The Love of Money II – Chapter 25: Collateral

I entered the study and shut the door, hoping I didn’t reek of sex.

It was bad enough that my hand was coated in Natalie’s arousal from fingering her after the dungeon, but as soon as Natalie had taken off, Erin appeared and decided I needed to be taken care of.

Fifteen minutes later, after some sanitizer and a spritz of cologne, I’d done my best to erase all signs that I’d wandered through a sexual playground on my way to see Phoebe. Even if I was her only hope, a twinge of guilt fired off as I spotted her standing by the fireplace, rubbing her arms together and looking anxious as she waited for news about her kid.

She turned as soon as she heard the door shut, a mixture of hope and trepidation written across her face.

“Marcus!”

“Hey, Phoebe,” I said, slipping my hands in my pockets as I took a few steps into the room.

She approached me, still hugging herself. “Erin said you had news?”

I nodded, halting a few feet away from her, self-conscious that she might notice a stain or smell. “Yeah,” I said. “I have a private investigator on retainer. After I left last night, I had him track down Jim. The good news is that he sucks at hiding his tracks. My guy found him in hours. He’s in a town not far from your hometown in South Dakota.”

Phoebe put a hand to her mouth and gasped. “He always hated it there! Why would…”

She trailed off as she looked past me, lost in thought.

“Not sure what he’s doing there,” I said when it looked like Phoebe wasn’t going to finish her question, “but both of them are fine. My guy has a man watching them, and if Jim leaves, he’ll follow them. For now, they’re in a cheap motel.”

“God.” Phoebe put a hand to her forehead, clearly upset. “They’re already so far away… and Jim’s probably just feeding Nate junk out of vending machines.”

My first thought was that eating junk out of vending machines and staying in motels might seem like a cool adventure for a little kid, but Nate was severely attached to Phoebe, and Jim didn’t have the temperament to deal with toddlers. I doubted that eating candy for dinner would placate the kid all that much.

“What happens next?” Phoebe asked.

“Well,” I said, “We could get the cops involved… have them show up and do a wellness check. The problem is, Jim is Nate’s legal guardian, so I don’t know that there’s much the police could do unless Nate has…”

I didn’t want to upset her by finishing that sentence.

“…signs of abuse,” Phoebe finished my thought.

“We could try it,” I said, giving her a tense smile.

“Is that my only option?”

“Well,” I said, hesitating as I considered the best way to describe the next option. “I could get my guy to bring Nate back for you. We could probably have him back in less than twenty-four hours.”

“That,” Phoebe snapped at the idea. “That one.”

“Well, it comes with some problems—”

“Please, Marcus,” Phoebe said, stepping closer as she stared up at me through dark lashes. “I want my son back.”

“I know,” I said. She was close enough for me to lay a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it gently. “It’s just that… it could be perceived as kidnapping, and we could end up facing serious legal troubles.”

“Like… they could take my baby away?” Phoebe’s voice sounded on the verge of cracking. “How is that fair? Jim took him!”

“No,” I said. “I wouldn’t let that happen. I’ve got an army of lawyers who could bury him in court fees. We would win. You just need to know that there could be complications if we do it that way.”

“But I’ll get him back?” Phoebe asked.

If Psalter could extract me from the middle of Norwegian forests, kidnapping a small child from his father would be a cakewalk.

“My guys are good at this sort of thing.”

Phoebe stared back at the fire and contemplated her options, and I took the opportunity to admire her half Native American features. Firelight danced in her golden eyes, and pearlescent white flashed as her teeth worried at her bottom lip. She was in shape for a stay-at-home mom and had a natural beauty that was characteristic of a woman in her early thirties, who was showing signs of maturity. On closer inspection, I could see remnants of her youthful twenties still lingering in her face. ‘Wholesomely beautiful’ was a perfect term to describe her.

“If the police show up,” she finally said, “Jim will leave as soon as they’re gone.”

She finally looked back at me. “Just get him back to me, Marcus. I don’t want anyone hurt. I just want Nate. I’ll worry about the rest later. Can you do that?”

I nodded. “Of course. I’ll have them move on it as soon as possible and notify me once he’s safe. How does that sound?”

Phoebe fell the remaining few steps between us and crashed into my chest, wrapping her slender arms around me and squeezing tight. “Thank you, Marcus!”

I hesitated a moment before settling my arms around her waist. I clasped my hands at the small of her back and nestled my nose into her hair. Our embrace was more intimate than it had any right to be. Before I was wealthy, we’d always resorted to small talk in the hallway and an occasional hug, but we’d never been close enough to hold each other like this.

Well, except when she kissed me the last time I was in my old apartment. At the time, Jim had been in the picture, and they’d clearly had a falling out. Now that her husband had run away, I was acutely aware that their relationship was over, leaving me holding an eligible and exceedingly attractive single mother in the middle of my office… alone.

There wasn’t anything overtly sensual about the way we held onto each other—just a grateful woman hugging the man who was helping get her child back. I kept reminding myself of that as I felt her press herself into me and sigh. Thank God I’d fucked Erin before coming in here. It meant there wasn’t a risk of Phoebe feeling what would have been a guaranteed boner after remembering that kiss we’d shared.

I pressed my lips into the top of her head and murmured, “Don’t worry, Phoebe. My guys will get Nate back safely, and by this time tomorrow, he’ll be back with you.”

She looked up, forcing me to lift my face from her hair just in time to keep my lips from brushing her forehead.

“Thank you,” she said with a watery smile. She blinked back tears. “You’ve been so good to me… I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

“It’s no problem,” I said.

“Once I have him back, I’ll start looking for places to stay… and a job.”

“Do you not like your apartment?” I asked.

“It’s so nice,” Phoebe said, “but I can’t stay there. It’s way too expensive to—”

“Like I said… don’t worry about it. It’s yours, if you want.”

“I can’t—”

“And you don’t have to look for a job, either.”

After all the time spent watching Phoebe put up with Jim’s crap, wishing there was something I could do, I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction at heaping blessings on her… making up for my inability to help in the past. 

She looked like she was about to cry. “You know I can’t do that.”

“You can if I’m asking you to. It’s the least I can do after watching how he treated you over the last year or two.”

“That’s not on you.”

“Just let me do this,” I said.

“Marcus… it’s too much!”

That was fair. I probably would have felt the same way. “What if I offered you a job and made your apartment part of your pay?”

She searched my face as if looking for any sign that I was playing some kind of cruel joke on her. Finally, she said, “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” I said.

“What kind of job?”

I hadn’t gotten that far. Based on what I knew of Phoebe, she didn’t have much in the way of business skills—she’d always been a stay-at-home wife and mom. I knew she was good with plants, and kept a clean and tidy house… and I did have a massive house, as well as a really nice rooftop garden.

“My housekeeper is a little short-staffed and could probably use some extra help. I’ve also got a garden that needs to be maintained. Interested?”

She didn’t immediately respond, and as I met her gaze, I could feel as if she were searching for something.

Eventually, she buried her face in my chest and began openly weeping.

I hesitated, my hands hovering over her back, unsure whether to wrap them around her or not. “Is… that a yes?”

She nodded emphatically, keeping her face buried in my shirt as she cried.

I eased my arms around her shoulders again and simply let her unload all of her emotions. After all, she’d just found out she was getting her kid back after having him stolen from her, had acquired a job, and a place to live… all in one fell swoop. I couldn’t blame her for being overwhelmed.

As for me… it felt fucking fantastic to do something completely selfless for someone in need without expecting anything in return.

It felt gloriously human.

***

A few minutes later, I opened the door to my study to escort Phoebe back to her room when I saw Helen, Erin, and Henry Psalter waiting. Psalter and Helen looked deep in discussion, but Erin was simply leaning against the wall, waiting for us, wearing a red and white striped bikini which had been on Bobbi until recently.

Phoebe was a little taken aback by the presence of all the people near the door, but Erin kept her attention as she bounced off the wall and approached us. “I hope those are happy tears!”

My ex-neighbor gave her a weepy smile. “They are.” Then she hesitated, looking Erin up and down. “Is that a different suit?”

“Wardrobe malfunction,” Erin said dismissively. “So… you guys have a solution?”

“We do,” I said.

“Mrs. Lucas,” Helen said, stepping next to Erin. “I’m Helen VanCamp—Mr. Upton’s lawyer.” She offered Phoebe a hand.

Phoebe hesitated and then shook her hand.

“Forgive the attire. I was invited to Mr. Upton’s homecoming celebration.”

“The party,” Phoebe said. “Erin told me.”

“Yes. I’ll be advising him on the best course of action from a legal standpoint so that we can minimize any impact his actions might incur.”

“Thank you,” Phoebe said.

“Erin,” I said. “Why don’t you escort Phoebe back to her room while I talk to Mrs. VanCamp?”

“Will-do, boss,” Erin said.

Phoebe and Erin left, with the former giving me one more grateful hug and a whispered thank you before departing. Once they were out of sight, Helen, Psalter, and I retreated into the study.

“Erin and Henry filled me in on the details,” Helen said as she slunk her way into the center of the room, still dressed in her red bikini, collar, and nothing else. She turned and fixed me with an inquisitive stare. “What are you considering?”

“I told her we had two options: call it in and let the authorities do what they can or let Psalter’s people bring the kid back to his mom.”

“And which one did she prefer?”

“Psalter.”

“And of course, you’re calling the authorities,” Helen said.