Liv sat down at her small kitchen table and turned on her laptop. She’d lied when she’d told Thea she’d already done this, and she had officially put this off too long. She needed to crunch some numbers. She logged into her bank account and did some quick math.
After ten minutes of holding her breath, Liv realized she had enough in savings to last three months without a paycheck. Would it take that long to find another job? Would she be able to find another job? And if she did, would it be in Nashville? She didn’t want to leave. Thea and Gavin and their twins were there. And Rosie was basically a grandmother to her.
What if Royce really did try to ruin her in the restaurant scene? Now that she’d seen him in action, he knew she was a threat to him, so he probably would make good on his threat to make sure she never got another job. A man who would sexually harass an employee would think nothing of ruining someone’s career to protect his dirty little secret.
If it even was much of a secret. How many women had he done this to? How many women had he harassed or fired to cover it up? How many people had helped him?
Part of her wanted to scream it’s not fair! But nothing in her life had been very fair, and whining about it hadn’t ever done much for her.
Maybe she was being stupid. Maybe she should just give in and take Thea up on her offer and open her own damn restaurant and be thankful that her sister was willing to get her started. But money had a way of changing things between people. It had a way of corrupting. She didn’t want that hanging between her and her sister. Thea was too important to her.
When Rosie knocked on the door, Liv jumped up and let her in. Rosie walked in balancing a tray. “Brought you an omelet and some toast.”
Liv stretched her arms over her head. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Rosie set it on the table and then pointed a finger at Liv. “Now you listen to me. I know you, so I know you’re sitting here worried about how you’re going to pay your rent and all that shit, so just stop. I don’t care about that.”
“Rosie, I can’t live here rent-free.”
“You can if I say you can.”
Liv swallowed against a surge of emotion.
“All I want you to do is decide what you’re going to do about that bastard and to protect that girl,” Rosie said.
“I don’t think she wants my protection.”
“Then you’ll just have to convince her, won’t you?”
Liv wandered to the window to stare at the farmland outside. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Get her out of there, Livvie. Whatever it takes, just get her out of there.”
CHAPTER SIX
Two days later, Liv pulled her Jeep into an open parking space along the curb in front of the ToeBeans Cat Café, the coffee shop and bakery owned by her friend Alexis.
Alexis was the only person on Earth who hated Royce as much as Liv, which was probably why they’d bonded so quickly during the brief time when they’d worked at Savoy together.
Alexis had been there for almost two years when Liv started, but she’d left within a couple of months to care for her sick mom. She and Liv remained friends, though, and after her mom passed away, Liv helped her pursue her lifelong dream of opening her own place—a dream they both shared.
Judging by the line of people waiting to order when Liv walked in, business was good. Of course, it was Tuesday, and Tuesdays were always busy for Alexis, because that was the day when a local cat rescue brought in cats and kittens who were looking for homes. Alexis had a soft spot for lost things and lonely creatures.
Which was another reason she was the only logical person for Liv to turn to for help. She’d never turn Jessica away. If Alexis agreed to hire her, then Jessica would have no reason to stay at Savoy.
Liv sidestepped the back of the line. Alexis spotted her and lifted her hand in an enthusiastic wave, sending the knot of curls on top of her head into a bouncy dance. She spread her fingers wide and mouthed, Five minutes?
Liv pointed to the swinging door that led the kitchen. Alexis nodded and returned her attention to the customer in front of her. The small kitchen was bright and clean, with white subway tiles along the walls and open shelves displaying plates and bowls in rainbow colors. A single cook maneuvered feverishly between a grill and a stainless-steel counter where he assembled plates of sandwiches, salads, and pastries. He barely spared Liv a glance when she walked in. She understood. When the heat was literally on in the kitchen, there was no time for politeness.
Liv ducked out of his way and wandered to the back, where a tray of fresh scones was cooling on top of a range. They smelled like a cozy Saturday morning and a warm blanket. Liv’s stomach grumbled instinctively.
“Lemon and lavender,” Alexis explained, coming up behind her. “I’m not sure if the flavor is right yet, though. Will you taste one and let me know what you think?”
Liv picked one up and took a bite. The pastry melted on her tongue. “It’s perfect,” she breathed, wiping a crumb off her lip.
Alexis smiled in relief. “You’re sure? This is my fourth attempt.”
Liv took another bite and nodded. “Definitely put this on the menu.”
“If they have your stamp of approval, then it’s done.” Alexis untied her apron and hung it on a hook by the tiny office in the back corner. “Can you sit for a few minutes? Are you on your way to work or something? How’s Riya? You have to tell me about the plans for the cookbook release. Is Royce driving everyone crazy?”
Liv tried to keep up with Alexis’s typically frenetic rapid-fire questions as her friend opened the door to her office.
“Come on in—Beefcake, no!” An orange cat the size of a small toddler tried to escape through the narrow opening of the door. Liv shoved her leg in the way just in time to block him and earned a glare that said Beefcake would definitely try to kill her later. Another cat—a tabby named Howler—darted beneath Alexis’s desk before peeking back out with his own evil glare.
“I keep them in my office on Tuesdays,” Alexis explained, gesturing for Liv to sit down. She shut the door. “They hate the strange cats.”
Howler and Beefcake were rescues who lived in the café full-time to charm the patrons in between adoption events and, apparently, to plot murdery stuff at night.
Alexis dropped into the creaky chair behind her desk. She let out a dramatic sigh and let her head fall back against the top of the chair. “My entire body hurts. I’m only thirty. How can I hurt this much at thirty?”
“Because you’re on your feet all day and never sleep.”
“You know me too well.” Alexis lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
Liv swallowed away the sour taste of nerves and guilt. Alexis was a new business owner, probably barely turning a profit. She hated to put her on the spot, but she had to get Jessica away from Royce. “I need to ask you for a favor.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“I need you to hire someone.”
Alexis tilted her head. “Like, someone specific?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Alexis said slowly. “Who?”
“A young woman named Jessica. She works at Savoy.”
Alexis’s face went blank for the briefest of moments. But with a rapid blink, the moment passed. “And you need me to hire her because . . . ?”
Liv let out a long breath. “Something sort of happened.”
Alexis sat up straighter. “What kind of something?”
Five minutes later, the entire story hung in the air between them like a rancid smell, the kind that would whip in from the back-alley dumpsters whenever the busboys would go out for a smoke on a hot night. Alexis’s expression was the same too—pinched and nauseated.
A deep swallow tightened the cords of Alexis’s throat. “What are you . . . what are you going to do?
”
Liv shrugged. “Whatever I can to help Jessica and stop Royce.”
Alexis did the rapid-blink thing again. “What do you mean, stop Royce?”
“Stop him from doing this again. There’s no way Jessica is the only woman he has done this to, but she’s going to be the last.”
Alexis shot to her feet and threw open the door. Beefcake and Howler saw their chance to escape, but Alexis either didn’t notice or didn’t care when they skittered between her legs into freedom. Liv hovered in the doorway of the office, mouth agape as she watched Alexis grab a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. Alexis wasn’t much of a drinker. Never had been. But when she returned to the office, poured a single shot, and threw it back, Liv felt the dual smack of shock and realization. “You’re not surprised to hear this, are you?”
Alexis filled both glasses this time and handed one to Liv. “Royce has always had a reputation.”
“A reputation?”
Alexis stared at the second shot but then pushed it away.
“You knew he was like this?”
Alexis sat down again.
“And it never occurred to you to tell me?”
Alexis winced. “I wish I could hire Jessica, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m barely squeaking by as it is with the staff I already have.”
“She probably doesn’t get paid very much as it is. Maybe she could just start—”
“I can’t, Liv. I’m sorry.” Her sharp tone left no room for argument.
Liv wanted to be pissed, but had no right to be. It was a long shot from the start. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot.”
“What about you?” Alexis asked.
“I’ll find something.”
“The Parkway Hotel is looking for kitchen staff. I know the head chef there. I could call him tomorrow.”
Liv nodded absently. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
“How are you for money in the meantime?”
If anyone else had asked the question, Liv would have bristled at the bluntness, but this was Alexis. Practical and steadfast. A wise old aunt in the body of a thirty-year-old. “I have enough in savings for a few months.”
“I’m sure Rosie will give you a break on rent and bills.”
“She already does.”
Alexis reached across her desk and squeezed Liv’s arm. “I’m sorry, Liv. I know how disappointing this must be for you after how hard you’ve worked.”
“I’ll survive.” It was the story of her life. She’d learned quickly as a child how to adapt to new circumstances. You learned a lot of lessons when you grew up with two warring parents who were too busy trying to one-up each other to notice that with every argument, every custody hearing, every petty slight, they were yanking the rug out from beneath their daughters’ feet. She’d survived worse. She would survive this.
“Maybe this is a sign,” Alexis said after a pause.
“Of?”
“You’ve proven yourself. You’re talented and ambitious. Why don’t you just take a loan from your sister and—”
Liv felt her jaw tighten. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Just because I know rich people doesn’t mean I can treat them like an ATM. Money ruins relationships. Trust me, I know.”
Alexis winced. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t understand what that’s like.”
Dammit. Liv shook her head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. I’m just—” She let out a frustrated noise, interrupting her words. “Nothing pisses me off more than injustice.”
“I know. That’s why I love you. But I need you to promise me something.”
Liv lifted her eyebrows.
Alexis’s eyes darkened. “Be careful. Royce is more powerful than you know.”
“I’m not afraid of Royce Preston. He’s a bumbling idiot. He literally got caught because he can’t tell time.”
Alexis ignored the joke. “He’ll destroy you.”
“Not if I destroy him first.”
“You really believe you can, don’t you?”
“What I believe is that I don’t have a choice. I can’t walk away knowing what he’s doing and has probably done a hundred times before. I can’t let someone else walk into that kitchen knowing he’s a predator. If I have to bring down his entire stupid empire, I will.”
Alexis stood and peered down at Liv through beseeching eyes. “Please don’t do anything rash. I know what you’re like, and—”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you sometimes act without thinking.”
Liv allowed herself a moment of wounded pride before sputtering, “Am I supposed to stand by and let him get away with this?”
“Just promise me you’ll think about the consequences before you go after Royce.”
Liv stood so she was eye to eye with Alexis. “I’m going to stop him from hurting other women. Those are the only consequences I care about.”
“They shouldn’t be. Other people could get hurt. Think of how many people could lose their jobs if you bring down his empire.”
Liv shook her head, disappointment and confusion a strange cocktail in her veins. “I don’t get this. I figured you of all people would be on my side.”
“I am on your side.”
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m more worried about Jessica.”
Alexis’s sigh carried weary resignation. “What exactly are you planning to do?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll think of something.”
Alexis worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Will you keep me posted?”
“I will.”
A young woman in a ToeBeans T-shirt knocked on the door and stuck her head in. “Beefcake just stole someone’s muffin and tried to pee on a kitten.”
“I’ll go,” Liv said quickly. “You should probably deal with that.”
Alexis’s smile seemed forced as she rounded her small desk for a quick hug. “I’ll keep my eyes open for jobs,” she said with a squeeze.
Liv ducked out the back way and walked around the block to her car. But rather than drive away, she sat in the front seat for several long minutes, staring at nothing as she worked out her next move. You sometimes act without thinking. Maybe Alexis hadn’t meant to, but that one had struck a tender spot. Liv had worked her ass off to overcome the transgressions of her wild youth. And though her precious Gran Gran hadn’t lived long enough to see Liv finish culinary school, Liv liked to imagine that the old lady was still up there somewhere feeling proud that she’d managed to set Liv on a better path before it was too late. Liv wouldn’t have gotten her shit together in time to graduate from high school without Gran Gran’s help. And Thea’s, of course.
But could someone ever really feel like they’d made up for the mistakes of their past? Would Liv? Could she ever do enough to be worth all the trouble?
Liv shoved the key in the ignition and waited for a break in traffic to pull out. She wouldn’t go down without a fight. Royce couldn’t get away with this. But before she could deal with him, she had to get Jessica out of there. And if Alexis couldn’t hire her, Liv knew at least one person who could.
Braden-Fucking-Mack.
* * *
* * *
Temple Club was supposedly one of Nashville’s swankiest dance clubs, but in the middle of the afternoon, it was just a dark, empty tomb with the odor of stale beer and lost hope that hung over every bar on the strip. Liv’s boots clunked across the distressed wooden floor when she walked in.
“We open at four,” a woman at the bar said without even looking up. She had a jagged purple haircut and an attitude that Liv would’ve admired in other circumstances.
Liv
approached the bar. “I’m Liv. I’m looking for Mack.”
“He’s not here.” The woman still hadn’t looked at her.
“Where is he?” Liv asked, parking herself on a barstool.
The woman looked up, one pierced eyebrow arched over vibrant green eyeshadow. “Not here and none of your business.”
“See, it is kind of my business because I need to talk to him.”
“You and every other woman in Nashville. Take a number.”
Liv faked a gag. “Stop. I have a sensitive stomach.”
The woman suddenly grinned. “What’d you say your name was?”
“Tell him it’s Olivia.”
The woman picked up a phone and punched a couple of buttons. A moment passed before she spoke. “It’s Sonia. There’s some woman here named Olivia who says—”
There was a pause, a quick okay, and then Sonia hung up. “He’ll be here in twenty minutes. You can wait in his office.”
Liv slid off her stool to follow Sonia down a hallway behind the bar.
“So who are you?” Sonia asked, looking back over her shoulder.
“Huh?”
“Mack doesn’t do this—let random women sit in his office. So you must be someone.”
“He got me fired last weekend. I’m here for revenge.”
“Can I watch?”
“I’ll even let you help.”
Sonia opened the door to a back office and waved her arm for Liv to go inside. Liv sank into Mack’s desk chair and kicked her feet up on the surprisingly tidy surface.
Sonia grinned. “His file cabinet is color-coded. Sometimes when I’m mad at him, I mix them all up.”
Liv laid her hand over her heart. “Can we be best friends?”
“Yep.”
As soon as Sonia left, Liv leaned back in the chair and studied the office. The decor was spare but professional. A couple of file cabinets lined one wall beneath a framed black-and-white photo of what was probably Temple before it became Temple. The only personal touch in the room was a line of photos tacked to a fabric pinboard beneath the prefab cabinets that matched the desk.
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