“Fine.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “Get yourself killed. That’s really great, Aya. Trust the harpies that you’ve hated for years. Sounds like a solid plan.”
He turned and stormed through the exit, leaving me to tremble with rage in his absence. So much of my life I couldn’t control. I couldn’t control Gideon’s job or the fact that we’d broken up. I couldn’t control the HQ and their plans for me. I couldn’t control the fact that my mother had been kept hostage by a trafficking organization for the past decade. But, there was one thing I might still have a bit of control over.
With renewed courage, I spun on my heels and spotted Trent McAllister on the other side of the room with Mr. Jones. A dinner date didn’t sound so bad, especially if Trent was really willing to listen to my ideas. Maybe he’d even be willing to let me buy into the museum after all. The last spark of my hope refused to be snuffed out in spite of the drama of this week.
Chapter Seven
I stared at myself in the mirror. The strapless royal blue cocktail dress hugged my curves in all the right places, showing off my wings as they rested in tattoo form on my shoulders. Athena’s Jewel was tucked underneath the bust line, the thin golden chain wrapped around my neck.
I’d spent an hour digging through my closet for the perfect outfit; a little flirty and a lot of business. Hopefully, this hit it on the head. If I wanted to schmooze Trent McAllister into letting me buy into the museum tonight, I had to pull out all the stops.
Declaring myself ready, I headed for the living room. Johnny and Angel were hanging out on the couch, browsing through the channels for something to watch. They whistled when I walked in, bringing a flush to my cheeks.
“Hot momma!” Angel stopped the TV on a cooking channel and dropped the remote. “Is this a business meeting or a date?”
I rolled my eyes at her. “You should know better than anyone that I need to look my best tonight. I’m pitching to Trent. I need to impress him.”
“Oh, he’ll be impressed alright.” She leaned back in the couch, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips. “It certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s an insanely sexy rich vampire, does it?”
Johnny moaned and slapped a hand on his forehead. “You’re dating a bloodsucker?”
“I’m not dating him,” I said in a huff. “It’s a business meeting. Besides, Gideon and I just broke up. I’m not ready for all that.”
“Fine.” Johnny raised an eyebrow at me and ran a hand over his smooth bare head. “But just remember, you’re allowed to have a little fun. Sometimes, a rebound is exactly what you need to get over someone.”
With a sigh, I picked up my purse from the table. No matter what my friends said, I wasn’t ready to move on from Gideon yet. Tonight was just about the proposal and the museum. They were the only things keeping me from falling apart at the thought of my impending mission. In my purse were figures and plans I’d outlined during the past couple of months. I had intended to share them with Mr. Jones once I made my bid for partner, but I had chickened out time and time again. I couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by this time.
“Good luck,” Angel said when I headed for the door. “Let us know how it goes.”
I nodded and shut the door behind me. The guilty feeling plaguing me all day wouldn’t leave. Angel and Johnny would kill me if they knew about my secret mission with the HQ, but I didn’t feel good lying to them. Every fiber of my being was bursting to come clean and let them in on the news. But I knew that wouldn’t go so well.
They didn’t know what it was like to think your mother was dead, and then suddenly see her alive and well in a picture. They didn’t know what it was like to be the only hope to rescue your mother. I did. And that’s why I was taking this mission.
Shaking my head, I smoothed my dress and refocused on the notes in my purse. My mission with the HQ didn’t start until tomorrow night, when I would be meeting their contact. Today was all about the museum and the rest of my life. I had to focus if I wanted to give a killer presentation.
A long stretch limo was waiting outside my apartment. I stopped and looked around. No one else was getting into it. Surely it wasn’t for me. That seemed over the top for a business meeting – even if Trent McAllister was a filthy rich business man.
Just as I was thinking about pulling my cellphone out to call Mr. McAllister, the limo’s window rolled down. A handsome pale man leaned out, smiling and flashing his long canine teeth.
“Ms. Harris, would you like to join me?”
I squinted at the vehicle. Sure enough, that was Trent McAllister. He must be used to driving around in style.
With a reluctant sigh, I approached the door. If Gideon were here, he’d probably freak out. This looked like a prom date. All that was missing was a frilly pink dress and corsage. Hopefully, Mr. McAllister hadn’t brought flowers.
“I’m not used to riding in such luxury,” I said, scooting into the back seat.
Mr. McAllister was leaning back casually in the seat next to me, his legs crossed. In his right hand was a glass of champagne. He handed it to me and poured another glass.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m celebrating.” He sipped from the crystal glass, his exquisitely sculpted lips lingering close to the rim. “It’s not every day that you get to invest in a childhood dream.”
The limo driver put the vehicle in drive and took off. I took a huge swallow of the champagne, relishing the way it felt going down. Definitely not the cheap stuff.
“Why did you get involved in the museum?” I put my glass down and opened my purse on my lap. There was no harm in starting the business meeting early. “I have a hard time imagining someone like you having an interest in our little operation.”
He chuckled and threw back his head. “Someone like me? Goodness, what could that even mean?”
A blush came to my cheeks. “I only meant…”
“You only meant vampires or the wealthy or… devastatingly sexy men?”
I tore my eyes from his and glued them to my purse. Maybe if I shut my mouth for two minutes, I could start this thing over.
“Please, I was only teasing you.” He slid a little closer on the black leather seat. “It is a perfectly reasonable question. Let me explain.”
There wasn’t much distance between us anymore. Only a few inches of safe space. If I slid away, he might get offended. Instead, I settled with cautiously looking up at him.
“The museum has been around for years,” he continued. “Before Mr. Jones owned it, a little chap named Wells used to run it. It had half the collection it has now and was in poor repair. Still, I loved that place and its dark corners. I used to visit every day, before I was forced to relocate out of town for business purposes.”
I nodded. Michael Wells was well-known to me. He had authored several of the research books catalogued in our storage room. His mother had been a banshee and his father a human. It was an unfortunate pairing for Mr. Wells during those times. Tensions between humans and supernatural creatures had been at an all-time high. I imagined he had trouble making friends and delved into his work to make up for the loneliness.
Mr. McAllister pulled the open champagne bottle from a tub of ice and poured himself a refill. “Thirty years later, I was glad to return home. When it came to my attention that Mr. Jones was interested in selling the place, I jumped at the opportunity.”
I waved away his attempt to refill my glass and instead pulled out the charts from my purse. “I’m glad to know you’re so fond of the place, Mr. McAllister.”
He grimaced. “Please, call me Trent.”
“Trent,” I repeated. “Because I have a lot of ideas on how to increase traffic, make our displays more interactive, and attract the populace that we’ve been unable to reel in. Namely, the supernatural.”
He smiled at me as if I were telling a joke. “And you’re going to make that happen for me?”
I swallowed hard. There was no point in delaying t
he inevitable theme of our meeting. “Not exactly. I want to make that happen for us. I want partial ownership of the museum.”
He leaned back into his seat, amusement written all over his face. “Ownership? Why would you want that?”
“For the same reason as you.”
Was it so ridiculous to think someone like me could have the same attachments to the place as him? The Museum had been my home and refuge during some of the hardest years of my life. It held a special place in my heart and I wasn’t going to abandon it so easily.
“And you think you can handle owning a business?” His eyes flashed as the limo turned the corner and headlights went past. “Owning a business with me? This isn’t some doll house. It’s an establishment that’s going to take some tough calls to whip into shape. Are you sure you’re ready for something like that?”
My ears buzzed with anger. Who did he think he was?
“Excuse me, but I know more about this business than anyone. I’ve been running it, almost exclusively, for the past three years. No one knows it better.”
In my hands, the charts and notes I’d prepared for tonight crumpled beneath my anger. Despite my fierce response, Trent had the audacity to laugh again. As much as I hated him laughing at me, I had to admit it was a pleasant sound.
“My apologies.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I underestimated you, Aya. It sounds like you might make a wonderful partner.”
Relief flooded through my veins. Now, we’re getting somewhere.
“Good, because I want to show you some specific charts I’ve put together…”
“Wait a second.” He held up a finger. “When I say you’d make a wonderful partner, I don’t mean mine. I don’t work with anyone. That’s my rule. And I’m afraid I can’t break it for you, no matter how much I like your spirit.”
My jaw dropped. “What do you mean? Surely, you can make an exception.”
“Nope.” A grin pulled at the left side of his face. “Never. Business partnerships have always ended in tragedy for me. I won’t make that mistake again.”
I closed my eyes. This was not going the way I had planned.
“Oh cheer up,” he said, drawing my frustrated glare. “I’m going to give you the raise you deserve and you can implement as many of those ideas as you want. It’ll still be like you owned it.”
No, it wouldn’t. Not even close. This was what I had set my sights on for the past year, if not longer. That place belonged to me. I could feel it in my soul. Now, Trent McAllister was going to lock it up and keep me out of the partnership because he didn’t play well with others. Trent could kiss my harpy butt.
“Thank you very much, but I think I’d rather end this business meeting here.” I stuffed the papers back into my purse. So much for that. “I see no point in going to dinner if you’re never going to change your mind.”
Trent frowned. He dropped the cocky attitude and leaned forward. “I hope I haven’t offended you, Aya. I very much like you. You’re different than most girls.”
I huffed. “Right. But not different enough to take a chance on. I see how it is.”
He cocked his head and fixed his smoldering dark eyes on mine. “No, that’s not it. I’d love to take a chance on you.”
His lips were against mine before I had a chance to blink. They were surprisingly hard and soft at the same time. He kissed me with an urgency that my body willingly responded to, drawing heat into my lower belly. I could taste the sweet champagne on his breath, along with the tiniest hint of spice. He ran a hand from my hip to my shoulder where he cradled my cheek.
“Wait.” I pulled away, dizzy from the physical contact. “What are you doing?”
He smiled. “I think the correct term is kissing.”
His smugness was going to get him stabbed in the heart with a stake someday. “I didn’t come here to kiss you.”
Panic was beginning to root in my chest. This had turned into an even worse night than I imagined. Somehow, I’d gone from a business pitch to making out with my new boss. Things couldn’t get worse.
“Pull over.” I rapped on the window to the driver’s seat. “Now!”
“Come on, don’t leave like this.” Trent scrambled out of the car after me. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”
“I don’t think I can trust that promise,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. It was the dress. I knew I should’ve worn something more conservative. It didn’t say business woman like I’d hoped.
“Come on…” He hung back at the limo door as I made a hasty retreat down the darkened street.
“Carry on,” I yelled over my shoulder.
The squeal of the limo driving away was my only sign that Trent had abandoned his pursuit of me. With my purse tucked close to my side, I crossed the street. A line of vacant cabs sat outside a corner hotel. At least I wouldn’t have to walk home.
I thought of Athena’s Jewel bouncing underneath my dress. If tonight was any sign of how my mission would go tomorrow, I was in for a rough week. The only thing I could do now was pray that I would make it out alive.
Chapter Eight
Gideon was standing outside my apartment when I got home, pressing his back against the peeling wallpaper with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The expression on his face reminded me of a young boy pouting when his favorite toy was taken away. His brow was furrowed and his lips pressed together in a stubborn line. If he hadn’t spotted me the moment I entered the hallway, I would’ve turned and ran away.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to see me anymore,” I said with a weary wave of my keys.
How was I supposed to move on if he was always showing up?
“We’re not seeing each other.” He moved away from the wallpaper and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But, I had to talk to you one last time. I can’t let you do this.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead opened the door to let us both into the apartment. The darkness of the living room told me Johnny wasn’t home. He was probably staying late at the office working on his new case. At least, he didn’t have to witness me arguing with Gideon.
“I thought I made myself clear.” I dropped my purse on the table and yanked the heels off my sore feet. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. This is my decision.”
“No, this is the SI’s business.”
Gideon stepped closer, his face only inches from mine. I make a quick step back, putting the table in between us. It wouldn’t do to have his closeness distract me. He wasn’t going to win this argument.
“This is my business,” I said with a shake of my head. “My mother, my harpy relatives, my business. They say I’m the only one that can get in to rescue her.”
“Then, at least let me help.”
He took a step forward and I mirrored it with a step back.
“No. I have to do this myself.”
“Says who?” He ran a hand over his head. “Why can’t I pull SI resources to look into this? You don’t need to put yourself in danger.”
In the time since I’d returned from HQ headquarters, I’d already run that question through my head a million different ways. If the harpies couldn’t reach my mother even with their powers and magic and endless supply of resources, then neither could the SI. I was the only way.
“The HQ has already tried to infiltrate this business dozens of times. I’m the only one they don’t know, and I’m the only one my mother will trust. It’s not an option.”
Gideon huffed through his clenched teeth and closed his fists tight at his sides. “Then you leave me no other choice.”
He closed the distance between us in a flash. With one hand, he clasped a silver pair of handcuffs on my right wrist, and with the other, he dragged me into my bedroom. I struggled against his grip as he threw me on the bed and straddled my waist, pinning me down. In the blink of an eye, he wove the handcuffs through the headboard of my bed and cuffed my left wrist.
“You’re going to stay here,” he
said between heavy breaths. “No secret missions, no harpies, no nothing. You’d be safe.”
I wriggled underneath his weight, grunting at the bite of the metal against my wrists. “Let me go, Gideon. This isn’t funny.”
“I know it’s not,” he said, his breath tickling my ear. “And I’m not letting you go until you agree to stay put.”
I stopped struggling and glared into his eyes. Only two weeks ago, I’d joked about using his handcuffs for a similar position, but this wasn’t what I had in mind. Still, the heat of his body against mine made me quiver with a combination of rage and need. As much as I wanted him to release me, the short distance between our lips made me want him even more.
“Let. Me. Go.”
The burning need in my stomach was making it hard to talk. So I glared at him instead, daring him to leave me this way.
“Not a chance.”
His lips parted and he ran his eyes along my face and down to my lips. My chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as I waited for him to say or do something more. He could say screw the SI. He could throw caution to the wind and take me right there and then. He could even chew me out some more. It didn’t matter, as long as he was here, inches away from me.
He was about to speak when his phone beeped in his pocket, and the spell broke. His brow furrowed as he read the text and then hopped off the bed, leaving me feeling like I’d been drenched in cold water.
“I have to run,” he said, tucking his phone back in his pocket. “Remember that girl you saved from the manticore the other day? She’s got to testify against him, but she’s resisting. It’s the last thing I have to do before I can fully take over your brother’s case.”
I swallowed the disappointed lump in my throat. “That’s great. Now, can you let me go?”
He pressed his lips together and cocked his head. “No. You’re not going anywhere without me.”
The muscles in my jaw tensed as I fought against the urge to scream at him. Tonight was the meeting with Matt Rue. If I missed it, who knew when I’d have another chance to infiltrate Caro’s operation?
Athena's Jewel: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Aya Harris Collection Book 2) Page 6