She tried and failed several times to avoid staring at them, so she finally just gave up and studied them. They were obviously family. They all looked like Mack—dark hair, big smiles, same eyes.
“Comfortable?”
Liv danced her feet along the desk to swivel the chair around. Mack stood in the doorway wearing jeans and a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He leaned against the wood frame with his arms crossed, smiling like a man who knew he was good-looking and was used to getting his way because of it.
Liv rolled her eyes. “You practice that pose in the mirror?”
He winked. “Every day.”
“Your office is clean.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I figured you the type for an overflowing trash can and dirty coffee cups.”
“Then you figured wrong.” He pulled away from the door and walked inside, pointing at the photos. “That’s my family.”
She shrugged.
“You’re not even curious?”
“Not really,” she lied.
He moved closer to her and started rattling off names. “That’s my brother, Liam. His wife, Allison. Their two kids. They’re pretty much the cutest kids on the planet.” He pointed to the last picture. “And that’s my mom.”
Liv would’ve known that even if Mack hadn’t pointed it out. He had the same dark hair, golden-brown eyes, and long lashes as the woman in the picture. Not that Liv had spent any time studying Mack’s eyes or the length of his lashes. They were just obvious, like the plumes of a peacock. A person could admire the beauty of the bird while hating its aggressive mating behavior.
Liv crossed her legs at the ankles. “Your manager thought I was some girl you’re stringing along.”
He chuckled. “She has no filter.”
“I know. I like her.”
Mack sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. “So do I. She’s been with me since I opened my first club.”
“Poor thing.”
“I’ve gotten used to the attitude.”
“I was talking about her.”
He winked again. “Give it time. You’ll start to like me. Everyone does.”
“Only if you have Chinese food to replace the leftovers you ate.”
“Damn, you still salty about that?”
“I take food very seriously.”
“Gavin said I could eat them,” he defended.
“They weren’t his to give away.”
“Is that why you don’t like me? Because I ate your lo mein?”
“No. I don’t like you because you spend more on hair products than I do.”
“It takes a lot of work to look this good, honey.”
“Exactly. No woman could ever compete with that. I bet you have a mirror in every room of your house and practice smiling into them.”
“Don’t you?”
She snorted.
“So you seriously don’t like me?”
She gave him another side-eye. “You say that like it actually surprises you.”
At his silence, she stared, incredulous. “It does surprise you.”
He shrugged. “Everybody likes me.” He hooked an ankle over the opposite knee. “I take it you changed your mind about the job?”
Liv dropped her feet to the floor. “Yes, but not for me.”
He squinted, sending a spray of minuscule crinkles around his eyes. “Not sure I follow.”
“If you really have openings—”
“I do.”
“—then I need you to hire a girl named Jessica. She’s a hostess at Savoy, and I need to get her out.”
“Why?”
“Because I do. That should be enough.”
He shrugged again. “It’s not.”
“Well, I can’t tell you why. But you said you wanted to fix this.” She pointed at him. “Those were your exact words, and this is how you can fix it.”
“How does hiring someone else fix your getting fired?”
“I’m not asking you to fix that. I’m asking you to help a young woman get out of a bad situation.”
It might have just been her imagination, but Liv could’ve sworn that a vein popped along his jaw. “What kind of bad situation?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Then I can’t help you.”
She gave him a blank stare. “It’s a bad situation.”
Mack stood abruptly, walked to the door, and swung it shut. When he turned back, he adopted a bouncer’s stance and a stern expression. “How bad?”
“Really, really bad.”
“Does this have something to do with you getting fired?”
“Does that matter?”
“It does if you want me to hire this girl.”
“You have openings. I know someone who needs a job. The details shouldn’t make a difference.”
“Humor me.”
* * *
* * *
It took her five minutes to get the entire story out, but it took all of one for Mack’s blood pressure to rise and his vision to blur. He couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. He jerked his hands through his hair and forced himself to sit down in the chair opposite his desk.
That sonuvabitch. He was going to destroy him. He was going to tear the motherfucker apart.
“Did he—” Mack had trouble getting the words past the thick swell of I will fuck someone up that was blocking his vocal chords. “Did he ever do that to you?”
“No,” Liv said, hesitating for a split second. “But I don’t think this was the first time he’s done it. He was way too confident about it and way too unconcerned about being caught.”
“We have to do something,” Mack rasped.
Liv gave him a look. “We aren’t going to do anything.”
“He can’t get away with this.”
“I don’t plan on letting him, but the only thing I need you to do is to hire Jessica.”
He needed water. Rage was turning his throat to sandpaper.
Liv stood up. “I’ll be in touch. And if you could please not tell Gavin or Thea about any of this until I figure out how to do it, that would be great.”
She walked toward the door, threw it open, and breezed through. Holy shit. How many times was this woman going to walk out on him?
Mack leaped up and followed her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. Where are you going?”
Sonia, who was sitting at her cubicle outside his office, swiveled in her chair and watched the drama with unabashed amusement. Yeah, yeah, so he’d never literally chased after a woman before. Big fucking deal.
Mack gripped Liv’s elbow and tugged her back to keep their conversation private. Liv sighed, exasperation written across her face. “What?”
“What the hell did that mean?”
“Which part?”
“The part about making the bastard pay.”
She gave him a duh look. “It means what it means. I’m going to expose him and ruin the bastard.”
“By yourself?”
Liv shrugged. “Why not?”
“You can’t do this by yourself. If he really does have a history of this, then he knows how to hide it. How exactly do you think you’re going to expose him? You can’t just go to the media and tell them what you saw and heard.”
“That’s not my plan, but thanks for treating me like an idiot.”
“What is your plan, then?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet, but I will. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Mack said, feeling his equilibrium return for the first time. Because, of this, he was absolutely certain. Men who abused women deserved to pay. He didn’t care what it took. If Royce Preston was preying on women, Mack was going to stop him. “I want in.”
Liv snorted.
“You want in.”
“I’m going to try not to be insulted by that noise, but yes. If Preston is a predator, I want him exposed too.”
Liv gave him a look that screamed skepticism and distrust. She folded her arms over her chest and leaned on one hip. “You sure about that? Because I saw you with him that night at Savoy. All buddy-buddy, let’s get together. You guys are pals. You expect me to believe you didn’t know about this?”
“No, I didn’t know about this. Jesus.” Mack dragged his hands over his hair. Was that really what she thought of him? That he would cover for a sexual harasser?
“Well, someone had to know. Men like him always have enablers.”
“Well, I wasn’t one of them. I barely know the man.”
“And what if you had heard that? Would you have done anything?”
“Yes, goddammit. I would have.”
Liv tilted her head and studied him as if trying to decide whether she believed him. He noticed for the first time how much she looked like her sister. They had the same eyes. The same coloring. But Liv had a wariness about her he’d never seen in Thea. She looked like someone who desperately wanted to trust people but didn’t know how.
And he suddenly desperately wanted her to trust him. “You know you can’t do this alone, Liv. Don’t be stubborn.”
“You want to help? Fine. Give Jessica a job. I need to get her out of there.”
“Done. I’ll hire her today. How do I contact her?”
Liv blinked. “I—I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He matched her skeptical tone from earlier.
“It’s not like we were friends,” she said, spreading her hands wide. “I don’t have her phone number, her social media is all set to private, and it’s not like I can go talk to her at work.”
Mack thumbed the screen of his phone. “What’s her last name?”
“Summers.”
Mack typed the name into a Google search bar and added “Nashville” to filter out the results.
Liv squinted. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Yes, I’m serious.”
“You’re going to offer her a job.”
“I just said that, didn’t I?”
His Google search turned up about two million results. Liv let out a heavy breath and shook her head. “You really think I didn’t try that already?”
When he didn’t respond, she rolled her eyes so hard he could almost hear it. “I’ll let you know when I get in touch with her,” she said.
This time, when she walked away, Mack let her. Because even if Liv didn’t know how to find the girl, Mack knew someone who could.
Mack shoved his phone back in his pocket and dug out his keys. He passed Sonia at her cubicle. She looked up. “What the hell was that all about?”
He ducked the question. “I’ll explain later.”
Sonia shrugged and said something sarcastic under her breath. Mack walked through the kitchen and out the back entrance into the alley behind the bar where he’d parked his car.
He drove across town quickly, making a phone call as he went.
It was just before four when he pulled into the meeting spot—a three-story brick rectangle with the name Dagnabit’s painted in fading green letters on front above the door. It looked like the kind of place where the whiskey was cheap and the cooks didn’t wash their hands. Which made it the perfect place for meetings like this.
Mack walked up the weedy, cracked sidewalk and pulled open the door. It creaked as if offended. Inside the lights were dim and the TV was loud. The place was nearly empty except for a pair of biker dudes who leaned heavily on the bar over half-finished pints of beer, their eyes glued to the baseball game on the TV. Neither glanced his way. Two seats away from them sat a man with stringy hair and a phlegmy cough who looked like he was one minute away from losing his shit and screaming about the CIA.
Mack chose a spot safely in the middle and ordered a beer.
Five minutes later, the door creaked again, and Noah Logan walked in. He had his hands shoved in the pockets of a beaten-up leather jacket and a skullcap tugged low across his forehead. By all outward appearances, he was your average, everyday computer IT specialist. Mack suspected it was a cover for some kind of super–secret agent thing. No one could be that smart and deceptively well built without working for the government on the down low. Mack had hired him several years ago to help set up his network security but realized rather quickly that Noah’s skills went far beyond the standard, and he’d been essential in helping Mack with another sensitive project that had earned him a permanent spot on Mack’s most-trusted list.
“Dude,” Noah said, claiming the stool next to Mack. “What’s the big emergency?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Mack dropped a five on the counter and stood. “Let’s take a walk.”
“We just fucking got here,” Noah complained.
Ten minutes later, he was no longer complaining. Noah slowed his steps and shook his head. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “I knew there was something sleazy about that guy. What do you want me to do?”
“To start? I just need you to find Jessica for me. Liv can’t approach her at Savoy, obviously. See if you can find out where she’ll be when she’s not at work or home.”
“What else?”
“I need to find out how many women he has done this to.”
Noah looked skeptical. “I’ll see what I can find, but I need to know right up front how deep you want me to look.”
“How deep can you look?”
Noah’s face went eerily calm. “Pretty fucking deep.”
“Send me a bill,” Mack said, walking away. “Quietly.”
“No charge,” Noah called behind him.
Mack spun around. “What?”
Noah seemed to grow several inches in height. “Fuckers like Royce Preston deserve whatever they have coming to them. This one is pro bono.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sunset turned the horizon orange Wednesday night as Mack exited the freeway and followed the GPS directions out of the city. Gavin hadn’t been kidding. Liv lived on a farm. And not the hipster co-op kind either. This was a farm farm, with pastures and sheep—wait, no, those were goats—and a massive red barn surrounded by other smaller outbuildings. And smack in the middle, atop a small hill, was a soaring white clapboard house with a stone fence that looked like it had been erected sometime during Reconstruction.
Mack turned into the gravel driveway, drove under a canopy of trees, and slowed to a stop by a detached garage. A staircase wrapped around one side of the building and led to what he assumed was an upstairs of some kind. A single window overlooked the driveway.
Mack parked next to a dusty Ford pickup and behind a black Jeep with a faded, peeling bumper sticker that read, “A Woman Needs a Man like a Fish Needs a Bicycle.” Yeah, he was definitely in the right place.
But what the hell? Why did Liv live here?
Mack killed the engine, opened his door, and reached for the bag of Chinese takeout he’d brought as a peace offering. He’d barely slept last night. There was no way he was going to sit on the sidelines while Liv took on Royce by herself. He just had to convince her to let him help.
He slid from the driver’s seat . . . and that’s when he was attacked.
The beast came out of nowhere. Mack heard an angry squawk, saw a puff of black-and-red feathers, and felt a chunk of his shin rip beneath his jeans before he could even register what the hell was happening. The beast flew several feet in the air and kicked its legs out. Talons tore into his skin again. Mack threw himself back into the front seat and slammed the door shut just in time, but the beast simply attacked his car with a screeching cry of vengeance.
Then, suddenly a savior appeared at the top of the
garage stairs. She wore floppy rubber boots and carried a broom in one hand.
“You lost?” she yelled.
A clunk against his door made him wince. The fucking thing was going to scratch his car. Mack banged his fist against his window. “What the fuck is that thing?”
Liv held a hand to her ear in the universal I can’t hear you gesture.
Mack rolled down his window. “What the hell is that?” he yelled.
She snorted. “It’s a rooster, dumbass.”
“It’s fucking possessed!”
She shrugged. “Roosters are extremely territorial.”
“It attacked me!”
“They’re also excellent judges of character.”
“Get rid of it so I can get out. We need to talk.”
“If you’re trying to incentivize me, you have failed.”
He held the bag of Chinese food out the window. “Pork lo mein and wonton soup.”
One eyebrow rose. “From where?”
Christ on a cracker. “Jade Dynasty.”
“Fine.” Liv clomped down the stairs and turned the broom on the bird. “Get. Go on.”
The bird puffed up his feathers and went after the broom. Liv swore at him and swept him all the way to the fence line before locking him inside a chain-link gate.
She returned then to the driver’s side. “There. You’re totally safe. Now hand over my food.”
Mack held the bag out the window. Liv snatched it from his fingers, peeked inside, shut it again. “Thanks. You can leave now.”
“Nope.” He opened the door. “We have stuff to talk about.”
“No, we don’t.”
“I’m going to help you with Royce.”
“I’m pretty sure I made myself clear yesterday.”
Mack got out and shut the door. “If you didn’t want me to help bring him down, you shouldn’t have told me what he was doing.”
“God, you’re like an annoying chin hair that grows back no matter how many times you pluck it. You rip the bastard out, and then ploop, two days later, there it is again.”
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