by KB Winters
Jasper had too much shit on his plate with the escape of Savannah Rhymer and the possible return of her shithead brother. It was a big deal that Jasper had even lowered himself to admit that he needed help. So, when he called a meeting with me, I couldn’t refuse.
He said, “Kat, I need you to stand in for me at the gym. Be my surrogate, Handle all the shit for fight night.”
Once I realized my ears were working properly and I wasn’t hearing things, I jumped in with both feet, determined to do a damn good job.
And yeah, maybe showing my big brother that he wasn’t the only one who could do the job and do it well, played a small part. I liked my temporary title, Head of Operations, House of Ashby. Yes, that suited me just fine.
I got back to my own work, thankful to be the buzz of activity at Emerald Isle after what happened yesterday. There was more security here than at Black Stallion. The Stallion crowd was younger and hipper and a lot less affluent than our clientele. The gym had cameras everywhere. Anyone who meant to harm me or anyone else might succeed, but they would regret it immediately.
Most of all, there was no Terry Manning here, ruining my equilibrium and my ability to think clearly. I spent half the day yesterday thinking about how good it felt to be pressed up against his hard chest and the strong muscles in his arms. And the way he smelled, like man and sex and heaven all wrapped up in one delicious package.
He was, to me, a nice bottle of red and a big fat hooter at the end of a long day, but he was also off limits. Way off limits. For entirely too many reasons, which is why I was determined to get my mind off Terry and back on the men and women involved in Fight Night.
I had a shit ton of press to do, for trainers like Emmett, but also for the headlining fighters, especially the ones out of House of Ashby. Hotel rooms were booked and double checked for special diets and other needs. It was my job to make sure everyone else did what they needed to do so that everyone got paid.
Especially the Ashbys.
A knock sounded on the door, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked up, prepared to see my assistant, not my brother.
“Jas, what are you doing here?” I half expected Terry to come in behind him but he was, thankfully, alone.
“We need to talk. About Fight Night.” His expression was somber and when he stepped in and closed the door, I knew he had something serious on his mind. Jasper wasn’t one to beat around the bush, so I leaned back in my chair and watched him closely as he took the seat in front of me and crossed his legs.
“What about it?”
He sighed and leaned forward on his elbows, fingertips steepled together as his gaze met mine.
“We have three belt fights, all Ashby fighters. We can only have two wins.”
I nodded at what he was saying. I understood clearly; it was just the way things were done sometimes and I accepted that. There was just one thing I didn’t get.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I need you to inform Ravager without Emmett finding out.”
Shit. Of course, that was what he wanted. Emmett was a stand-up guy, a former Navy man with a distinct sense of honor and fairness. He would never agree to fix a fight. Especially when he refused as a fighter even knowing it could’ve cost him his fighting career. In the end, it hadn’t cost him anything because Ma had respected him for taking a stand. She was strange that way.
“Why me?” Rob had a crazy as look in his eyes, and I kept my distance whenever I could. “He wants to fuck me, which means he won’t listen to a damn thing I have to say, even with my last name.” It was the shittiest part of being a woman on either side of the business. Sexism was a motherfucker. “Plus, this is only his sixth pro fight, a belt fight at that. You really think he’s gonna take a fall?”
“For fuck’s sake Kat, he doesn’t need to take a fall. What the hell kind of movies have you been watching?” Jasper looked at me like he thought I was crazy. I just smiled. “Rob is undefeated and the bets reflect that, which is why he’s gotta do it. If he wants to fuck you, use that to get him to agree to this. We need it to look good. Make it close.”
I shook my head in disgust. “I’m not flirting with that maniac for any reason. This is a Jasper task, and since I’m doing everything else, you can handle it.”
He nodded and stood, pressing his palms flat against my desk. “Right now, you are Jasper. If he’s a shit about it, I’ll do it.”
I sighed and nodded, knowing that when Jasper found a reasonable solution there was no arguing with him. “Fine.” I scribbled a note on my tablet to talk to the middleweight contender and looked back at my brother.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. Terry said some guy tried to mug you?”
I wasn’t surprised at all Terry had told Jasper about the parking lot incident, but I was surprised he’d downplayed it because I saw the look in that guy’s eyes. He meant to do me harm.
“Yep. It’s a good thing Terry spotted me and said something totally sexist and condescending to get my attention.”
Which I realized last night over my third glass of wine; he’d done on purpose to get a reaction out of me.
As if I needed another reason to be attracted to Mr. All Wrong For Me. Still, I made a note to send Terry a thank you gift.
“Anything on Mueller?”
“Not yet.” When there was something concrete to tell, I would. “I’m approving another assistant for Maisie. She’s buried in guests wanting her to do everything. Shes one person. And this fight has the place booked full of high rollers for weeks at a time on both sides of Fight Night. She needs the help.”
“Fine,” he said with an easy smile. “Who knew she’d be so capable? Nothing but compliments from the big spenders.”
They loved Maisie and handed out the most lavish gifts that it was borderline inappropriate for an engaged woman.
“I’m surprised Virgil hasn’t gone full beast on any of them yet, especially that Greek dude who bought her a pink jet.”
“It was a small jet,” he said as if that made any difference at all. “Well she did get him and his teenage daughter tickets and backstage passes to Lady Gaga. Besides, Virgil is the one who’ll fuck her on that jet.”
I groaned and shook my head. “Seriously, Jas? Gross.”
He gave an unapologetic shrug and a matching smile. “They are two adults in love Kat; they have sex. You do remember what sex is, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s when I spread my legs like this and grab a cock like this—” I cupped my hands in a crude gesture that had my brother on his feet and marching toward the exit. I laughed and smacked the desk.
“Anything else?”
“No,” he growled and turned in front of the still closed door. “I’m just a call away if you need anything, Kat. Anything.”
“I know, Jas. Thanks, and stay safe out there.”
“Always,” he said with a nod and patted the spot where he kept the copper gun Dad had left him in the will.
When Jasper left, I turned my attention back to work, but of course, thoughts of Terry began to creep in again. Jasper’s fault. On what planet did brothers and sisters talk about their sex lives? Definitely not this one.
Maybe it was time I started making room in my life for personal things. Like sex. And orgasms.
They were great. At least I remembered them being great.
Chapter Four
Terry
One of the good things about living and working in Glitz compared to Las Vegas was the lack of traffic at the end of the day. Ten minutes from Midnight Mass to home, max, no matter the time of day. My house was nothing like Ashby Manor in terms of size, grandeur or décor, but it was mine. Even though Sadie had offered me a spot at the Manor, her way of showing that she saw me as a legit member of the family, it just didn’t feel right.
Not anymore.
It wasn’t the same as spending every day and most nights there when I was a kid, because Dad was busy chasing ass and Mom was busy ch
asing that next high. This was different and no matter how often Sadie brought it up, I stood strong.
Now that I was a grown man, I loved my privacy.
Located only about a mile away from the gates of Ashby Manor, my place was bigger than I needed, but until a few months ago, Emmett had been my reluctant roommate. I liked having the space to roam around when I couldn’t sleep, when I needed to think. Besides, I’d spent my childhood in studio and one bedroom apartments and having more space was a luxury I could now afford.
My space was open and bright with lots of windows that allowed plenty of light to come inside when I wanted to, and the remote controlled black out blinds meant I could have privacy when I wanted it. My favorite spot in the house was the floor to ceiling windows just off the kitchen, where I could watch the sun sink below the horizon and the stars twinkle in the sky.
It was late evening and the blinds were activated just in case any enemies thought I’d be an easy mark away from the Manor. They could try; I had enough weapons stashed to make sure they didn’t live to regret it.
The sound of the doorbell took my gaze reluctantly away from the view of the small manmade lake behind my house, the glittering reflection of the stars as they popped in the sky. I took my time going downstairs, ignoring the second more urgent ring to check the security screen before answering.
Two kids who couldn’t have been more than twenty stood on the doorsteps in what looked like chef’s whites. I opened the door to their smiling faces and shook my head.
“Not interested.”
The guy’s smile faltered easily, but the girl wasn’t intimidated in the least. She stepped forward, her smile even brighter.
“Gourmet for Hire, at your service. Everything is prepped, as requested, for your gourmet experience. The only thing left is for Jack and me to plate it up. Then we’ll be on our way,” she said, hanging onto the charming smile I was sure worked for her more times than it didn’t. “Ten minutes. Max.” She took another bold step forward, only stopping when my hand went up.
“I didn’t order this.” And if this was type of scam to get me to pay for some overpriced meal, they’d regret choosing my house.
“Your girlfriend did.” The girl’s smile never wavered when I glared at her. She simply produced a small cream-colored card and slid it between my fingers. Then, she waited patiently for me to read it.
Thanks for saving my life, stalker. I owe you one. ~KA
I smiled at Kat’s words and took a step back to let the kids enter. I wasn’t about to turn down a gourmet meal from a beautiful woman.
“Kitchen is straight back, thanks.” As the kids marched down the hall in hushed whispers, I reread the note in disbelief. Kat was nice to everyone, but I’d always gotten the impression that she looked down on me. Not always, but after one particularly embarrassing evening when my mother showed up, drunk, to Ashby Manor and forced me home for a family dinner of fried bologna sandwiches and generic cheese puffs. After that, Kat noticed the social differences between us and her schoolgirl crush had vanished.
Instantly.
But this gift, it was different.
Not that I was about to go off daydreaming about my best friend’s little sister, which was sheer madness. But it would be rude not to say thanks, wouldn’t it?
Thanks for dinner. No poison? Her reply came before I could shove my phone back into a pocket.
Not that I know of. Eat it all and let me know so I can call the right people to complain, yeah?
Her words pulled a laugh from me that echoed in the foyer, which reminded me that there were two young strangers preparing food for me in the kitchen. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t indulge in a little harmless flirting while I waited to eat. You’ll be sad when I’m gone.
The truth was it probably wouldn’t impact her much at all, beyond the sadness that an honorary member of the family had died. Yet still, I stared at the screen, waiting for another message. Kat didn’t disappoint. Of course I will. Then I’ll have to find someone else to sneer at me for the next twenty years.
“What?” I shook my head at the message, reading and re-reading it to make sure I’d read it right. Kat thought all those longing looks I tried to hide were sneers. I guess that was better than her knowing the truth and feeling obligated to give the old it’s not you, it’s me speech. I refused to touch that message, knowing my denial would only make her believe it was true.
“Did you have a question, Mr. Manning?”
I blinked and looked up at the freckle-faced chef with the earnest smile. “Sorry, no. That was a rhetorical question.”
“Okay, then. The wine has sufficiently breathed. I can pour you a glass if you’d like.”
“Sure.” I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but this was the meal that Kat had picked out for me, to say thanks for saving her sweet little ass, so I would indulge. Completely. “Thank you.”
I took a sip and listened as she prattled on and on about the flavor and undertones of the wine, the full bodied-ness of it. I didn’t know what any of that meant and I didn’t care.
“Damn good wine, thanks.”
Five minutes later, Jack and his freckle-faced sidekick had a four-course gourmet Italian meal laid out before me. I enjoyed every single bite, savored the flavors and the meal.
All courtesy of one sexy as fuck Kat Ashby.
Chapter Five
Kat
One of the things I loved about spending days at the Emerald Isle casino compared to Black Stallion was The Cute Parisian Bistro. As the name indicated, it was a cute little Parisian style bistro complete with wrought iron tables and chairs, a chalkboard menu, and softly playing French pop music playing through strategically placed speakers.
It was my favorite place to have lunch, especially when I was feeling particularly ravenous, like today. They had the best steak sandwiches in the world, perfectly seasoned with a bit of au jus on the side, and thick steak fries that would force me to earn my work out later today. Normally, I’d eat at my desk, and my assistant would deliver this masterpiece to my office. Today, I was exhausted, and it wasn’t even one o’clock yet. I needed a break and people watching for forty-five minutes in the heart of the Emerald Isle, would do the job beautifully.
I loved to people watch, to figure out the intimate details of people’s lives just by observing them without their knowing it. Was that couple in the corner enjoying a secret rendezvous or was it as innocent as it appeared on the surface? Were those retirees undercover officers or worse, were they like the couple staying in one of the Mueller Suites?
“Hey, you’re Katherine Ashby, right?”
The sound of my name took my gaze from the teenagers who’d just bounced in looking way too fashionable for the middle of a school day. They were either older than they looked or playing hooky to meet up with some older guys, the same way I had when I was their age. Except I had enough sense to get lost in the bigger casinos that Vegas had to offer. The question came from a young girl who looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen. The thin layer of dirt on her skin and the ill-fitting clothes pegged her as a runaway.
“Who’s asking?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes, a move that added about two extra years of attitude. “Cute. Look, I know you’re her because I looked you up online and there are a lot of photos of you. A lot. You run this place, is that true?”
The next shakedown is always around the corner, another of those life lessons from dear old Dad. Another tip that had turned out to be more useful than not over the years. I didn’t get the scam artist vibe from this girl, not yet anyway, so I proceeded with caution.
“What can I help you with…?”
“Madison,” she filled in with a sigh. “My name is Madison.”
I nodded and motioned for her to sit in the unoccupied chair. “Okay, Madison with no last name, what can I do for you?”
She dropped down in the chair with a reluctant huff and leaned on her elbows with a frown on her face.
“You can tell me why you’re offering safe harbor to freaks and pervs and murderers.” Her voice got louder as she went on and then it lowered as she looked around, noticing her volume had drawn stares.
“Those are some pretty serious accusations, Madison. Care to elaborate on that? Over a meal, maybe?” Her gaze narrowed to suspicion, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Based on her allegations, she either had a hard life or a very active imagination.
“Just use your inside voice, and I’ll keep an open mind. I promise.”
If nothing else, she was a kid in trouble, and I knew something about that. If I could help her, I would.
“For real?” I nodded and she sat back, folding her arms defensively. “Why?”
“You said you know who I am, right? Not just that I run this place?”
She nodded, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Yeah? So?”
“Then you know that I have nothing to fear from you and you also know that I can probably help.” I watched Madison weigh her options, chewing her bottom lip as she decided whether she could trust me, or if I would be just another person to let her down.
“It’s my sister, Molly. She came to Glitz to work as a housekeeper and cook for a nice Catholic family.” Madison said the words with derision and disgust, her emphasis gave me a nasty feeling in my gut. “Anyway, the couple worked for some bigwig in The Church, so of course, our parents were happy to fork over the hundred bucks for her bus ticket, especially when she promised to send part of her paycheck home to them.”
“Where are you from?”
Madison blinked as if she hadn’t expected the question. “That’s not important.”
“It’s important to me.” The only way to make sure she was legit, was to check her story out.
“I’ll tell you when I decide if I can trust you or not.” Her words were spoken with the bravado of a street kid who had to be tough just to survive from one day to the next. I’d met plenty of kids like Madison; hell I’d almost ended up a kid like her when I was sixteen.
“Fine. Keep going.”
A waiter approached with a friendly smile. “Excuse me, Ms. Ashby, do you need anything else?”