Victorious(46)

I have so many things I want to do and explore with her. I can’t wait for all of it. Soon, I’ll take her to the club, where she’ll get her first exposure to the public aspect of my chosen lifestyle. I hope someday we’ll get to the point where scenes at the club are a routine part of our life together. But if we never get there, I’ll be perfectly satisfied—and content—with what we already have.

We spend a lazy and relaxing weekend at home. Natalie’s foundation notepad is never far from her side, and she adds to it regularly as we brainstorm ideas for programs. She wants to bring in the national teachers’ union as a partner in helping us to reach the children most in need, which I think is a fantastic idea. Who would know better than the teachers who work on the front lines with the kids each day?

I love her passion for my passion project, and I’m thrilled to have her involved.

All weekend, I try to forget about the looming appointment with the FBI agent. That he wants to talk to Natalie, too, fills me with anxiety that has me tossing and turning on Sunday night.

At some point, I fall asleep only to be awakened by the alarm on Natalie’s phone. It’s way too early to be awake after being up most of the night stewing, but remembering why she had set the alarm so early puts me immediately on alert. The goal today is to end this bullshit with the FBI once and for all.

“Did you sleep?” Natalie asks.

“Some.”

Fluff stands and stretches, spots me on the other side of Natalie and shows me her ten stumpy teeth. She gets a lot done with those remaining teeth.

“Stop it, Fluff. This is Daddy’s bed. He can sleep here, too.”

“When did I become her daddy anyway?”

“When you married her mommy.” She says this as if it makes perfect sense, which is utterly adorable.

“I never signed on for that, and P.S., this is our bed, not mine. Ours.” I yawn deeply, remembering the multiple events that lie ahead.

It’s going to be a long day and nowhere near as much fun as the weekend was. I’m thrilled to finally receive an Oscar nod for acting, but I’d much rather spend today alone with my new wife than schmoozing at yet another Hollywood event. “I need a shower to wake up. Want to join me?”

“Only if you’ll sign a no-sex waiver. I’m on hiatus.”

“Says who?”

“Says my bruised and battered body. And judging from the bloated crampy feeling I woke up with, I’m due to get my period today, so we’re out of commission for a while.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Have you forgotten that you signed over control of your sexual satisfaction to me, which means you don’t get to say when?”

“I get to say not then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No. You don’t.”

“Where’s Fluff when I need her?”

“The dog or the safe word?”

“The dog. I want her to bite your ass again.”





Emmett arrives about twenty minutes before our eight o’clock meeting with Vickers. Natalie and I are fresh out of the shower, where she was true to her word—no sex. That’s okay. I’ll let her make it up to me later. She hasn’t yet dried her hair, and she looks fresh-faced and young as we meet with my attorney and close friend.

“What happened to Rogers anyway?” I ask him over coffee.

“You don’t already know?” Emmett asks, surprised. As always, he’s decked out in one of the custom bespoke suits he has made on twice-a-year trips to London’s Savile Row.

“I suffer from a staggering lack of curiosity where he’s concerned.”

“He was stabbed in his office. No sign of forced entry, and whoever killed him made him suffer first. His left ear was cut off, his right pinky finger—”

When I see Natalie go pale, I hold up a hand to stop Emmett.

“Sorry. I figured you guys had read about it by now.”

“We can’t possibly be the only ones with motive,” Natalie says.

“You aren’t. The stories coming out of Lincoln tell a tale of a life gone totally off the rails. He was big into gambling and owed money all over the place.”

“So we basically handed him the golden egg when Natalie appeared with me at the Globes.”

“That’s my speculation. And I believe it’s possible that someone knew he’d come into the money and was looking for their share when he was killed. Our guy is working that angle right now—who did Rogers owe that would be interested in his big payday?”

I glance at Natalie. “You see why we love Emmett so much?”

“I can definitely see.”

Emmett smiles at her. “Just doing my job and protecting my friends. This whole thing is bullshit.”

The doorbell rings, and I go to admit Vickers. He takes a long look around at my house, which makes me wish I’d had this meeting at the office instead. This’ll give him a story to tell in his retirement, the time he suspected the movie star of murder. If only he could’ve proved it, the case would’ve made his career.

As I have that thought, I begin to understand Vickers’s motivation. Pinning Rogers’s murder on me—or Natalie—would make him a star. Yeah, that’s gonna happen over my dead body.