by KB Winters
A knock sounded on the door, and I froze, looking around the room as if there was an intruder lurking in the dark corners. Slowly, I sat up on the sofa and looked around once again when the next round of knocking began. This was the Penthouse suite, and no one got up without a key or a call. Curiosity got the better of me, and I crept down the hall toward the door and looked through the peephole with a frown.
“Dell, what are you doing here?” I asked when I opened the door.
Dell was a guy I saw semi-regularly a few times a month. He was big and blonde with beautiful blue eyes, the perfect cornfed midwestern man complete with dimples and tight jeans. He was gorgeous, and he loved to fuck. More importantly, he loved to make me come, which was my favorite thing about him.
“Hey, babe. Happy to see me?”
Hell no. I wasn’t in the mood for company, even if by some stretch of the imagination, I was able to get my body fired up for a fuck.
“Dell, you should have called. How did you get up here, anyway?”
He shrugged. “Held the door open for the elderly couple at the end of the hall, and they were happy to let me ride with them to surprise my girl who I haven’t seen in weeks.”
I made a mental note to mention that to Jasper when I saw him again. “Clever.”
“I thought so.” Finally, Dell took in the look of me and damn near winced, but he covered the frown quickly enough that I wasn’t completely offended.
“Go get beautiful, doll. I’ll wait.” He winked, and the only thing missing was the obligatory smack on the ass.
I shook my head. “Not tonight, Dell. I’m not feeling well.” And he of course, didn’t notice.
White-blond brows dip into a petulant frown. “Come on, babe, where’s my good-time girl?”
His words and his tone pissed me off in equal parts. I knew exactly who I was and who guys like Dell saw when they looked at me, and I was fine with it.
Except when I wasn’t. I gripped the doorknob in my hand and squeezed it tight while I kept my emotions under control. Mostly.
“Sorry to say that your precious good-time girl is sick and puking her guts up, not that you even notice or give a damn.”
A frustrated groan escaped, and I let the door go, slamming it with as much force as I could muster, right in his gorgeous fucking face.
I wanted to cry. Hell, what I really wanted was to be pissed off at Dell, but I wasn’t. I was mad at myself. Dell was good-looking, well-built, and he had a great job, a legit job that didn’t keep him in town for too long. He was perfect because there was nothing between us but a good time, but today he didn’t feel all that fucking perfect.
Was a good time enough?
The answer came easily. No.
It wasn’t good enough because no one stuck around good-time girls when they were sick or injured, when they needed something more than a stiff drink and a stiffer cock.
It wasn’t Dell’s fault for sticking to the norms we’d set more than a year ago. We didn’t show up with soup when the other was sick, and we didn’t call when we were apart. But, oh, we had a wonderful time when we were together. We went out to eat at high-end restaurants; we danced all night, took in shows and concerts, took helicopter rides over the Grand Canyon. Once, we even took off to Los Angeles for the night.
Whatever we did, Dell and I had a great time together.
But still, he couldn’t get away fast enough with my hair not done and sticking up in all directions, my face free of makeup, my body covered in cotton instead of silk, lacy pajamas.
Like all men, he wanted the illusion. The fantasy.
And it was my fault for being so fucking good at presenting that very fantasy.
Chapter Eleven
Jasper
It was Sunday, and normally when we all gathered around the dining room table, it would be a loud and festive occasion where we talked business, family, and professional. Today it was all wrong because Sadie’s seat was empty. Still. Fucking. Empty.
It didn’t matter that Virgil and Maisie showed up or that Kat and Terry had expectation in their eyes. Even Cal appeared, though he’d barely said five words to any of us. What remained of the Ashby family was accounted for in this room, and it felt wrong. All wrong.
“All right, we’re all here, so let’s stop wasting time and talk about what we need to talk about.”
Kat frowned and shook her head. “We’re not all here. Where’s Thomas?”
“Thomas isn’t here,” I growled. “He isn’t family.”
Kat snorted and shook her head, aiming a long French manicured finger in my face. “He’s not blood, but he is the reason you stopped getting your ass kicked in the fifth grade.” The satisfaction on her face that accompanied her words had my anger rising.
“That and a growth spurt,” Virgil added with a laugh.
Kat snorted again and rolled her eyes. “Thomas is important to Sadie, which means he’s important to us. He should be here.”
“Well Thomas isn’t here, Kat. Deal with it.”
We stared at each other, neither of us willing to back down because of our stubborn Irish roots. I grabbed the bottle of Velvet Fire from the middle of the table and poured three glugs into a glass.
“Look, I know shit is fucked up right now. It’s scary, and it’s stressful for all of us, but the only way we can help Sadie is to keep the Ashby Organization running. Keep everyone under our protection safe. She worked too fucking hard, gave up too much of herself, to make this organization, this family what it is today. She sacrificed even more than any of us know, and I plan to make damn sure that we don’t lose it all, or any of it, on my fucking watch.”
The room was dead fucking silent after my little speech, and I fought the urge to roar in anger.
“Are we done here?” Kat’s shitty attitude lately had me at my breaking point.
“We’re done when I say we’re fucking done, Kat. Do you have anything constructive to add to the conversation, or are you just here to show us all how bitchy you can be?”
The heat of anger flared in her blue eyes, but it was the only sign she felt anything. She glared back at me, unbothered by my outburst. “My job is running the way it always has, smooth like butter. Bookings are up, restaurant reservations have increased twenty percent from last quarter, and I’ve got three critics coming to check out the restaurants.”
“Good,” I sighed. “That’s really good. You could have just fucking led with that.”
She smiled and shrugged, her eyes sparkling like the mischievous little girl she’d been while the rest of us were fighting off grown men who wanted more than we were willing to give. I didn’t resent her for it, but if she knew, she might shut the fuck up a little more often.
Cal was silent, sulking and drinking more than he normally did. I tried to be patient, but dammit, this sullen teenager bullshit was getting old.
“You find anything on the security footage around the Green Zone yet?” Cal’s eyes were focused squarely on his empty plate like he was in a trance. A goddamn trance instead here with the rest of us. “Calvin!”
He startled and looked up, his exhausted gaze landing directly on me.
“Nope. I haven’t found a damn thing yet. It’s the fucking Green Zone. Every other person looks suspicious in dark clothes, hoodies, and hats.”
Kat let out a sharp laugh. “You need to spend more time around real people if you think the citizens of the Green Zone look suspicious, little brother.”
To his credit, Cal didn’t react to Kat’s words. He ignored her. “I’m scrubbing the footage from surrounding businesses, traffic lights, and even social fucking media. I’ll let you know when I have something.”
That shit didn’t make sense. “You have nothing? Are you telling me that after all the work Sadie did to fix this place up, you don’t even have an image of a dark figure setting up to shoot our fucking mother? Unacceptable, Cal. Un-fucking-acceptable.”
He sighed and raked a hand through his already disheveled hair.
“The cameras were scrambled along the shooter’s path, so there’s nothing for the seconds it took for him to pass by each business. He was careful about getting too close to Lucky Lopez cameras, so yeah, as of right now, I have jack shit.”
“Less than jack shit,” I clarified. “You need to work faster, or I’ll have to call in Jameson.”
Cal shrugged. “The cops have someone more skilled than me at this type of work? Let them give it their best fucking shot, then. You’ll do what you want anyway.”
“No, Cal, I’ll do what’s right for this family. Period. I always have, and I always will. Some of us don’t have the luxury of sulking all fucking day and night.”
“Sorry the murder of my wife is causing me some distress. If you were capable of love, you might understand how I feel.”
I smiled, but there was no amusement in it. “And if you hadn’t been such a pussy-whipped asshole, she might still be here with us. Sulk on your own fucking time Cal, this is important.”
“So was Bonnie,” he growled.
“I know,” I sighed. “But Bonnie isn’t here. Sadie is, and we need to find the fucker who shot her as soon as possible. Preferably before the cops do.”
I stared at my baby brother for a long time, wondering if he still had the stomach for the family business. He was one of us by birth, always had been and always would be, but Cal had never been as much into the business as the rest of us. And the loss of Bonnie combined with single fatherhood, and I wasn’t sure his heart was in it anymore.
Cal stared at me for a long time before he gave a short nod. “I’ll let you know when I find something.”
“Fine, but this is your primary focus until you find something. Got it?”
“Yeah,” he said on a soft, barely audible sigh.
Just then, the dining room door slid open, and Thomas appeared in his signature three-piece suit that was slightly rumpled, probably from spending another day at the hospital before he put in a late night at Lucky Lopez.
“Get the fuck out,” I growled with more anger than was necessary. “This is a family meeting.”
Thomas stared back at me, his dark gaze unflinching, his shoulders squared, his chest broad. He was a man confident in his own fucking skin, which just rubbed me the wrong way right now.
“Oh, fuck off, Jas. I just came back from the hospital with news, but only if the family is interested in what I have to say.” Without missing a beat, the old fuck turned around and walked away.
“Wait,” Kat called out to him and sent an icy glare my way. “Some of us want to know.”
Thomas turned and gave the same crisp nod as was his custom when Sadie needed something. “Earlier today, her heart rate spiked, and her blood pressure plummeted from a clot that formed. The doctors gave her some medicine, and her vitals are stable once again,” he told Kat before turning to me. “But you’re family ,and you own the fucking hospital, so I guess you already knew.”
I didn’t know, but I would never tell him so. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Her vitals indicate that she might be more awake than we realize, according to the doctors. I’ll be at the hospital if you need me. I’d hate for her to wake up alone.”
Without waiting for an order or a word of thanks, Thomas turned on his heels and left the ding room.
“Do you have to be an asshole every waking moment?” Kat glared at me, the hate in her eyes so visceral I could practically feel it.
“Not every waking moment,” I shot back with a smile. “Sometimes I’m very nice.” Though I couldn’t think of one person who might agree with that lately.
“Whatever,” she growled and stood as she shoved the chair back with her legs, nearly knocking the damn thing over. “I’m out of here.”
“We’re not done here.”
“Yeah, well, I am done here, Jasper. You can do your whole dick swinging thing for everyone else just to let us all know you’re in charge, but that doesn’t do shit for me. My job is what it is. You can go micromanage everyone else, but I’m fucking out of here. Enjoy the family dinner.”
Her derisive words, her scorn, left a tense silence along with the sound of her heels fading as her angry strides grew further from the dining room.
She actually fucking left. Of course, she did. Kat thought she was impervious to consequences, but I would show her just how wrong she was about that.
Chapter Twelve
Mo
The last goddamn thing I needed after the news I just got was to strap on a tight t-shirt with the Midnight Mass logo splashed across my tits—sensitive-as-fuck tits, thank you very much—and work a double shift.
Not that I had anything better to do or would have anything better for the next forty weeks or so because according to the doctor, I was knocked the fuck up.
Pregnant.
With child.
Up the duff.
Yeah. I sighed as I stuffed my purse and jacket into an employee locker and tied on my apron, mind racing with the news. Exactly twenty-one days ago I had sex. No, what I’d had was a good, hard, and incredibly hot fuck with Jasper Ashby, and now his baby was growing in my belly. It was unreal. Fuck that, it was unbelievable, and I felt like I was in a daze, walking around in one of those surreal dream states common after a shock or a trauma.
I should be happy. After all, Jasper was the man of my dreams. He was hot and rich and ruthless as fuck. He valued his family; he protected them fiercely, looked after them first and foremost. Any girl and any child would be lucky to be loved so fiercely. But the truth was, Jasper didn’t love me, and he’d never be mine. He looked at me and saw an easy lay, a paid fuck. He didn’t see a baby mama, never mind a girlfriend, fiancée, or wife.
“Glad to see you value your job after all,” Jasper growled at me from the door that led into the employee locker room. He was in a mood today, grumpy as hell. I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit, though, which was odd because where this man was concerned, I couldn’t seem to not give a shit.
“I’m feeling better today, so I’m here. But I’ll tell you what, Boss, the next time I’m puking all over the place, I’ll come in. The customers will love it, and I’m sure it’ll do great things for my tips. And your rating.”
The truth was I would probably be feeling sick as fuck a lot for the next few months, and I would come in and do my job. Babies were expensive, and I didn’t plan to give up my cushy lifestyle. Not that I’d have to once Jasper found out about the baby.
“How about you just don’t get sick in the first place?”
I threw my head back and laughed at that ridiculous statement. Jasper was so used to being King in his world, to running shit to his exacting standards that he—only he—would think a person could control when and if they got sick.
“Sure. Not even you are that powerful, Jasper.”
His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared at my words, and dammit, I felt heat snake its way down my whole body and settle between my thighs.
“Don’t test me, Mo.”
I laughed again and shook my head as I changed out of my pink Louis Vuitton sneakers and into a pair of black stilettos that did wonderful things for my ass and legs.
“You may look like a God and reign over your empire like a King, but not even you can control when you get sick.”
“I never get sick.”
“Oh, please. You were sick a few months back, but stubborn man that you are, pretended you weren’t and came into work anyway. Had to work double shifts for a week because two waitresses stayed home with the same flu you pretended not to have.”
“Bullshit,” he growled. “Don’t you have a job to do around here?”
I smiled at his angry tone because Jasper was so used to his power, to getting his own way, that very few people challenged him and even fewer got away with it.
He was smart as hell and quick-witted, so I took his anger as a sign that I’d won that interaction.
“I do,” I told him with a wide smile as I shimmied through the tight spot
that sandwiched me between his big, hard body and the doorframe.
“These customers ain’t gonna feed themselves.”
I strode down the hall that led to the dining room, a swing in my hips as Jasper just had to get in the last word.
“If they do, you’ll be out of a job.”
I waved off Jasper’s words because we both knew there was no way he would ever fire me. Until or if he finds out about the baby I’m carrying, that is. I was a damn good waitress, and I knew how to upsell with the best of them.
Most days I was the best waitress, but half-way through the double shift, I was sick and damn tired of excited football fans in need of endless beer refills, order after order of fries and onion rings, more shepherd’s pies than I’d ever slung in one day, and the least creative sexual innuendos I’d heard since middle school.
Let’s not even mention the outright lewd comments, the ass grabbing, and having my tits get more attention than my face. I was beyond ready to go home. Tired as fuck, hungry, and nauseous at the same time, with sore nipples that made me cranky. I was, at best today, a mediocre waitress.
Still, I kept a smile on my face because my tips depended on it. Being able to smile through the shit, I guess that was a skill honed at the hands and cock of dear old dad and his filthy fucking friends. I’ll be sure to send a thanks to him, hopefully down to the bowels of hell.
“Waitress, I’m still waitin’ on my ribeye!”
I didn’t need to turn to know who was barking orders at me from across the pub. Rufus, a high-tipping regular, so I smiled and gave a wave to let him know I was aware of his order. He’d only placed it like five minutes ago.
“Comin’ up, Rufus.” I headed into the kitchen and ran smack into Jasper.
His scowling face did nothing to deter the flames that licked at the back of my neck, the liquid heat that dampened my panties. “Don’t keep the customers waiting,” he growled at me.