One Rule: MMF Bi Menage Romance Read online

  One Rule

  MMF Bi Menage Romance

  Ava Moreau

  Copyright © 2018 by Ava Moreau

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  My Two CEOs: A Bonus MMF Story!

  1

  I’m sorry, Sarah, but you know I’m too busy to fly home right now.” What Becca didn’t say was: Honestly, I’m too busy for this phone call as well.

  It was hard to concentrate on driving and talking at the same time, even with the hands-free headset on. Becca's knuckles were white as she gripped the wheel, coping with the impossible traffic on the highway during the morning rush. Her attaché had slid off the passenger seat onto the floor, scattering papers that she couldn't afford to have become disorganized. She glanced down at the car's clock. She could almost make it. If she paid attention to the road instead of Sarah.

  “Jesus, Becca, too busy to talk to your own sister?” Sarah sighed dramatically. Becca could picture her, the same as when they were kids, staring down at Becca with her hands on her hips. “You haven’t come down once since Mom and Dad moved into the condo. You didn’t even come down to see them off on their big retirement cruise. But I need you to get down here. They can’t sell the house if it’s still full of your stuff, and just because you’re Super Important Businesslady—”

  “Are we seriously going to fight about this now? Sarah, you knew when I took this job I’d have less time to come down and help with things. I seem to remember you being really happy for me when I got this job.”

  There had to be some way to get her off the phone. Some way that wouldn’t create more bad blood. Her sister never listened to reason. Becca glanced back down at the scattered papers, with the finely-tuned details of her presentation. She couldn’t believe it when she got the call this morning, that Jordan & Huntley wanted a second meeting. Could this be it? Could this be the sale that would put her on the map?

  All she had to do was get to the company without her sister getting her into an accident.

  “This has nothing to do with being happy for you,” Sarah said. “It has to do with you being irresponsible. I spent a month cleaning out Mom and Dad’s furniture and clothes, all the decorations, and you didn’t help at all.”

  Maybe if I just explain it to her one more time. Maybe if I lay the facts out, she’ll understand.

  “I know it was a lot of work, but remember, I offered to pay for movers,” she said. “Twice. What’s going on today is a big deal to me, Sarah. Kaylee and I spent a month working on our presentation for Jordan & Huntley—”

  “Who are they, your boyfriends?”

  No, because I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life. Not right now. Not part of the five-year plan.

  “Jordan & Huntley. The corporation? Okay, maybe you haven’t heard of them, but they’re a really big deal here in Corinth, and Kaylee and I are this close to landing their business. It’s going to mean a lot of work, a lot more late nights, but Sarah, this is so huge, it’s the future. It’s everything I’ve been hoping for, to land a big client to really establish myself here. I know clearing out the house is important. I promise you, I know, but I just can’t help right now.”

  It sounded so rational. Becca was pleased with herself. She hadn’t gotten mad, her voice hadn’t risen.

  And she’d managed not to tell Sarah the whole story. How do you explain to someone—even your sister—that going back to your tiny hometown is the lowest item on your to-do list? She’d tried her whole life to escape Myers Lake, worried she’d never get away, and now she was in no rush to go back, especially to pack up old memorabilia from her childhood.

  I have new hopes now, new dreams…can’t you understand that, Sarah?

  She was almost to the Jordan & Huntley parking deck. “Just shove it all in storage for now,” she said to her sister, before Sarah had a chance to respond. “You can send me the bill for the storage unit.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Sarah said. “You expect me to pack all your things, and truck them over to some warehouse? You’re telling me that you’re not willing to give up one single weekend to help? Hell, not even the whole weekend, you could be done and back to Corinth by Saturday night, if you wanted. It’s not asking that much, Becca!”

  Becca had always wished for one of those sisterly relationships that she saw on TV. The kind where you could talk to somebody about anything, tell them whatever was on your mind, without it breaking out into a fight.

  That’s not what she and Sarah had.

  Sarah could never understand why Becca had fled from their hometown. Instead of trying to understand, she assumed Becca thought she was too good for Myers Lake, too self-important. Like she would never be happy unless she were rich, famous and popular.

  I’m not trying to be rich, famous or popular, Becca thought. Well, maybe rich. Eventually.

  Unlike her, Sarah had always been perfectly happy to stay at home, only leaving town for occasional vacations at the beach, or a weekend cruise, but always returning, always talking to the same people in town about the same topics she’d been talking about her entire life.

  Just thinking about it made Becca feel so claustrophobic that she rolled the window down in the car to catch her breath. The wind blew in, stirring the papers around.

  How can I tell you that I can’t breathe without freedom? That, unless I’m out in the world, using my head, taking risks and making my own way, that I feel like I’m suffocating?

  But this wasn’t a battle she was going to win, not with Sarah. All their lives, no matter what the fight was about, her sister had always won. It always came down to the same thing: Becca didn’t like messy emotions, didn’t like to make a scene, and would do anything to avoid it. So Sarah used that against her, time and again.

  She understood that Sarah was going to keep calling and calling until Becca finally broke down and agreed to come home for a little while, pack the damn boxes, and schlep the remainder of her childhood out of town.

  “I’ll think about it, okay? That’s all I can promise for now.”

  Sarah’s tone changed the minute she got her way. Her voice immediately brightened once she knew that she’d won. All the tension and anger were gone. “I’m glad common sense got through to you,” she said. “Hey, maybe you could stay the night, and we could go out to our old haunts.”

  Becca shuddered at the thought. “Talk to you soon, sis.”

  “Girl, where have you been?” asked Kaylee.

  Becca had skidded to a halt in the slot next to Kaylee’s car.

  “God, I’m so sorry, I was halfway across town when the call came, and then my sister was nagging me--” She glanced in the mirror
to check how she looked. Thankfully having the window down hadn’t gotten her hair worked up; it was still tightly pulled back, away from her face. Should she touch up her lipstick? It was too dim in the parking lot to really know.

  “You look fine, Miss Vain,” said Kaylee.

  Becca studied herself. Was that true? Did she look fine? More to the point, did she look like a strong, competent businesswoman? She pulled on her navy suit jacket. There, that helped. The more formal the better. “Can you help me with the papers? They got everywhere.”

  On their way up in the elevator, Kaylee turned to her. “Nervous?”

  “Terrified. Our big moment.”

  “Do you think they’ll sign?”

  “They’d better,” said Becca. Thoughts of her conversation with Sarah kept intruding in her head. Why did her sister have to pick today to put her foot down? She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, as though she could dislodge Sarah from inside there.

  “You all right?” asked Kaylee.

  “Family drama.”

  "Again?"

  "Yet again. I’m starting to wish my folks had fallen for one of those reverse mortgage scams, so we wouldn't have to worry about what to do about their house."

  "Oh, don't say that," said Kaylee. "I think you ought to keep the house. Use it as a little getaway pad."

  "The only getaway in Myers Lake is wondering how quickly you can get away from it,” Becca said. "I was halfway thinking of telling Sarah to throw my stuff in a fire rather than making me come back down there."

  Kaylee wrinkled her nose. "You're so weird about your sister."

  "It's my sister who's the weird one. You've never met anyone so bossy and needy at the same time."

  "Oh, I might know one person," Kaylee said, giving her the side-eye.

  The men around the conference table smiled indulgently when Becca and Kaylee entered the room. A little too indulgently. In fact, there is something in the atmosphere that bothered Becca, that set off her suspicions as she and Kaylee set their cases by their chairs. Mr. Jordan, at the head of the table, glanced pointedly at his watch. “So glad you gals could grace us with your presence.”

  Becca wasn't going to let Kaylee take any of the blame for their lateness. "I'm afraid I've kept you gentlemen waiting, but I can assure you I was eager to get here. Mr. Jordan, when your assistant called and said you had a decision on our offer—”

  Mr. Jordan raised his hand slightly from the table, a silencing gesture that suddenly reminded her of when her father would get one of his headaches while she was talking.

  "We only thought it was fair to talk to you face-to-face," said Mr. Jordan. "We felt we owed you that much, after all the work you girls did in putting together your little presentation."

  Becca gave Kaylee a split second glance of worry. Her throat was suddenly very dry. She had to fight the impulse to interrupt Mr. Jordan before he could say another word, as though as long as he didn’t finish speaking, he couldn’t turn them down.

  If I could just make him see things logically—

  “If there were any details you wanted more information on,” she said in a rush, unable to stop herself, “or any questions you had, or if the price needs more discussion—”

  Mr. Jordan shook his head. “Dear, it’s not a matter of price. I just don’t know that two young girls such as yourselves are cut out for a project this size.”

  She swallowed. Her mouth felt full of sawdust. She wished Kaylee would say something, but her friend was standing there frozen and silent. “With all due respect, sir,” Becca said, “both Kaylee and I have researched Jordan & Huntley’s needs for compliance thoroughly, and you won’t find two people more motivated to create a system that’s really useful for the company.”

  It was like she was spinning her wheels. She wanted to pull all the papers back out of her case, lay them out on the table, show them the charts, the cost estimates, the timelines she had so carefully put together. But that would be too much like begging. She couldn’t do that. She’d never beg for anything.

  Mr. Jordan's lips tightened. He was not a man who was used to being disagreed with. The men around the table had all made their fortunes agreeing with him. As she looked around, she realized they all looked like clones of Mr. Jordan, in their old suits, all with the same disapproving expressions replacing the indulgent smiles of mere minutes ago. One of them, Mr. Tyler, cleared his throat and said, "I have to agree with Mr. Jordan. The system we've been using for our employees has served us well for 20 years. I just don't see a need to invest time or money in modernizing something like that."

  "That's just it," Becca said, "if you recall from our presentation, the existing system doesn't even accommodate—”

  "Becca," whispered Kaylee.

  Becca didn't want to look at her friend and coworker. If she looked over Kaylee and saw an expression of disappointment on her face, then this would all become too real, and she’d have to admit that the proposal she had been working on for a solid month was a waste of time. If I could just get them to listen. If they’d just open their minds to the facts, just for five minutes…

  She never did finish her sentence. Her voice trailed off into silence as she looked at the men staring back at her with stony faces, like a room full of disapproving uncles. Pressing her lips together, she nodded slowly, and reach down for her case. "Thank you gentlemen," she said softly. "If you change your minds, you know where to find us."

  Back in the elevator, Kaylee said, "I'm so sorry, Becca."

  “It was your project too,” said Becca. “I should be the one apologizing. I failed, somehow. Maybe if I’d jazzed up the Powerpoint more. Maybe if I’d included a few more savings estimates…”

  She closed her eyes when she felt Kaylee put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Becca. There will be other clients.”

  “It’s just confusing, because I know these numbers, they’re good numbers, we could have really—”

  “It’s okay to be angry,” said Kaylee.

  Becca shook her head. “No, it’s not. Anger doesn’t solve anything. Emotions are…they’re obstacles. I just need to clear my head. I need to figure this out.”

  Kaylee’s hand tightened on her shoulder. Becca felt like collapsing against her friend.

  “You don’t have to figure anything out right now,” Kaylee told her.

  “No, I do have to. I need to get back to the office. I need to go over everything. There was something in our presentation that they didn’t like. I just have to find it, I have to fix it—”

  “Absolutely not. Becca, you are not allowed to go back to work right now. I’m serious. You won’t let yourself feel it, I know, but this was crushing. You need some recovery time. I do, too. Let’s just take the rest of the day off.”

  Even though Kaylee was her best friend, Becca couldn’t tell her how humiliating it had been to lose Jordan & Huntley. I don’t like problems I can’t figure out. I don’t like people problems.

  She sighed. “I’m not hallucinating the fact that we did an excellent presentation, am I?”

  “I’m serious about you taking off,” said Kaylee. “You need to clear your head.”

  “What, you want me to go back to my stupid apartment?” The idea was suddenly unappealing. She’d been working so hard, that she hadn’t really decorated her place. It was bland and functional, and not at all what she needed right now. Maybe I should have added some comfortable furniture to the five-year plan. Or at least a TV.

  “Well, your sister might have a better idea of where you could go,” Kaylee said.

  “Oh, great. Yeah, drag myself back to the old hometown, tail between my legs. Good thinking.”

  “It’ll be a change of scenery. It’ll keep you busy, and keep your mind off Jordan & Huntley.”

  Becca leaned against the wall of the elevator. “It would get Sarah off my back for a little while.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Kaylee. “Those old guys upstairs can kiss our asses. As your b
usiness partner, I officially give you permission to call in sick the rest of the day, and all through the weekend.”

  Being around Sarah after this crushing defeat wasn’t Becca’s idea of fun, but as she walked back to her car, she realized that she could really use some big open spaces, the kind of space she’d grown up with at Myers Lake, far from conference rooms and elevators and parking decks.

  Hell, maybe Sarah was right, and they could visit some old haunts. Maybe look up some of her old friends and see how they'd been doing, staying in Myers Lake their whole lives.

  Ehh, she thought, maybe not that last part.

  2

  Don’t drop the soap, dude,” Jack said from the other shower stall.

  Trent laughed. “Oh yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He listened to his buddy’s laughter echo off the tiles, and soaped himself up, washing away the sweat from their workout. His muscles were pleasantly sore, and his limbs had that stretched-out feeling that only came from lifting heavy iron with his best friend. Soap suds ran down the ridges of his flat, muscular belly, getting caught in the tangles of hair.

  It should have felt great, standing under the water. But it didn’t. Where had all the endorphins gone?

  He leaned against the tiles. Maybe if I just stay in the shower, I don’t have to talk to Jack at all. If he can’t see my face, he won’t realize something is up.

  It turned out it was easy to keep a secret while the weights themselves were in play. Lots of concentration and grimacing; hard to get distracted.

  But now? Now Trent was distracted as hell, and it bothered him.