How to Trap a Tycoon, Elizabeth Bevarly [best smutty novels txt] 📗

"These days, I'm inclined to agree with you," Dorsey said, picking up one of the dolls to run a finger over the smooth nylon hair. Carlotta had dressed the doll in an elegant, sapphire-colored evening gown, which Dorsey immediately began to remove.

Her mother gaped softly at her. "You? Ms. Feminist? Playing with Barbie? I thought you'd be one of the ones flaying her for her unbalanced, bulimia-inducing figure."

Dorsey waved a hand negligently before her, then reached for an outfit to clothe the now naked doll. "There are a lot of reasons for women to have eating disorders," she told Carlotta. "But Barbie isn't one of them. I mean, do you ever remember me as a little girl looking at Barbie and saying, 'Gee, I wish I had enormous hooters and a tiny wasp waist and tippy-toe feet like Barbie does'?"

"Not once," Carlotta confessed.

"Exactly," Dorsey concurred with a fierce nod. "It was the clothes. Nobody gets that. The clothes and all the adventures we used to send Barbie on. Remember?"

Carlotta laughed. "Oh, yes, I remember. I was always sending my Barbie off to Rio de Janeiro and Monaco and St. Moritz to meet movie stars and princes. Or," she added, holding up a GI Joe dressed in commando black, "to meet GI Joe, who was off on leave. You, on the other hand," she continued, "were always sending your Barbie off to logging camps and rain forests to fight deforestation or to Amnesty International conventions."

Dorsey laughed, too. "My Barbie had a social conscience."

"Whereas my Barbie had a good time."

Dorsey glanced up at her mother, who had put down GI Joe to dress her own blond Barbie in a peach-colored peignoir set. "Carlotta?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure I wasn't switched at birth with some other, princessy, baby that should have been yours?"

Her mother looked up at her and smiled. "I'm absolutely positive. Once you emerged from inside me and they put you in my arms, I never once let you out of my sight."

Dorsey smiled back. "Truly?"

"Truly."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, dear."

They said nothing more for a moment, only sat in comfortable silence dressing, undressing, and redressing their dolls. Then, out of nowhere, Dorsey announced, "I lost my job today."

Carlotta's hands hesitated on her doll, and she glanced up at Dorsey. "At Drake's?" she asked.

Dorsey nodded but couldn't bring herself to meet her mother's gaze. "Though the one at Severn , I'm sure, isn't far behind." Quickly, so she wouldn't have to think about it for very long, she added, "I lost Adam Darien, too."

Her mother said nothing for a moment, then asked, "What happened? Did you two get separated at the El?"

Dorsey shook her head sadly. "No. I think the two of us got separated before we ever even found each other."

She heard Carlotta sigh softly. "Do you want to start at the beginning? Or should I just keep asking questions until the whole messy story comes pouring out?"

Dorsey did meet her mother's gaze then, and before she could stop herself, the whole messy story did indeed come pouring out. She told Carlotta about what had happened in Lindy's office, about Lindy's findings and Adam's reaction—or lack thereof—about her employer's threat to press charges and sue, about how Lauren Grable-Monroe—and Dorsey—were going to be crucified for the public's entertainment.

The only thing she didn't tell her mother was how very terrified she was of the impending fallout, nor did she describe the depths of her despair where losing Adam was concerned. Those, she figured, were pretty much a given. Mostly because by the time she finished telling her story, even she thought she sounded terrified and despairing.

Carlotta's first response was adamant. "Lindy Aubrey can't have you arrested, Dorsey, nor can she sue you for anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You've done nothing illegal. Unless you've published your notes and called Lindy and her business all kinds of terrible, ugly names, she can't do anything. And even if you published your notes and called Lindy and her business all kinds of terrible, ugly names, she'd have to prove that she and her business weren't all those terrible, ugly things. And if you ask me, the moment that terrible, ugly woman took the stand, both judge and jury would find in your favor."

"I don't know…"

"Lindy was reacting out of anger and frustration and fear, Dorsey. When she speaks to her attorneys, they'll tell her she doesn't have a leg to stand on. You just wait."

"Then she'll probably take out a hit on me," Dorsey said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she has friends in that line of work. She might even pull the trigger herself."

"Oh, stop," Carlotta scolded. "Your work at Drake's and your dissertation are the least of your worries. What about Adam?"

Dorsey had rather hoped to avoid that topic. She should have known better. "What about him?" she stalled.

"What are you going to tell him?"

She scrunched up her shoulders and let them drop. "I'm not going to tell him anything."

"What?"

"He won't listen to me, Carlotta. I tried to explain at Drake's, but he's already drawn his own conclusions and sided with Lindy. He won't believe me."

Carlotta studied her in silence for some moments, then asked, "Why did you keep your notebooks at Drake's in the first place?"

It took Dorsey a minute to backpedal that far, but she finally told her mother, "In the beginning, I didn't keep them there, for fear of being discovered. But it was hard to keep my observations in my head until I got home at night to record them. I just thought it would be easier if I could jot them down when I took a break. And gradually, as I got to know Lindy…" She shrugged again. "I don't know. I just pegged her as the kind of person who wouldn't violate another person's privacy. She guarded her own so closely. It was more convenient to keep the notebooks at Drake's, and I just never thought she'd do something like