For “most vile human being ever created,” Rob Tucker had just secured the number one spot.
“This glare isn’t an act. Me about to push you away isn’t an act.” Using my free hand, I gave his chest a hard shove. “Me about to get in my car and run you over if you don’t get out of my way isn’t an act. And me being undecided about whether I want you to bend me over and take me for anyone to see isn’t an act.” Giving him one more shove, I broke free of his hold and slipped into the driver’s seat. Right before I slammed the door, I glanced at him. “So? Are you getting out of my way, or is my bumper going to have to help you with that?”
His expression went from infuriated to amused. “I sincerely hope you’re as feisty in bed as you are out of it.”
“No, Rob. You sincerely hope you get to find out.” Slipping my sunglasses back over my eyes, I slammed the door, started the car, and reversed out of my parking spot so quickly, I left a little rubber behind. When I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw Rob watching me speed out of the dealership with that same crooked smile on his face. I slammed my palm into the steering wheel a few times and screamed a few dirty words.
As far as Greets go, that one wasn’t ideal. I’d let my emotions get in the way of my job. I’d let the Target get to me. I’d let him ruffle my feathers. Whether it was him asserting physical power over me after barely saying hello or that smirk of superiority he wore like a badge of honor, Rob Tucker had most definitely shaken me.
The whole goal of the Greet was to serve as a gateway to future encounters. I’d all but threatened to run him over, and that didn’t parlay into a ripe environment for wanting to see me again. If I’d said and done the same things to another Target, I would have as good as failed the Errand . . . but something about Rob Tucker led me to believe standing up to him might serve as a kind of catnip. I couldn’t say for sure, and if I told G how the Greet had gone, her head would start revolving, but I had a feeling that instead of permanently alienating Mr. Tucker, I’d permanently ensnared him.
Either way, if he didn’t find me like I guessed he’d try, I had to find some way to work my way back into his good graces. The job wasn’t just another Errand; it was more like a mission. A woman’s life depended on me doing my job correctly and succinctly.
I wouldn’t fail her. No matter the cost.
I HAD A bruise “bangle” on my wrist from Mr. Tucker’s grip yesterday. I wasn’t a person who bruised easily, either.
After returning to the hotel to regroup and figure out where to take that mess of a Greet, I decided I’d wait two days for Rob to come to me. Even though I hadn’t told him my phone number or where I was staying or anything other than my name, I didn’t doubt a man as well connected and ambitious as he was could find out anything he wanted to.
If he didn’t come find me, it would be back to the drawing board until I’d worked out a plan to get the Errand closed. Two days. That was all the time I could afford before I’d have to go after him. I only had five days before I had to be back in California.
My schedule was getting out of control, and I had the lack of energy to prove it.
In an effort to bolster my energy stores, I wandered down to the hotel lounge and ordered an extra cherries cherry Coke while I went through Henry’s file for the three thousandth time. I was looking for something I couldn’t find. I wanted something to pop up that would explain everything. I was searching for the vice that would remind me of the kind of person I was dealing with on the Callahan Errand.
By the time I was almost finished my second soda, I still hadn’t found anything. I’d thumbed through the file start-to-finish for the second time that night. I groaned and resisted the urge to punch something. As far as files went, Henry’s was pristine. Mrs. Callahan’s notes held no hint that Henry was the kind of husband who deserved to be taken to the bank and smeared by a messy divorce. There. Was. Nothing.
Other than what he’d done to me. That the one piece of evidence I had against Henry Callahan was what he’d done to me years before he’d even met Mrs. Callahan put me in a sticky spot. Especially since my traitor self emerged from time to time and pretended that nothing had changed between Henry and me.
If I didn’t keep that image of Henry in bed with another woman while I had his engagement ring on my finger, the Errand would continue being exceedingly difficult. If I didn’t separate myself from the man who seemed impossible to dislike, the Errand would turn into a disaster.
I was just looking up to catch the bartender’s attention when someone practically stumbled into my view. It had only been a day—I could have sighed with relief. But then I noticed his stumbling was paired with glazed-over eyes and a flushed face, and relief became the last thing I felt. Alcohol paired with a man like Rob Tucker was like lighting a stick of dynamite.
“There’s my girl,” he said as he bumped into the chair across from me.
Trying to be casual yet quick, I shoved the Callahan file back together and stuffed it into my briefcase. Once it was locked, I composed my face and took a deep breath before looking at Rob. I’d been anticipating him finding me, but that was the second time a Target had stumbled upon me while I was studying an Errand file. Even though he was at least a few drinks away from comatose, it still made me feel like some Eve rookie.
“I thought I made it pretty clear yesterday that I’m no one’s ‘girl,’” I replied, crossing my legs and leaning back. Thankfully, I’d worn something appropriate to the lounge instead of my tank and yoga pants.
Rob grabbed the chair in front of him, pulled it out, and sat. He barely kept from falling out of it, though. “And I thought I made it clear that whatever I want, I get.” He pointed his empty drink glass at me, almost in accusation. “I want you. So that makes you my girl.”
I wanted to shake my head so badly. “You had trouble with that whole sharing concept in preschool, didn’t you?”
“No. The other kids had trouble with my concept of sharing perhaps, but I had no trouble with that.”
Spoken like a true narcissist. “Because you took what you wanted whenever you wanted it. Here you are, forty years later, trying to do the same to a young woman you don’t know anything about other than her first name and that she likes fast, expensive cars.”
Rob leaned across the table. “I know more about you than that. A whole bunch more.” He wasn’t quite slurring, which was a good sign. Well, a better sign.
“Like?” Catching the bartender’s attention, I lifted my glass. I was definitely going to need a third one.
“Like that you’re so hot for me, your panties would need changing if you wore any.” A lazy smile that made me want to gag moved onto his face.
“And because you think you know that about me, you assume you know everything there is to know?”
Rob drained the last drop from his glass before slamming it down. “Everything I want and need to know.”
Why did every conversation I had with him feel like some great challenge not to dry heave? Never mind. Rhetorical question.
“How did you find me?” I asked, thanking the bartender with a nod when she dropped my fresh cherry Coke in front of me.
“I can find anyone I want, whenever I want. This is my city. I own it.” As the bartender passed him, Rob grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. The dude was all kinds of physical with all kinds of women. “Be a sweetheart and bring me two whiskey sours.”
“Two?” The bartender glared at his hand wrapped around her arm. “Don’t you think you’ve already had two too many?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Rob shook his head once. “And it’s not your job to think. A girl’s thoughts are never rational or worth verbalizing. So why don’t you smile pretty, nod, and serve me my drinks like your gender was created to do?”
Wow. Okay, so there was a nastier monster hiding inside of Rob Tucker than I’d guessed. Nothing like a few too many drinks to bring out that monster.
Whipping her arm out of his hold, the bartender gave me a
look that said she thought I was crazy for being the woman sitting across from him. I answered with a shrug—I was crazy. That came with the job.
“So you found me because you own this town. Got it. But explain to me why you wanted to find me so badly.” I took a sip of my fresh Coke, keeping my calm and collected act strong. I wouldn’t buckle under my emotions like I had yesterday.
“Me and you.” He waved his finger between us. “We’ve got unfinished business.”
I didn’t need to clarify what that unfinished business was—it was pretty damn clear what he was talking about.
“And until we finish this business, you’re going to pop up in every lounge I visit?”
Rob reached across the table for my hand, wrist, or arm. I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t wait to find out. I slid my hand off the table and folded my arm into my lap.
He said, “I’ll be in every lounge, around every corner, down every sidewalk, and every shadow you feel behind you until you quit this whole hard-to-get act and give in to what we both want.”
“You’re doing all of this for sex? Searching all of Tampa for me, trying to intimidate me in a bar, threatening to stalk me day in and day out . . . all because you want to get laid?” I shoved my chair back a bit, needing to put more distance between us.
“That’s part of it.” He glanced back at the bar, raising his empty glass and waving it about. If the bartender could flip him off with her eyes, she just had.
“And what’s the other part of it?” I asked.
Rob smiled crookedly. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Someone call the clever police because we’ve got a bright one here.
“Listen, Rob, let me return the favor and be frank.” I leveled my eyes with his and reminded myself he was the Errand first, the enemy second. After I finished the Errand, he could move into the number one enemy spot. “I’m good with doing the casual thing. In fact, I prefer the casual thing because I’m a busy woman who doesn’t have time for the mundane and tedious components of a relationship. Yes, I’m attracted to you, and I know you’re attracted to me.”
His eyes managed to go another shade of smug.
I continued, “But just because I don’t play by plenty of the rules doesn’t mean I don’t have any. If you want to give this casual thing between us a chance, you need to stop acting like an overbearing, chest-beating gorilla. You’re going to have to stop acting like you hold the power of where we go from here in your hands because, Rob”—I arched an eyebrow—“I’m the one who holds that power. So why don’t you cut the act, and let’s see where we can go from here?”
I took a deep breath. As a rule, I liked keeping my replies to my Targets short and succinct, but something about Rob Tucker made me verbally vomit. Not that he’d remember a single thing I’d said in the morning . . .
“Yeah, here’s what I heard.” He lifted his hand and made a talking motion. “Blah, blah, blah. I’m stupid. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t know what the hell I want. Blah, blah, blah. Why don’t you just shut me up and show me what I want.”
Boiling blood. One wouldn’t think it could happen so instantly.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back with something I both would and wouldn’t regret. I also had to sit on both of my hands to keep from punching him.
“How about I tell you frankly what you’re really thinking?” Rob leaned so far across the table I smelled the alcohol rolling off of his breath. “You’re thinking you want to keep up this strong-girl act because that’s what Sufferance, bra-burning, and decades of ‘supposed’ gender equality has conditioned you to think. But that’s not how you really feel. None of you women really feel that way because deep down inside of you, in those little strands of DNA, you were all created to serve, and be second, and give obedience like your lives depend on it. And because so many of you bitches have gotten away with ‘equality’ for years, that genetic code is begging to be punished for your disobedience. The core of what makes you what you are won’t be appeased until you’re back in your proper place.” He didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch. He gave no indication that he didn’t believe wholeheartedly in what he was saying.
My stomach twisted before bile crept up my throat. Of all the Targets I’d dealt with, Rob Tucker was on a plane all by himself. Really, I couldn’t imagine the devil being so evil. I mean, at least he didn’t discriminate who got to hang out with him in hell.
I rose from my chair, grabbed my briefcase, and looked down at him. “I’m going now. I think there’s more than enough of you to keep yourself company.”
Rob’s hand whipped out again, faster than I’d guessed a drunk man could move. His powerful grip circled the same wrist, and my bruise pulsed with pain. “I wouldn’t recommend turning your back on me. You started this thing. You damn well better finish it,” he said.
I had to take two full breaths before I could reply. “Consider this, right here, me finishing this thing.” Lifting my other hand, I waved my middle finger at him then pulled my wrist free. It took some serious pulling, but the instant he let go, I marched for the exit of the lounge.
He didn’t call after me. He didn’t scream, holler, and threaten. That Rob Tucker let me go silently and without a fight was disarming. So disarming, I checked over my shoulder every few steps in my journey to the elevator, making sure he wasn’t hustling up behind me.
I’d never dropped an Errand, but I didn’t see how I could keep that one. Rob Tucker was clearly a dangerous man. We Eves dealt with deceitful men, but dangerous ones weren’t part of the deal. G had made it crystal clear from the start that if we ever found ourselves in a situation with a Target where we feared for our personal safety, we were to pull the plug. At that point, I wasn’t only fearful for my personal safety—I was fearful for my life.
No one deserved to be in the kind of relationship Mrs. Tucker was, but how much farther could I take it before Rob became violent with me? How much longer was I willing to take that risk? I’d taken self-defense classes, and I carried a mini collection of weapons in my purse, but no amount of skill or measure of defense could guard against a person like Rob Tucker. He wasn’t only violent—he was cunning. Violence alone was a red flag the size of the Pacific, but violence matched with intelligence was the deadliest combination known to humankind.
I knew if I called G to talk it over with her, there’d be no back and forth. She’d order me to drop the case and get back to California. She didn’t want any of her Eves in a compromising situation, let alone the one working her coveted Ten. The majority of our domestic violence Targets kept their violence within their home. To date, I’d never heard of one raising his hand to an Eve . . . yet I was one misstep away from being laid out by Rob Tucker’s backhand.
So I was at an impasse. I couldn’t just give up the Errand and wash my hands of Mrs. Tucker, yet if I kept pursuing Mr. Tucker, I was playing with fire. The kind that would literally burn me. Maybe I could hire some kind of body guard. One that hid in the shadows and only made themselves known when and if the occasion called for it . . . but that seemed like a far cry from an ideal solution.
Whatever my decision, I’d have to make it by morning because time was one of the few luxuries we weren’t allowed. Which meant I’d be getting very little sleep as I deliberated how to proceed. Good thing I’d just showed two and a half cherry Cokes how it’s done.
Speaking of . . .
Before stepping inside the elevator and heading to the top floor, I detoured to the little convenience shop in the lobby. Not that I needed any more liquid calories, but I could never get enough caffeine. Besides, I could run it all off on the treadmill in the hotel gym in the morning. After paying for another soda, a bottle of water, and a pair of nail clippers because I couldn’t seem to find the ones I kept in my toiletry bag, I trudged for the elevator. The lobby was quiet, probably because it was close to midnight.
After sliding my card key into the elevator, I punched the top floor and lea
ned into the wall. While the penthouses in Tampa weren’t as swanky as the ones in Seattle, my room was spacious and quiet. There was only one other penthouse, and I doubted if anyone had occupied it since I checked in.
Right as the elevator doors whooshed open, my phone chimed. One of my phones chimed. I carried close to half a dozen when I worked dual Errands. However, I knew the ring right away. I might have only heard it a couple of times, but it had somehow been committed to memory that quickly. It was my Callahan Industries phone, and to my knowledge, only one person had that number. Damn that smile that had slipped into place before I’d caught it . . .
“What are you doing calling me this late?” I greeted, trying to sound stern, as I stepped off the elevator.
Of course, Henry chuckled. “How is nine at night late for you?”
Great, Eve. Way to go. The first words out of your mouth are already a mistake. Henry didn’t know I was on the East Coast and that it was just past midnight. He thought I was in California.
“Well, it’s later than where you are,” was my So there comeback.
“Technically, it isn’t . . . since Seoul is eleven hours ahead of you.”
I heard the smile in his voice, which made me imagine it, which made my own form. Again. Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT.
“Could you tone your know-it-all down every once in a while for god’s sakes? It’s annoying.” Stopping in front of my room, I set my bag of goodies on the floor to get the door open.
“You’re already reprimanding me, and we haven’t even exchanged a proper greeting.”
I rolled my eyes and went to insert my card key into the door. “Hi, Henry.” I used as syrupy a voice as I could muster.
Great Exploitations (Trouble in Tampa) Page 5