by Michael Todd
But she had to be there. One of the few downsides of having a title in name only in her company was that she had to make appearances for little events such as these. They were a pitiful bore that required her to clap politely as speech after speech interrupted the arrival of sub-par food and ludicrous amounts of alcohol.
Well, it wasn’t quite as torturous as all that, she mused and forced a smile on her face as one more speech came to an end. This one had thanked the year-long contributions of some benefactor who had their name put on a clinic somewhere in Florida.
“Andressa,” a familiar voice said. She turned to the man beside her. The suit itself should have been all she really needed to see—no bright colors, only a dull gray that served to emphasize the salt-and-pepper good looks of the man who wore it. She wasn’t sure who the man’s tailors were, but she had to compliment them on their work.
“Carlson,” she said and extended her hand. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight.”
“I make a point to help out where I can,” Carlson replied with a gleaming smile. “My…second wife had a problem with breast cancer, so she reduces my alimony payments for each contribution I make here. It’s not fair, but at least this way, I get a free dinner out of it, right?”
“Free?” Andressa asked, tilting her head. “I had to drop ten thousand for my plate here.”
“Your company will cover that cost, I expect.” Carlson took her offered hand and raised it smoothly to his lips.
In any other life, she would have been one of possibly hundreds of women who would lay everything on the table to have a night out with a man as rich and good-looking as him. He was stunning, but there was a side to him that made those good looks seem cloying. It reminded her of the way her mouth felt when she had too much honey and the taste turned bland.
She kept her smile in place, however. “What’s the point of being an inactive vice president of butt-fucking nothing if you can’t toss those motherfuckers some bills to pay for me, right?” Andressa asked and noted with a small amount of pleasure how some of the more conservative characters present seemed shocked by her foul language. Let them be shocked and clutch their pearls. See if she gave a damn.
“I couldn’t have voiced it better myself,” he responded and his voice dropped to a whisper as yet another speaker took to the podium and droned into the microphone.
“I take it that my last delivery was acceptable?” she said, her voice hushed to match his. She still needed to make nice with her real boss, and using the cover of a disgruntled, foul-mouthed employee did wonders to make sure that the wagging tongues only stuck to how she’d used the f-word in an inappropriate manner. Twice!
“More than acceptable.” He leaned in closer. “It almost makes up for you fucking up the Monroe situation.”
Andressa looked at him and kept her smile intact while she pictured slashing his throat with the expensive silverware.
“You told me to only use local talent,” she replied easily but her smile began to feel brittle and strained. “Are you really surprised that they ended up losing their ground against someone who’s been trained and gained experience in one of the most dangerous places on the planet?”
“A good craftsman never blames his tools,” he retorted.
“That’s some primo fortune cookie wisdom, Carlson. Have you considered using it for yourself?”
“Point taken,” he conceded like some magnanimous overlord condescending to acknowledge a peasant. “Rodrigo tells me you made some demands of him.”
“And he’ll be paid very well for his efforts,” Andressa muttered. “And it seems, from what he told me, that I’m doing your work for you. Apparently, you tried to eliminate these very same people not that long ago.”
“Great minds think alike, Andressa.” He pushed from his seat as the speech came to an end and everyone clapped. “Let’s see if you can succeed where I’ve failed. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“I will,” Andressa said. “Asshole,” she added as he moved out of earshot. She slumped a little in her seat and gestured for one of the waiters with a wine bottle to refill her glass.
Chapter Twelve
Courtney rubbed her eyes as she leaned back in her seat. She’d left the office with alcohol on her mind but she wasn’t in the mood to go to a bar to be hit on by the lamest hopefuls Los Angeles had to offer. Instead, she chose a classier establishment, a smaller but very elegant cigar room that provided all kinds of drinks and even had a modest menu for the discerning customer. It had the feel of a family-owned restaurant while it was classy enough for someone with a hefty checkbook to not feel like they were slumming it.
She ordered the cod that they’d added to the menu paired with some white wine and a chocolate lava cake for dessert.
Even she had to admit that being rich had its perks. She would probably get bored and find something to complain about before too long. Inevitably, she would wish for the Zoo later tonight, but for now, as she enjoyed the light yet satisfying meal, she felt… Well, not quite happy, but at least content.
It was easy to understand why her father frequented the place. She’d found business-related receipts charged to the company, which showed that he came often to wine and dine his business partners. It was logical that he came in his off hours too and she could see why. The pleasant, roomy atmosphere paired well with smooth jazz that played through the smaller speakers hidden around the room. That, added to the excellent, if limited, stock of food and drink, made it a great place to relax if you had the money for it and nobody waiting for you at home.
Which he hadn’t, she mused and rubbed gently at her cheek.
“Hey.” She looked up, a little startled, as Robinson sat opposite her at her table.
“What are you doing here?” Courtney asked and tried to keep her voice pleasant. “And how did you find me?”
“All the corporate phones have GPS tracking turned on,” he said in an off-hand manner and shook his head. “And you’re still carrying yours around, even if you refuse to use it.”
“That’s not creepy at all.” She tugged the damn thing from her purse and scowled at it.
“Sorry.” He looked chagrined. “You seemed like you could use some company when you left early. I still had some work to finish up, but when I did, I came to see if I could find you. Do you feel like talking about it?”
She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “Don’t take this as an invitation to invade on my privacy anytime, but yeah, I think I could use someone to talk to tonight.”
Robinson nodded and smiled.
“Do you want something to drink?” Courtney asked as a way to delay actually talking about what had made her feel down all evening.
“Some coffee,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t drink that much anymore.”
She waved one of the waiters over and in a minute, he returned with a cup of rich, dark coffee and various small porcelain containers with milk and sugar to be added to taste.
Robinson took neither and smiled as he sipped the beverage.
“That’s some good Joe,” he said and looked impressed.
“It should be.” She laughed. “It doesn’t have a price on the menu.”
“My guess is that doesn’t mean it’s free,” he said. “So…why did you take an early day? I don’t mean to pry or anything, but…well, if you need to talk about something, I’m your guy.”
She smiled sadly. “I…saw how much my dad actually cared about me. He was never that great at being a dad in the traditional sense. All my life, he was a scientist who always put his work first and family life second, but my mother didn’t give a rat’s ass, so he… Well, he did his best, even if it wasn’t that great. But as I look over what he did with the research, I see that while he wasn’t great at showing how much he cared for me the way most dads do, he…still found a way to show it in a way that I can appreciate now, as a scientist.”
Her companion smiled, leaned back in his seat, and placed his cup down on the saucer.
“It must be nice to know that he cared that much about you.”
“I only wish I could have figured it out while he was still alive,” Courtney said and shook her head. “I mean, all the time that I was in the Zoo, all I could think about was how I’d been given the job there because of who my father was. Everything I did was a way to get out of his shadow. I realize it now, but while he might not have been the best father, I wasn’t exactly daughter of the year either, you know?”
Robinson leaned over and squeezed her arm gently.
“I know, I know.” She tried to control the waterworks she’d fought all evening. “Poor little rich girl with her rich girl problems.”
“If it helps, I’m a poor little rich boy with some rich boy problems.”
She laughed and used her napkin to dab the tears away so they wouldn’t ruin her makeup. “Yeah, well… If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that you don’t get mad or sad about something. You get even.”
“That sounds like terrible advice,” he said but his amusement was genuine. “Your father’s?”
“Hell no.” She waved to catch the waiter’s eye and gestured for the check. “A woman by the name of Madigan Kennedy taught me that, and I happen to think that it’s great advice. You don’t get anything when you simply lie around and wish things would get better. You make them better by kicking their ass and making them do your bidding.”
“Well, remember how nice I’ve been to you when you decide to take over the world,” he said as the check arrived. She paid it with a generous tip and smiled in response to the waiter’s gentle nod of thanks as she stood and they both started to the door.
They slipped outside and Courtney’s gaze immediately settled on a black SUV that had been parked around the corner. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see who was inside, but she did note how the engine turned over and the headlights came on the moment that she stepped out of the door. It crept forward slowly as they made their way to the edge of the sidewalk.
Clearly not professionals, she thought as she slowed her pace.
“What’s the matter?” Robinson asked when he noticed her suddenly go tense.
“Nothing,” she lied and noted how the SUV slowed to keep pace with her. He obviously didn’t believe her and his gaze followed hers to the vehicle.
“Should we go back inside?” He looked around. “Call the police?”
“Definitely call the police.” Courtney chuckled grimly. “It’s not like they’ll get here in time, but they always do appreciate a heads-up when they’ll have to process some idiots for attempted assault.”
He tensed, startled by the change that had come over her. Inside, she had looked vulnerable while she struggled to come to terms with her family issues. Now, she talked like she knew a thing or two about violence and the serving of it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know where that came from. Like everyone else in the company, he’d heard how she’d handled some home invaders a couple of days before she took her place in the office, but there was a difference between hearing about it and seeing it in action.
“And go inside?” he asked and gestured with his head to the other restaurants along the street.
“What would be the point?” She gripped his arm and dragged him along, away from the SUV. “They would merely follow us inside, and I’d rather keep the collateral damage to a minimum.”
“What about me?” he asked as they turned into a small alley behind the restaurant that they’d exited from. “Wouldn’t I be collateral damage too?” He quickly dialed nine-one-one and requested that the police come at their earliest convenience.
“These guys are amateurs,” she pointed out and rummaged through her purse. “They were hired to intimidate me, not kill me. I think I’d rather do some intimidating right back.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m intimidated,” Robinson said honestly.
“Come on.” She yanked a small, expandable baton from her purse. “Weren’t you a boxer and into all that mixed martial arts stuff?”
“That’s different from a fight with thugs on the street.”
“Fine. Here.” She handed him a can of pepper spray. “Aim for the eyes.”
He nodded. They were out of time anyway, as the SUV came to a stop in front of the alley and effectively blocked it off from anyone trying to escape as well as anyone who might see what was about to happen. Five men exited the van, which was fine with Courtney. She didn’t intend to run anywhere.
Thick and gnarly-looking, but still amateurs, they seemed little more than gang thugs chosen because they looked intimidating with their baseball bats and brass knuckles. One even swung what looked like a bike chain. From what she could see, they’d not even been recruited from one of the more violent gangs either.
She wondered if she should feel insulted.
Well, no—maybe later when this was over. In these circumstances, five of them would be more than a match, even for her. Whoever had sent these goons had clearly thought that she would be alone. Thankfully, Robinson was there, and that evened the odds a little.
The men looked at their victims and quickly split into two groups. Robinson, the tall, muscular man with the look of a fighter, was targeted by three of them. Clearly, they thought the two remaining goons were enough to handle her.
“Come on, come on,” she mumbled under her breath as the assailants closed on her. She hoped that Robinson could at least handle himself until she had dealt with these two and she could help him, but she needed to focus on resolving her predicament first. Madigan had taught her that.
She pressed the button that extended the baton to its full sixteen-inch length as she took a step closer. Baseball Bat and Brass Knuckles paused, uncertain as to whether they needed to back away or still move forward. She had taken a more aggressive stance than they’d expected.
Yes, she would definitely go with offended, she decided.
Courtney took advantage of their brief moment of hesitation to go on the offensive. She stepped into her swing like Madigan had taught her and hammered the baton across Baseball Bat’s face. Hard stainless steel impacted on bone with a dull crack and the man took a few steps back before he dropped his bat to clutch his face.
She ducked out of the way of a heavy, brass-knuckle enhanced if ill-advised haymaker aimed at her skull before she rapped the weapon across the second man’s knees. He screamed in pain for a moment before she struck him across the head with it.
He dropped without another sound and she smiled. She couldn’t help a little pride at how much her abilities had improved. When she’d first returned, she’d thought that she wouldn’t have any practice now that she would no longer go into the Zoo regularly.
Screams of pain from the other side of the alley reminded her that she wasn’t in this alone. She spun toward the altercation. Robinson straddled the chest of one of the men and hammered his head with his fists while he yelled in frustration. The other two were still on their feet but staggered away and rubbed their eyes.
Her assistant might not be a great street fighter, but he didn’t lack for brains. He’d used the pepper spray first and followed up with his martial arts training on one of the unlucky men. It was a good idea, but it lacked the quality that Madigan had ingrained in her with each of their training sessions, especially since his efforts had degenerated into a rage-driven pounding.
Strike quick, and make it count. None of that ground-and-pound stuff that was so popular in MMA matches.
She closed the distance on the two remaining men, who barely noticed her approach before she rained pain down on them with her baton. Despite the obvious temptation, she managed to avoid headshots. She didn’t need the police to complain about excessive force and swung instead at their knees. They sprawled painfully and their loud protests brought a smile of satisfaction to her face.
“Hey, St. Pierre, knock it off,” Courtney yelled while she made sure that all their new friends were in too much pain to even try to stand for the m
oment.
Robinson looked at her and the crazed look on his face gradually faded away. He breathed heavily and rubbed his sore knuckles. “Right.”
“We don’t need to kill these guys,” she said and helped him back to his feet. “And honestly, it’s really not worth the paperwork.”
“Right,” he repeated, his voice rough from the yelling he’d done.
“Do you need us to call an ambulance too?” she asked and peered at his bruised and bleeding knuckles.
“I…maybe?” He shook his head. His hands shook as the adrenaline began to wear off. He looked around. “Did we really take five muggers down in an alley?”
“Not really.” She chuckled. “For one thing, these assholes aren’t muggers.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Sal said with a shrug.
Madigan didn’t reply immediately. It took a lot of concentration to drive in the heavy suit of armor that she wore, so she took the time to wait until they were over the last dune before she turned to look at him.
“It’s not a trick question,” she said. “How did you get the plant out the first time?”
He shrugged. “We were in the middle of a gunfight with a bunch of bounty hunters, right? I had the crazy idea that if I distracted them, the rest of our team could gun them down. To be honest, I thought I would die right there in the Zoo. When I saw a little baby Pita plant that hadn’t even started to flower yet, I wondered, why the hell not?”
“Well, I didn’t need the psychology behind it,” she said dryly. “I mean, how did you get it out of the fucking Zoo without us being torn to pieces?”
“Well, as you recall, that situation did force us to run for our lives to avoid certain death while your leg was bleeding out.” He focused on the jungle that drew closer and closer with each passing second.
“Yeah, but nothing like when Corvin grabbed one of the plants and started running,” Kennedy said with a chuckle.