey to tell her she was coming because she didn't want the woman dodging her. She'd start with Lindsey's work, and if she didn't find her there, she'd try her house.

It was just after six when Shay walked into the Lancer Inn, computer in hand, but instead of Lindsey, there was an older, massively overweight woman sitting behind the counter. "Welcome to the Lancer Inn, may I help you?" she asked with a welcoming, if false smile.

"I'm looking for Lindsey Rohmer. She here today?"

The woman's face pinched like she'd bitten into a lemon. "She no longer works here. You a reporter?"

"What happened?"

"You haven't heard? She tried to sue some guy for sexual assault, and it turned out to be a lie."

Shay shook her head. "I knew that, but why'd she lose her job?"

"Because there were news crews parked out front wanting to talk to her. It was scaring off the customers, so I fired her. You a reporter, a lawyer?" the woman asked again.

"No. Thank you for your time," Shay said before she turned to leave.

As Shay settled into her car she felt a little bad for Lindsey, but only a little. She'd brought this on herself.

Running late. Can we make dinner eight? she typed before starting the car.

She drove to Lindsey's house, her phone dinging as she turned into the road that passed Lindsey's home. According to the DMV, Lindsey drove a 1999 bronze Toyota Corolla, and there was a battered little Corolla that some might call bronze sitting in the drive. Shay pulled to a stop in the street before picking up her phone.

Sure. Everything okay? the message from Dan read.

Can't talk now, but all good. See you at eight, she responded before stepping out of the car, her computer under her arm. She walked up the drive and rapped on the door. After a moment Lindsey opened it, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

"You!" she snarled. "You've got a lot of nerve coming here! Get lost before I call the cops!"

Lindsey started to shut the door, but Shay put her foot in the jamb. "Ms. Rohmer, I just need a minute of your time."

"Move your fucking foot or I'm calling the cops!"

"Don't you want to try to make this right?" Shay asked before removing her foot.

"Why the fuck do you care? You ruined my fucking life! I've lost my job because of you, and the television stations won't leave me alone. You lied to me!"

"Yes, I did," Shay admitted. "Don't you want to stick it to the man that started all this?" she asked, giving Lindsey a target for her wrath. "He's the one that put you in this situation," she suggested, even though it was total bullshit. Lindsey knew what she was doing when she agreed to try to set Dan up, but sometimes people couldn't admit they were wrong, so Shay was giving her someone to blame other than her.

"How?"

"May I come in?"

Lindsey glared at Shay for a moment, stepped back, and opened the door. Shay stepped in and handed her one of her business cards. She glanced at it and then stared at Shay.

"Daniel Beckette hired me to get to the bottom of the rumors. I've been working this case for almost two months, since before you came into the picture. I think the man that suckered you is the same man spreading the rumors."

"You mean the rumors aren't true, either?" Lindsey fell onto a chair with a sigh.

Shay shook her head. "I've talked to everyone I can find that works with, or knows, Mr. Beckette, and to a person, every one of them said he's an upstanding guy."

"Fuck," Lindsey muttered as she leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. "I'm such a fuck-up."

"You want to try to make this right? Do the right thing and help me nail this bastard."

"I just want it all to end."

"This will help. If I can prove Neil Mitchell is behind all this, the media might go after him and forget about you. You'll become another victim in his scheme instead of the star." Shay was laying it on with a trowel, but she needed Lindsey's cooperation.

She looked at Shay with hopeful eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Look at some pictures."

"That's it?"

"That's it. After this I won't bother you anymore."

Lindsey heaved out a heavy sigh before she sat up. "Let me see."

Shay crouched before shoving aside some magazines and glasses to make a spot for her computer on the table in front of the chair, and opened it. When it was ready, she opened the photo viewer.

"Tell me if any of these men are the man that hired you."

"No," Lindsey said on the first guy. Shay changed the picture to the second. "No." The third picture appeared. "That's him."

"You sure?" Shay asked.

"Positive."

"Look at these last two to be sure."

"No," Lindsey said when the fourth photo appeared on the screen.

"Last one," Shay said as she clicked on the arrow for the next photo.

"No," Lindsey said. "The third guy, that was him, I'm sure of it."

Shay smiled as she straightened. Lindsey had nailed Neil the first time. "Will you testify to that in court?"

Lindsey shook her head. "No. I don't want any more trouble. I just want my life back. I've done what you asked. I looked at your pictures, now just go."

"Will you agree to a deposition, at least?"

Again, Lindsey shook her head. "I don't want any more trouble," she repeated.

Shay pursed her lips in annoyance. Lindsey had confirmed Shay was on the right track, and if Daniel sued, his legal team could compel her to testify, but that was dangerous. She could retract her statement and leave them twisting in the wind. Shay had to find another way, but at least Lindsey confirmed Shay was onto something.

"Fine. You have my card. If you change your mind, call me."

"I won't."

No, you probably won't, Shay thought to herself as she snapped her laptop closed and picked the device up. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Rohmer. I can see myself out."

Shay drove home, thinking over her options. Assuming Lindsey didn't chicken out and change her story, they had enough to nail Neil for coercion. She didn't know what Neil was after, but he was clearly angling for something, and it started with ruining Dan's name. She didn't know the game, and she didn't know if Lindsey was the second move, or was simply an extension of the rumors. If the rumors weren't having the desired effect, maybe Neil was upping the pressure, but it could also be that the rumors had been to set up the playing field for Lindsey's move.

The sexual assault case brought by Lindsey didn't feel right as the end game, not if Neil told her she could keep whatever she won. If he'd wanted her to split the winnings with him, maybe, but not like this. There was more to the story than she knew, but she'd certainly screwed up Neil's plans by knocking Lindsey's story down so quickly. By the time she'd reached home, she'd convinced herself that Lindsey was the second act of a multiact play. She was going to recommend to Dan that she keep digging because she didn't believe this was over, and a payout to Lindsey wasn't the end goal.

After parking her car, she hurried into her house and quickly changed out of her suit into something more comfortable... jeans and a less formal blouse. It was already almost seven forty-five, and she was running out of time to prepare dinner. She dug in her fridge and came up with hamburger and a pork loin. She decided on pork because she was afraid Daniel would have a heart attack over a hamburger.

Ten minutes of flipping through recipes on the internet uncovered many delicious, low calorie, dishes, but the only one she had the ingredients on hand for was Orange-Teriyaki Pork Medallions. She was going to have to do a little substituting for ingredients, packaged orange juice instead of fresh squeezed, for example, but she could make it work.

She was putting two boil-in-the-bag brown rice packages into the water when her doorbell buzzed. She gave the pork one more quick stir, wiped her hands, and hurried to the door, her face breaking into an involuntary smile as she did.

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.

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TWENTY

Shay was standing there in jeans and a pastel green, short-sleeved, blouse as her door opened.

"Come in," she said, stepping back and opening the door wider.

The thing that caught Dan's eye were the leather laces across the wide gap in the shirt, from the middle of her breasts to the neck. The laces crisscrossed back and forth, like on boots, but appeared to be doing nothing to hold the gap closed... which was fine by him.

"Hey," he said as he stepped in. As she closed the door, she offered a kiss, and he placed his hand behind her back to gently pull her lips into a slow caress with his.

She sighed. "I needed that," she said as their lips slowly parted.

"So did I."

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes."

"Something smells wonderful. What is it?" he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Orange and Teriyaki Pork." He tossed his clothes on her bed and then returned to her small kitchen. "You do eat pork, right?" she asked as he appeared.

He smiled at the slightly panicked look on her face as he hung back to stay out of the way. Her kitchen was barely big enough for one to work in, much less two.

"Sometimes. Find anything out?"

"Lindsey positively identified Neil."

"So we've got him?"

"For coercion, maybe. But I think there is more to this yet."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. But you heard Lindsey. He told her she could keep whatever she won. That means it wasn't about the money, not for Neil anyway. So, if he isn't after money, it has to be about something else. Something we don't know."

"Does it matter?"

"I think it does, for a couple of reasons. One, Lindsey isn't willing to testify if you sue him, so that really cripples any chance of that going anywhere. Second, even if you win, you still haven't addressed the rumors. There is nothing connecting him to those, and the Lindsey story is already dead. Reputation wise, you're simply beating a dead horse. So, even if the rumors end up withering and dying, and you sue him over Lindsey, what's to prevent him from coming at you again? Think about it, there is no limit to the number of things he can start rumors on. Drug and alcohol abuse, mental illness, AIDs, theft of intellectual property, you name it. We need to link him to the rumors and shut him down permanently. That way, if he tries this shit again, people will know it's more of the same."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

"I'm all in."

She gave him a playfully annoyed look. "You haven't heard the idea yet."

He grinned. "It doesn't matter. If you think it's the way to go, I'm in."

She smiled. "Brave man. Okay, here's what we're going to do."

Her kitchen was too small for him to be much help, but he did get two glasses and add a splash of wine from the opened bottle in the fridge as she told him her plan. He didn't know if the wine was what she had intended to serve, but she enjoyed a glass of wine with her meal.

"So, you want me to call him now? The other day, you didn't."

"Well, not now. After dinner."

"No, I mean tonight."

"Oh! Yeah. Then I didn't have anything to tie him to anything. Now I do."

He shrugged and grinned. "Okay. You're the boss. At least on this."

"I'll tell you, I'm breaking one of my cardinal rules by doing this," she said as she placed their plates on her tiny table.

Her table was just big enough for two. The chairs were side by side, with half the table's width folded down and tucked against the wall to free up space, and its countertop height allowed it to double as an additional workspace. Her entire place was less than half the size of his apartment, but what he'd originally thought of as small, now seemed intimate and cozy.

He felt a tingle of concern. "What?"

"No working at home."

He sighed as he relaxed. "Oh. Want to wait until tomorrow and do this at my place, or your office?"

"No. I want you to try to meet him tomorrow, so that means calling him tonight. Besides, I've decided your place is also a work-free zone too. For me at least."

He smiled as he cut into the pork. "Good. I can think of things I'd much rather do than work when you're there." He popped the bite of meat into his mouth before toasting her with the fork. "My compliments to the chef."

"Me too," she said as she cut off a morsel, stabbed it with her fork, and then pulled it from the fork with her lips. She wasn't even trying, but he found the simple act of her pulling the food from the fork slightly erotic. She looked slightly surprised as she chewed. "Say, this is pretty good!"

"You didn't know?"

She grinned as she looked down. She was an interesting mix of in-your-face brashness and chaste shyness. "No. First time making it. I tried to find something healthy for you."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

"What do you normally fix?"

She shrugged. "Stuff you probably wouldn't want to eat. Meat and potatoes type things, usually."

He leaned closer like he was about to impart some great secret. "Do you make meatloaf? I love a good meatloaf... with the red ketchupy sauce on the top. Mom used to make it when I was a kid."

She looked at him, her eyes playful. "You eat meatloaf?"

"Hell yeah!" he said as he straightened. "Who doesn't like meatloaf?"

"Next time you come for dinner, I'll make meatloaf. I have a good recipe for one. It has garlic breadcrumbs in it. With mashed potatoes?"

He grinned. "Oh my God, I think I love you!"

He liked the way she smiled at him. "And you'll eat that? What about all that healthy stuff you normally eat?"

"Man cannot live by fish alone," he intoned as if he was holding court, but then became more serious. "I try to watch what I eat. You can't outwork a bad diet, but I love a good old fashioned greasy hamburger as much as the next guy. So long as I don't do it all the time, it's all good. The only thing I avoid completely are pops. There is no redeeming value in those things at all. Even beer and wine have some marginal health benefits, but pop?" He spluttered.

"Meatloaf it is," she said, looking slightly sad.

"What?"

"Dad and I used to have lunch together every Sunday. He'd cook one week, and I'd cook the next. He liked my meatloaf." She looked at him. "I think he would've liked you."

He smiled at her. "I didn't know him, but if he raised you, I'm sure I would have liked him too."

She smiled, her eyes sad, before he leaned to the side and gave her a quick kiss. They talked about other, more pleasant things for the rest of dinner, and swapped stories from their childhood. He had her in stitches telling her about the time he and some of his high school buddies thought it'd be funny to make crop circles in a corn field... right up until the time they stomped on a yellow jacket nest. They'd run around in the dark, screaming and yelling as the pissed off wasps stung the shit out of them, until they'd become lost and separated in their mad flight from the wasps. Unable to see anything but stars in the head high corn, they'd first called to each other until they linked up, and then they'd agreed on a direction to the road. They'd been wrong and had walked deeper into the field, and away from the road for a long time before realizing they had to be walking in the wrong direction. When they'd finally figured that out and reached the road, they still didn't know where they'd parked, and typical of their luck that evening, they'd guessed wrong a second time and walked in the wrong direction again. It was almost dawn before they'd finally found their trucks and made their way home, sweaty, tired, thirsty, and covered in wasp stings. That was the end of their crop circle forays, and it had been a miserable few hours afterwards.

"How many times did you get stung?" she asked when her laughter subsided enough for her to talk.

"I don't remember exactly, but a lot. Five, six times maybe. One stung me right on the nose, and damn did that hurt! Another stung me on the knuckle of my pinky, and that nearly ruined me. It took years for that to stop hurting completely."

"Years?" she asked, her skepticism clearly on display.

"Yeah. For a long time afterwards, if I made a fist, that joint would hurt. The pain wasn't intolerable, but I could feel it. It was like I had arthritis or something in it, but I suspect it was that damned wasp sting." He grinned. "It could have been worse. Rick, one of the guys with me, took one on the nut sack." He began chuckling in memory. "It flew up his shorts and nailed him good. I don't know what hurt him worse, the wasp stinging him... or the fact he punched himself there to try to get it to stop stinging. By the time we got back to the trucks, he wasn't walking so good, and his nuts were the size of his fist." Dan paused as he chuckled once. "I should probably mention that Rick was six-two or six-three and had hands the size of a bear's paw."

That started her on another round of giggles. "Did you go to the doctor?"

"For a wasp sting?" he spluttered in teasing indignation. "If I had, I'd have never heard the end of it."

He shook his head in teasing disbelief as he rose from the table and took his plate to the sink. City-slickers, like Shay, had no idea what life was like outside the big city. There, bug bites, stings, scrapes, cuts, bumps, and bruises were just part of life. Unless someone was going into anaphylactic shock, going to the doctor for a sting would have branded them as a crybaby for the rest of their life. They'd never be able to live it down.

After they had the kitchen tidied, he picked up his phone. "Where do you want to do this?" he asked as he waggled his phone.

"At the table."

He returned to his seat, and as Shay settled into the chair beside him, he dialed Neil's number. He put the call on speaker and placed the phone on the table so Shay could listen and coach him. He was out of his element on this and welcomed her help and guidance.

Hello?

"Neil? Daniel Beckette," he said, his voice hard.

Hey, Dan! I haven't heard from you in a while. How are you?

Daniel clinched his jaws in annoyance. Neil sounded perfectly normal even though he was trying to knife Dan in the back. "Not so good. I need to talk to you."

Sure man. What can I do for you?

"Why are you trying to fuck me?"

There was a pause. What are you talking about?

"Don't play stupid with me, Neil. Lindsey Rohmer? You hired her."

Don't put that on me, man. I just run the---

"Cut the shit. I know it was---"

You don't know shit, Dan!

"Bullshit! You hired her, and you know it! I showed her a picture of you, and she said you were the one that gave her the five grand!"

There was another long pause. She's mistaken. She probably said that just because you showed her the photo.

Shay waved her hands frantically for his attention. I showed her five pictures she mouthed as she held up five fingers.

"She picked you out of five different men. It was you. You know it, and I know it. What I want to know is... why."

I'm telling you, I didn't do it.

Dan glanced at Shay again for guidance. "Tell him you want to work something out, otherwise you're taking what you have to the cops," she whispered in his ear.

He repeated what she said to the phone, knowing the plan from there. "Meet me for lunch tomorrow, or you can take it up with my lawyers."

Why should I do that?

"Because if you don't, not only am I going to the cops, I'm also going to sue your ass off, that's why."

There was another pause. Where?

Shay had coached him where she wanted them to meet. Neil wasn't stupid, and they were stacking the deck in their favor as much as possible by meeting out in the open, that way, if it came to it, Dan's lawyers could argue that Neil had no expectation of privacy to get around the hidden camera problem.

"Mr. Greenbeans on Hulcup. Three o'clock. They won't be busy and we can sit outside where we'll have some privacy," Dan said, trying to lure Neil in.

This is a complete---

"So that's a no? Fine. You can talk to the cops."

Wait! Neil called, thinking Dan was going to hang up on him. Fine. For old times' sake and because we're friends, but I'm telling you, you're wrong about this.

"I'm not wrong, and you know it. If you don't show, my next stop is the cops," Dan sneered before disconnecting the call. He looked at Shay. "Well? How'd I do?"

"You did great. He's scared. You can hear it in his voice." She looked at him. "You okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said as he rose from the table.

"Something's wrong," she said to his back.

He turned to face her, and she stepped in close. His arms closed around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He held her but said nothing.

"Tell me what's bothering you," she whispered into his chest.

"Neil," he finally said. "I don't understand why he would do something like this to me."

"You think I'm wrong?"

"No, but I still don't understand why. What did I do to him?"

"Maybe nothing."

"Then why is he doing this?"

She pulled out of his arms and looked up at him. "Maybe he doesn't need a reason. This is LA, Dan. People will piss on your head and tell you it's raining if they think it will get them ahead or get them what they want."

"I don't understand people like that."

"I don't either, but LA is like that. Maybe all big cities are."

"That's just sad."

She nodded, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it is... and that's why I'm still in business. People are constantly fucking each other, either literally or metaphorically." She touched his face before he took her hand and kissed her fingers. "Don't let it get to you. He's an asshole, we're going to shut him down, and we'll show these rumors for what they are, a smear campaign."

He nodded. She was right, and he knew it, but he still couldn't understand why Neil would do this. They'd been friends... or had been once.

"Yeah, okay." He forced a smile. "He doesn't know who he's messing with." His smile became genuine. "Especially when I have ace private eye Shay Caddel in my corner."

She nodded. "That's right. He done did messed with the wrong person."

He chuckled at her mangled syntax. "Yeah. He done did messed up."

They settled onto her two-person couch and watched Two Weeks Notice as she snuggled in close with his arm draped over her. She could curl up and fit in the most amazingly small spaces, like one of those if I fits, I sits memes that showed cats squeezed into various impossibly tiny containers.

Like most guys, he was more into skimpily clad women, gun fights, explosions, and fast cars, but he had to admit, the movie was pretty good, and he laughed out loud several times. Besides, Shay enjoyed it, and that made it worth watching for that reason alone.

As the end credits began to roll, she sat up and unfolded, her eyes heavy and her smile dreamy. They shared a slow kiss before she rose and swayed her way to the bedroom.

He had to wait his turn to brush his teeth as she bent at the sink, but he didn't mind, and passed the couple of minutes admiring her ass as it wiggled slightly with her brushing. While there was room for only one at the sink, she had an amazing shower, a pie shaped affair unlike any he'd seen. As he stood to the side and shaved, he idly wondered what it'd be like to take her there. His lips twitched. He was going to have to cancel his workout with Greg tomorrow, so he could meet with Neil. Maybe he'd find out in the morning.

He flipped off the light after brushing his teeth. She was already in bed with all the lights out. It was never truly dark in LA, not like at home on the farm, so after only a moment, his eyes had adjusted enough that he could find the bed without worrying about kicking a piece of furniture.

He slid into her bed, and she was right there. Where his bed was a king, hers was a queen, and it was kind of nice not having to chase her all over the bed. He pulled her to him and found her lips.

She kissed him back, but not with the abandonment she normally did. He said nothing as he began to kiss her jaw to under her ear, and then down her neck to her throat.

"Stop," she whispered while gently pushing him away.

"Why?" he asked, feathering kisses over her lips.

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"I can't tonight."

He slowly pulled his lips from her flesh to hold her gaze. The bedroom was dim, but not so dim he couldn't see the apprehension in her face. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

"I'm sore. You---"

A chill surrounded his heart. "Have I hurt you? If I did, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

She smiled and touched his face. "No, you haven't hurt me. It's just that I've been... taken I guess you could say... more in the past three days than the past year or so combined. I just need a day to recover. Are you mad?"

"Mad?" he asked, surprised she even asked. "No, not mad. Concerned that I've hurt you. Why didn't you say something if I was hurting you?"

"Because you haven't hurt me." She smiled then her face softened. "I've loved every second of everything you've done to me, and me to you. I just need a day, that's all." She smiled again. "You've been giving me quite a workout, and I'm a little out of shape, but I'm sure you can whip me into shape in no time."

"Is that all it is?"

She smiled again. "That's all it is. You kissing me like that was making me want you, but I need the break. You're sure you're not mad?"

He kissed her lips softly, gently. "No, I'm not mad. In the future, I'll be more caref---"

"No!" she said sharply, cutting him off. "Don't change a thing. That first night, the second time, when you fucked the absolute shit out of me? I fucking loved it! I know you can be gentle, but sometimes I just want to fuck. If I thought telling you was going to change the way you are with me, I wouldn't have said anything. Promise me, if I want you to fuck me like that again, you will. Can you promise me that?"

He smiled as he brushed her lips with his. "I promise. I don't want to hurt you, that's all."

"I'm not going to break, Dan. Now, I'll make you a promise. If you start to hurt me, I'll tell you, otherwise, I'm fine, okay?"

He kissed her again, a little more forcefully this time. "Okay, deal."

"And you're not mad?"

He shook his head. "Not mad."

"Disappointed?"

"Of course," he said, but his tone was teasing. "I'll live. Making love to you is the best part of my day, but holding you as I go to sleep is the second-best."

This time she kissed him, liking that he'd said 'making love' instead of fucking. "I feel the same way. Want me to give you a blow---"

"No. I'd rather just hold you."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." He kissed her again, a long, slow meeting of their lips before he flopped to his back and pulled her tight to his side so she could lie against him. She snuggled in, his arm around her back, her leg propped on one of his as she rested her head on his chest and shoulder. This had become their go-to snuggle position for sleeping. "I don't need to fuck you, Shay. What I want is to make love to you, if that makes sense. You don't have to do for me because you think I need it."

She nodded slowly. "I understand."

He kissed her on the head. "Good. I didn't come here tonight because I thought I was going to get laid. I came because I wanted to spend time with you."

He felt her smile. "So, you don't care if we don't make love?"

He knew she was teasing. "Well, let's not get crazy."

"Thank you," she said after a long moment of quiet.

His brow wrinkled in confusion. "For what?"

"For understanding."

He had to think a moment before he knew how to answer that. "You're welcome, but I hope you understand that I enjoy your company as much as I enjoy what you do to me. Maybe more."

She nodded slowly. "Same here."

"So, does that mean you don't care if we don't make love?" he asked, parroting her words back to her.

She snickered, then rose and stretched for a kiss. "Well, let's not get crazy," she whispered as their lips slowly parted.

.

.

.

TWENTY-ONE

Shay slowly became aware of the body sharing her bed as she reached for consciousness. She was in Dan's arms, the sun was shining, and the birds were singing... before she realized the damned birds was her phone waking her up. With a near silent groan, she reached across him, grabbed her phone, and shut the birds up before falling back into the snuggle with a contented sigh. She could quickly, and easily, get used to waking up like this. The only thing that could be better is if she'd woken up on her own, without the birds.

"I hate those fucking birds," he rumbled without moving.

She breathed out a quiet laugh and kissed his chest. "Yeah, me too."

He stretched with a groan of his own before giving her a proper good morning kiss. "You have any eggs?" he asked.

"A few, why?"

"I'll make breakfast."

She groaned a second time as she sat up. "I can do that."

"Nope. You cooked last night, I'll make breakfast. You can get your shower, and then I'll get mine."

Neither of them moved for a moment before she stretched for another kiss. He took her lips in a slow caress. As their kiss deepened, she couldn't resist the temptation to give his hardness a couple of slow strokes, but he didn't make any move to go further, so after a long moment of slow, sleepy kissing, she pulled herself from his embrace and rolled to the floor before she gave in to the temptation to spend the day in bed.

As she washed, she fretted over him not taking her up on her gentle nudge this morning. She was still a little sore, but was much improved from the previous night. The thirty-six-hour break had done wonders for her womanhood. Last night he'd said he wasn't mad, but she was still apprehensive, especially after this morning. She supposed he could be waiting for her to make the first move, but she had, and he hadn't followed up.

She slapped the water off in annoyance. Why should I care if he was upset? I never cared before, she wondered as she began to dry, but she did care. She cared what he thought, and she didn't want to fuck this up. He was a good man. He was thoughtful and kind, he made her feel special and wanted in all the best ways, and yes, if she was honest with herself, she liked the fact that he'd fucked her like no man had ever fucked her before.

"Breakfast!" he called, holding each side of the bathroom door frame with his hands behind him as he leaned in between them.

She smiled as she briskly scrubbed her hair with the towel. He was wearing only a pair of jeans, and goddamn did he look fuckable. "Be right there."

He nodded and turned away. She considered dressing, but threw on a robe instead, so her eggs wouldn't get cold, and walked to the kitchen. On the table were two plates of scrambled eggs with two triangles of toast each, coffee, and a glass of orange juice.

"The only ham I could find was lunch meat," he said as they sat.

She could see bits of the thin sliced meat mixed in the eggs, along with what appeared to be cheese. "These look wonderful," she said before forking in a bite of eggs in and chewing. "These are great!"

"Glad you like them," he said as he took a bite.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked as they ate.

"Sure."

"Why do you shave?" she asked as she waved her hand over her own chest.

"Is it a problem?"

She grinned. "No, I actually like it, but I was wondering."

He nodded and smiled faintly. "Kind of a tradition in the gymnastic circles. Think about it, how often do you see a hairy male gymnast? Having hair sticking out everywhere as you do your routine... not attractive. Judges will probably deny it, but part of your score is how you look. They want to see the cut of the muscles, and if it's obscured by hair, that might cost you a tenth or two. At that level of competition, you can't afford to give anything away." He shrugged. "Now I do it because it's like shaving my face. It's part of who I am. When I feel the stubble scraping on my clothes, I know it's time to do it again."

"How often?"

"How often do I shave my body?" One corner of his lips quirked up in a half smile as she nodded. "Couple times a month. I don't actually shave, I use hair remover. It only takes me a few minutes to do since I've been doing it so long. Smear it on, wait a few minutes, step in the shower, and it's done. I did it last night before I came over because I needed to shower anyway... and so I'd be baby smooth for you," he finished with a teasing grin.

"You're sure you're not upset about last night?" she asked again. She couldn't understand why she couldn't let it go, and she heard the unintentional, if slight, apprehension in her voice.

He frowned slightly. "Why would I be upset? I told you I wasn't. Didn't you believe me?"

"I did, but this morning..."

"What about it?"

"You didn't seem to want to."

He smiled. "Wanted to be sure. Want to go now?" His smile slowly faded. "Seriously, are you over being sore?"

"Mostly. Still a bit tender inside."

He leaned closer, gently took her head, and pulled her lips to his. "Then take the rest of the day," he whispered before kissing her softly and then leaving a trail of slow kisses to her ear. "Then tonight, I'll wear your ass out," he breathed.

She felt a thrill of anticipation as he bit her delicately on the ear lobe. "Promise?"

"Cross your heart," he said as he drew a finger slowly down between her breasts and then cupped one, causing another shiver of expectation to course through her.

He kissed her again, and she decided they were going to have to do something to take the edge off. A little licking and kissing would really hit the spot.

She stood. If they were going to do this, she wanted to get on with it. "Hop in the shower while I clean up."

She'd do him in the shower and then he could do her on the bed. She quickly rinsed their plates and glasses before placing them in the dishwasher. Task finished, she hurried to the bathroom, her steps unconsciously rapid as her body demanded satisfaction. As she entered, he was rinsing the soap from his body, his head tipped back with his eyes closed as his hands glided over his flesh. She wanted a piece of that. She let her robe fall, suddenly thankful that she'd chosen clear glass for the enclosure instead of frosted when she remodeled. Her robe had barely hit the floor before she'd opened the cabinet and removed three additional towels. Tossing one onto the toilet atop his, she opened the shower door and stepped into the enclosure. Hearing the door, he looked at her in surprise.

As she stepped in, she dropped the remaining two folded towels. "Kneepads," she purred as she stepped in close.

He smiled down at her before pulling her into an absolutely torrid kiss. If he was upset, he was hiding it well. Forcing her way out of his kiss, she started kissing her way down his body as her hand surrounded his shaft.

"I have a better idea," he rumbled as he pulled her upright and began kissing down her body.

She tried to kneel again, but he held her upright by pressing her back against the wall. When he reached her stomach, he quickly rose and turned her so that her back was to his chest. He pulled her tight against him, his hands caressing her breasts as he nuzzled her neck before he lowered himself to the bottom of the shower, squirming and slithering between her legs as he pulled her down with him, turning her as he did. He lay on his back, his head in the corner, his knees pulled up tight with his feet on the floor and his toes against the glass. It was going to be snug, but she thought they could make it work. She tried to turn around and lower herself over him, so they could please each other, but he was having none of it.

"Like this," he whispered, positioning the towels under her knees as he continued to draw her down, preventing her from reversing her direction, until she was sitting on his face, facing the corner of the pie. As she wriggled to find the most comfortable position, he kissed her, his lips and tongue flashing and caressing.

The showerhead was large, mounted in the center of the enclosure, and the water fell like warm summer rain as his big, strong hands slid up her body to hold her breasts. Teasing the points to aching erectness, his tongue and lips caused a fire that water couldn't quench to roar inside her.

"Fuck," she sighed as she leaned forward into his arms, resting her head against the shower wall as the water flowed over them.

This was a new, and very dominant position for her. She'd never sat on a man's face like this before, and the novelty of it was revving her up. She quickly found she could easily adjust the intensity of his kissing by raising or lowering herself slightly, and by changing the angle of her hips. She wanted to sit up, wanted to reach behind her and stroke his cock until he came as he ate her alive, but what she did was grab his hair and pull his mouth harder into her womanhood as he devoured her.

"Shit! Fuck!" she snarled softly, her words almost lost in the rush of water.

In her imagination she could see them in the shower, his cock standing proud and erect as she sat on his face, her hands in his hair as she face-fucked him, his hands gripping her breasts, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling as he controlled her. The water was pouring over them, his body gleaming as she hunched over, consumed by the pleasure he was giving her. In her mind's eye, she could see it all, as if she was another person watching them, and it was erotic as fuck.

"Fuck... fuck... fuck... fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck... fuck!" she growled, her hips lunging on the last word as a nova of pleasure went off inside her, her body quivering as she fought for control.

She couldn't stand it anymore, throwing herself back with a soft cry, desperate to be free of the exquisite torture he was inflicting on her. She writhed on his chest, her hips rocking as if she were fucking a cock, her eyes closed, her hands pressed hard against the wall as she battled against her pleasure. Finally, after a minute, an hour, a century, her orgasm released her. With a panting groan, she slid down his body as she collapsed over him, her breasts mashing into his chest as she used all her remaining strength to prevent herself from oozing into a puddle and being washed away down the drain.

"Fuck," she muttered with a shudder as another wave of tingles passed through her.

She was finally able to take stock of herself. She was laying on Dan's chest as his hands held her face. As her gaze focused on his eyes, he smiled as he slowly pulled her lips to his.

"Now do you believe me when I tell you I'm not mad at you?" he whispered as their lips slowly parted.

Still strung out from one of the hardest orgasms of her life, she couldn't stop her giggle as she allowed him to pull her lips to his for another long, warm, wet kiss.

-oOo-

They drove to Mr. Greenbeans in Dan's car because it was sitting behind Shay's. After she'd recovered from the orgasm induced brain damage in the shower, she'd tried to return the favor, but he'd brushed it aside. At first she was concerned, but his tender kisses had finally convinced her that he simply wanted to please her and had expected nothing in return. She couldn't wrap her head around him. She'd given more than one blow job simply because the man she was with at the time wanted one, but no man she'd ever been with had cared about her pleasure at the expense of his own.

"You know what you're going to say?" she prompted, breaking the companionable silence and pulling her thought away from Dan to focus on the business at hand.

"More or less."

"You need to make him mad if you can. People say things when they're mad without thinking."

"I know, coach," he said with a grin.

She matched his smile with one of her own. After Dan's shower, she'd spent the morning coaching him. She'd played Neil and let him try to bait her. It'd help if she knew which of Neil's buttons to push, but she didn't, and Dan claimed not to know either, so he was going to have to play it by ear. She desperately wanted to be there with him, but they both knew Neil would clam up tight if he thought anyone was listening in.

He pulled to a stop in the parking lot and they got out of the car. They were early, and she was going to go inside first and wait, pretending to be a customer.

"Good luck, and for God's sake, don't forget to turn on the camera," she whispered and then gave him a quick kiss before turning and quickly walking away.

She selected a table where she could see the door and ordered the grilled chicken on pita with water. She wasn't hungry, but she wanted to have food in front of her in case Neil came in, and she could always take it home with her.

Having to sit inside and not knowing what was going on with Dan and Neil, was killing her. Because she couldn't be at the meeting, being at the restaurant made no difference whatsoever, but sitting at home would have been worse. She didn't expect the meeting to take long, and by three-thirty, she was tempted to walk out just to see if Neil had arrived. If he hadn't shown up by now, he probably wasn't going to.

She ordered a to go box, placed the untouched sandwich inside, and paid her tab, drawing out the process as much as possible. She was waiting for the waitress to return with her credit card when Dan stepped in and glanced around. When he spotted her, he smiled and pumped his fist in front of his chest in low key victory as he approached. He slid into the booth across from her.

"Got him?" she asked

"Got him."

Now her card couldn't come back fast enough. When the waitress returned with her card, she instantly signed the receipt before sliding out of the booth. They quickly walked to Dan's car, and as they returned to her house, Dan told her about the meeting. People's memories were notoriously unreliable, but assuming he remembered it correctly and hadn't misunderstood something Neil said, it sounded like they had Neil dead to rights. She was all but tingling with excitement and was dying to see what the tiny camera she'd hidden in his shirt had captured. That was the proof if Neil tried to lie about what he'd said.

He pulled to a stop in her drive, and she was out of the car almost before the engine stopped. They hurried into her house, and as he removed the camera from his shirt, she booted her computer. She was breaking her no work at home rule again, but she had to know what the camera captured. She plugged the memory card from the camera into her computer and pulled the video off. As the file transferred to her computer, she silently fretted. If the camera had screwed up in some way, they'd never get another shot.

Dan sat down beside her as she started the video. For almost five minutes there was nothing but ambient sounds and the passing of cars in the street. The camera spun crazily.

You wanted to see me? Neil said.

Sit down, Dan ordered.

The camera whirled again as Neil sat down across the table from Dan. He was perfectly framed, and they could clearly see every expression.

What do you want? Neil asked.

What I want to know is why? I thought we were friends.

I don't know what you're talking about, Neil said as he leaned back.

Don't bullshit me. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Lindsey is going to testify that you hired her to set me up. I've got a lot more video of her than what you saw on the television. I'm going to burn your ass, unless you tell me why.

Neil glared at Dan. You've got shit. The word of a woman that's an admitted liar. I'm sure that'll carry a lot of weight in court.

Dan tossed the five photos on the table. Neil didn't even reach for them. She picked you out. I'd say that's good enough. I also know you're the one who has been spreading the rumors, Dan said.

Bullshit! I've done no such thing!

It's true, and you know it. I tracked the accounts back to your IP address. 134.201.120.105. That's your IP address isn't it? You don't have to answer. I know it is.

Shay glanced at Dan and grinned. He'd knew the IP address because she'd looked it up and told him what it was. They had nothing incriminating, just the IP address of his servers, information that was available to anyone who wanted to look it up, but sometimes the best way to get information is to pretend you already had it.

You don't know shit! I didn't... Neil paused, his face twisting in anger.

You didn't what? Didn't create all the accounts from your servers? Didn't send all your lies from there? Maybe not, but some you did, didn't you, and your servers IP address was logged as the computer that created the accounts. Who, besides you, Neil, could do that from your severs? My guess is nobody.

Neil sneered. Phone on the table, he said as he tapped the top of the table with his finger.

What?

Phone on the table. You want to talk, then let's talk. I don't want you recording any of this.

The camera bobbed and jiggled a moment before they saw Daniel's hand place his phone on the table. Neil took it, powered it off, and then sneered as he put it back on the tabletop. You think you're so fucking smart, don't you?

Just tell me why. What do you want?

You cheated me! Neil hissed. You stole my company from me!

What are you talking about?

DanielBecketteFitness. com was my idea! Mine! Neil snarled as he slapped his chest. I built the site. The workout videos, the Health Minute segments, the recipes, all my ideas!

Yeah, so?

Yeah, so? So you stole my fucking ideas! My work!

Stole? I bought you out, or did you forget that? Dan asked, his voice harsh. Shay glanced at him because to her it sounded like Dan was having trouble controlling his anger, and if he was, he could say something he shouldn't and tip Neil to the sting.

You ripped me off! You didn't pay me anywhere close to what that site is worth!

What the fuck are you talking about? We agreed on a price, and you weren't complaining at the time, so you've got no cause to bitch about it now.

Fuck you, Dan. You cheated me, so now I'm going to ruin you. When your name isn't worth shit, I'll take the site back, make a big splash about how you're out, and build it up again. People have short memories. In time they'll forget, just like with that bicycle guy that got caught doping. All they'll remember is they've heard your name somewhere.

You're crazy as shit, Neil. Why would I give you my domain?

How are you going to pay your bills, huh? How are you going to keep your fancy apartment and expensive car? When the site stops generating income, how are you going to pay to keep the content up to date? You going to do that yourself? You're not nearly as smart as you think you are, and you don't know shit about it, but I do. I can run the site myself until it starts making money again.

There was a long moment of silence. So what do you want? I thought we were friends, Dan said softly.

He glanced at her as Neil began ranting on the video. "I was trying to piss him off by pretending I hadn't heard what he said he wanted."

She nodded but kept her focus on the video. "Sounds like it worked."

We were never friends, you arrogant prick. You were always the Olympic Hero, with your expensive car, big fancy apartment, endorsement deals, television roles, and women throwing themselves at your feet. You were using me. I was doing all the work while you were taking all the credit. I was okay with that, but then you fucked me. DanielBecketteFitness. com is the number two fitness site on the net, and will probably be number one in a few years, and everyone thinks you did it all on your own. But you didn't, did you? It was me! I did all the hard work, and you cheated me! What do I want? I want to see you burn in hell, you motherfucker, but I'll settle for taking away everything my hard work has given you. I want you to see what it's like to lose everything. Then I'm going to buy you out, and then I'll have the expensive cars and the big fancy apartment. I'm the one that deserves them, not you! That's what I want. Neil sat back, breathing hard.

I'm sorry, Dan said softly.

Take your sorry and shove it up your ass. You don't know what sorry is until I'm finished dragging you through the same hell you've put me through. You're not nearly as smart as you think you are. Neil smiled, but it was a cold nasty smile. All those women you were fucking? It's coming back to bite you in the ass now, isn't it? Everyone knew you were a lady's man, a manwhore, and now, that reputation is what I'm using to fuck you. I love the irony, don't you? You can't prove shit with Lindsey. He waved his hand over the pictures. You've got some photos. So the fuck what? It's her word against mine. I'll say I was talking about some fictional character, but the stupid bitch thought I meant you in real life. How are you going to prove I wasn't talking about a television pilot I was thinking about pitching where that was the plot? In case you haven't noticed, she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer. So take your best shot. Neil stood abruptly and gave Dan the finger before stomping away.

Dan sat for a moment. Nice seeing you too, Neil, you fuck, he muttered before standing and turning toward the inside portion of the restaurant. Just before the door opened, the video ended.

Shay glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. It was too late to do anything with the video now. "He's fucked," she muttered. "We'll take this to the magistrate tomorrow and get an injunction to compel him to stop posting the rumors and issue a retraction. We've also got plenty for an arrest for coercion and extortion. Neil straight up admitted he was the one fucking you over, and if he denies it, we've got the proof. Just like I said with Gail, you're talking out in the open at a table where people are walking by. Legally he has no expectation of privacy. Also, like Gail, he can't hide behind the two-party clause for perjury if he tries to deny admitting to it." She looked at him and smiled. "You did it."

"I didn't do it. You did."

He grabbed her behind the head, pulled her to him, and kissed her thoroughly before they slowly separated. "You remember that promise you made me this morning?" she asked.

He smiled. "Yeah."

"I think it's time to pay up."

He touched her forehead with his own, his hand still at the back of her head. "You're sure you're up for it?"

"No pain, no gain, baby," she muttered. "I'm good," she clarified to make sure he understood.

He snickered. "You're not good... you're fantastic."

"You think so?" she teased. "Just wait until I get you in my bed."