by Raven Scott
“You may be the new king of crime or whatever, but that gives you no right to reference Disney.” Smirking at the gruff, totally serious grumble, I only shook my head before Theo caught my gaze. “It’s been twenty-eight minutes.”
“Right on time.” These damn Italians always had a reason to get fancy and waste money. I took the steps up to find several people waiting at the door. Someone to take my coat. Someone to give me wine. Someone to suck my cock and another to feed me grapes off the vine. Wait a minute . . .
I really need that night off tomorrow.
An absolutely enormous chandelier swung from the ceiling, and I ground my teeth at the superficial laughter and fake tits around me. No wonder the Italians were into sex slaving so heavily— they coveted physical beauty and spit on everyone else. Glancing around, I couldn’t identify Illya in the crowd, but I hadn’t hoped to spot her.
Who I did see, however, was Isabel in a sleek, beige cocktail dress that really flattered her figure. My skin crawled under my three-piece suit when her eyes found me, and I made my way towards Diamon— as in ‘diamond’ without a ‘d.’ The irony.
“Carlyle!” Forcing a polite smile onto my face, I grabbed Diamon’s outstretched hand as he practically bellowed to echo off the high ceiling. He and I were about the same age, but the excess of wealth clearly showed on his pretty face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to bother. I know this isn’t your scene.”
“I’m waiting around for the old man to die. Maybe, it’ll be tonight.” A couple laughs surrounded me as a swell of people gravitated towards me, and Diamon grinned unsuspectingly. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Theo tilted his head back with his signature sneer, and a malicious satisfaction rippled up my sternum. “So, how has business been lately?”
“It’s been fine. I’ve had some contention with my father, but I doubt his stubborn ass is going to keep over any time soon.” To her credit, Isabel didn’t push and shove her way over, but her slinking through the dozen or so people around me arguably was better for me. Theo watched her like a hawk, waiting for her to get a little too close, and I nodded as her brother opened his mouth to continue. She stepped over the imaginary line, and Theo stepped between us when she reached for me to grab her wrist and twist.
Isabel’s horrid, shrill shriek almost burst my eardrum, but I didn’t bother containing my wince to hide my smirk. She sunk to the polished floor, holding her broken wrist, and her long, silky black hair fell over her shoulders. For a heavy moment, no one did anything, and I had to admit, if she kept her mouth shut, she was very pretty.
If she kept her mouth shut and her head down, so no one had to see the ugliness of her expression ballooning with self-righteous entitlement.
“How dare you!” Her head snapped up, and Isabel’s mascara streamed down her face even as her lip curled into a nasty snarl. Narrowed, blue eyes focused on Theo, and one of her cronies came rushing over to help her to her feet. Illya appeared out of nowhere and just smacked Theo right in the face, and my brows rose in surprise as Diamon hissed beside me. The ex-Marine seemed to grow, and a fraction of a second slid by on pins and needles as they glared at each other.
“You’re gonna pay for that.” Watching them, knowing they weren’t fighting their anger as everyone else thought, I almost laughed as Illya spat the threat. Her eyelid twitched in agitation, and she turned on her heel to help Isabel to the corner of the room.
I guess . . . it was their party, so the Italians didn’t expect anyone to try anything?
“Go to the car.” Dismissing Theo just as planned, I waved a hand at him, and he frowned darkly. “I’ll deal with you later.”
He whipped around and stalked off, and I turned back to Diamon as Illya walked a crying Isabel out a side door. That bitch’s bitch brother started laughing, and I shook my head at how simple stealing her was turning out to be.
“Man, you’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do that over the years. At least I got to watch.” A cautious look flickered on Diamon’s face, and he gestured me to follow him away from the crowd a little. “To be honest, Carlyle, I didn’t believe for a second that you’d taken my father’s offer, but it did worry me. Why did he offer it in the first place? Why Isabel, when no one can stand her? Why not make a deal for my other whiny little sister that might actually have a chance?”
“I hadn’t thought about it, Diamon. Why do you ask?” Shit, not more layers of intrigue . . .
“You’re obviously aware of what happened with Wren Lockhart. He was one of you. He and Isabel were in ‘love.’” Scoffing uncontrollably, I pursed my lips and clenched my jaw hard even as Diamon rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I know. The point is, ever since he disappeared, Isabel has been whispering in our dad’s ear, trying to get into your operation. I’m pretty sure that’s what Wren’s job was supposed to be, but, obviously . . . ”
“I didn’t know he disappeared? Last I was aware, he was nursing his pride in a stable of million-dollar horses.” Either way, Wren was inconsequential. I didn’t need him, and he’d proven himself to be unreliable at best at covering his tracks. If that desert snake could uncover dirt on him, who knew what else was floating around about him. Nodding firmly, Diamon seemed to think on what to say next, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “What, Diamon?”
“I had heard Isabel talking to someone about him, and how was she supposed to get information about you and your operations now that he was gone. I know my sister and I really, really doubt she’s some mastermind, even if she thinks she is. I tracked the phone number to southern Texas.”
“Texas? What the fuck does Texas have to do with any of this?” Apparently, that snake and I have more to talk about than I thought. Covering my mouth to hide my frown, I nodded gratefully to Diamon, but he was a fucking idiot, extending this kind of olive branch at me. “Give your father my regards. I’m leaving.”
Before he could continue, I turned on my heel and shouldered through people unabashed, and I pulled out my phone to text Theo not to do anything too bad.
This simple killing was now an interrogation, and I didn’t usually get personally involved, but . . .
Isabel messed with— and Diamon trusted— the wrong man.
14
Valerie
“Paul, okay, no offense, but I really have to get going on these designs. I’m working a Saturday, and I have a date tonight, so . . . ” Holding my forehead, I glared at my keyboard, and my supervisor stopped talking just long enough for me to sigh heavily. “I know how to use the software. It was a requirement of being hired.”
“Your last renditions weren’t up to par. I just don’t want you to have to do it again.” Lifting my head, I frowned sourly at my boss for a long second as several pairs of eyes watched us none-too-discreetly. He’d called everyone in on a Saturday for no real reason, and we weren’t paid overtime. This sucks. I have more important things to worry about.
“Why don’t you do my job, then, since you know exactly how to make it turn out the way the client wants.” Standing up from my chair, I grabbed my jean jacket off the back and my purse from under my desk. “I quit. I can’t stand you anymore. All you do is talk, and I’m tired of hearing you.”
“Valerie . . . ” Holding up my hand sharply, I downright glared at Paul, and alarm lengthened his features as I tucked my purse under my arm with a huff.
“No. I don’t need you to tell me I’m wrong all the time about simple things. If they’re so easy, you do it. Good luck. I know how to use Photoshop. I know how to layer images. Let’s see how good you do it since you always have to point out that you’re a Certified Adobe Technician, which, by the way, isn’t a real thing. I checked.” He went a little red in the face around his goatee, and I stepped away from my desk, exhaustion dragging my feet. “Bye.”
I was so beaten down by the past few days, and Paul called after me as I stomped out of the office space and into the stairwell. Breaking my phone had been a mistake, I had a burn on my leg from the coffee, and
I didn’t want to be here, anyway. I hadn’t slept because all I could hear was that ugly Southern twang, and . . .
“Ugh!” My frustration echoed as I stomped down the concrete steps, and I rubbed the butts of my eyes into my eyes. That jerk had called us so late that I couldn’t even put on any makeup, and I felt as horrible as I must’ve looked after twenty minutes of being told how to wrongly do something.
Leaning on the cold wall, I closed my eyes and shuffled to press my back against the blocks, but it did nothing to cool the frustration simmering in my blood. High above me, the stairwell rattled with the shuffling of feet, but I ignored it for the moment to breathe deep, stabilizing breaths.
I apparently couldn’t get laid, and now, I was probably unemployed. This week sucked.
“Valerie, wanna go eat your feelings? It’s on me.” Cracking open my eyes at my sister’s offer, I nodded as she and two other guys came waltzing down the stairs. Natasha smiled at me, but I couldn’t find the energy to return the gesture as she swung her arm over my shoulder. “It’s fine. Paul’s a jerk. It’s a shame because it wouldn’t be a bad job if he wasn’t there.”
“Please, the job would still suck regardless. This wasn’t what I signed up for when I moved here. I found an ad for this place on Craigslist, and they made it seem like this was an app development company that made websites on the side.” Echoing Natasha’s idea from the other day, Marshal shook his head when I glanced over at him. “I wonder what Paul’s gonna tell the owners when he has to explain why three-fourths of his workforce quit.”
“Who cares— let’s just get something to eat right now. Food makes me feel better.” For once, Natasha had a good idea, and we shuffled down the staircase to the ground floor side exit in relative silence. I’d been really angry when I broke my phone, and I hadn’t thought about the consequence, like the fact that I didn’t know Carlyle’s number and couldn’t reach him. We were supposed to go on a date tonight, but now, I had no idea what was going on with that.
“I’m so screwed.” Leaning my head on Natasha’s shoulder, I groaned loudly, and she rubbed my back absently. “What the Hell are we gonna do?”
“I really don’t care right at this moment, Val. I’m just hungry. I’ll feel better after I eat.” My sister nodded more to herself, and a low chuckle accompanied her words from behind us.
“You know, we could always start an app development company ourselves. We’ve got the skills, and now we got the time.” Fred scoffed at that, and I glanced across the road as we hit a crosswalk. “What? It’s a good idea. Apps make a lot of money.”
“You know damned well that we’ll be homeless before we see a single cent, Marshal. Besides, what kind of app would we develop, anyway?”
“Let’s make a horror decisional game.” Groans of foreboding all around, I felt kinda out of the loop for liking that idea, and Fred rolled his eyes out of the corner of my eye. “What! It’s a good idea! It has a direct market—”
“Halloween is in a month and a half, basically. There’s no way we’d get it out in time, and it be good, yo—” Fred’s chastising Marshal fell short when a car pulled up in front of the crosswalk, and confused silence thickened the air. The door popped open, and surprise nearly yanked my brows off my face when Carlyle stepped out. He looked a little haggard, but he still smiled warmly at me to dry my mouth.
“What a coincidence. I was just scouring the city for you, Valerie.” His deep voice wrapped around me wonderfully, and goosebumps pocked my skin as he scanned the people beside me. “You all work together?”
“We did. We just quit. Staged a mass walkout against stupidity and inflated ego.” Carlyle’s expression masked in quizzicality at Natasha’s reply, and my heart fluttered when he reached a strong arm to stroke his jaw. “What’s up with you?”
“As I said, I’ve had a bit of a stressful day myself, and you’re not replying to my texts.” Turning his attention to me, his eyes narrowed as he frowned, and flames licked my cheeks as my heart raced against my sternum. “Do you have a moment?”
“Um . . . yeah.” Taking Carlyle’s hand, I walked a little ways away from my sister and ex-coworkers, and his face drenched in expectation when I faced him. Opening my mouth, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and he squeezed my fingers as I searched for the right thing to say. “Okay . . . so, the basic explanation is my mom called me, and I got really mad and smashed my phone because she just makes me so pissed off. The only time she ever contacts me or Natasha is when she wants money, and this time she wanted a lot of money.”
Well, that could be true or not— I hadn’t stayed on the phone long enough. I assumed that if the debt was enough to warrant calling ‘family,’ it had to be quite substantial. Carlyle didn’t bat an eyelash at my explanation, and embarrassment stained my cheeks at his steady gaze. The quiet became uncomfortable, and I raked my free hand through my hair to get rid of the tingles.
“Okay.” Confusion knit my brows, and Carlyle nodded in acceptance despite the gravity dragging down his features. “So, you and your sister are out of a job now, correct?”
“Yes.” Hanging my head in defeat, I rocked back on my heels to bluster a hot breath as memories of Paul’s stupid ass flooded my inner eye. “That jerk. If he thinks he can do my job better than me, then he should. I don’t like the job enough to put up with him anymore.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be open to a proposal?” Carlyle practically purred the word, and my abdomen twisted as the sound banished all the horribleness of the past two days. Biting my bottom lip, I pulled his hand to my hip, and desire tightened his jaw when I pressed up against him.
“Does it include a sexy maid outfit?”
“I’ll add it to your contract, not your sister’s.” For the first time in a couple days, I smiled, and a breathless giggle escaped me as Carlyle’s fingers crept around my lower back. “Would you mind if I joined you for lunch?”
“It depends on what you want to eat.” The appreciative glimmer in Carlyle’s darkening gaze ignited the fire that’d sparked at dinner the other night, and he rocked back on his heels to hum thoughtfully. “You can make it a light lunch, and you can come over for dinner tonight.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer, Valerie.” Just before grabbing my ass, he pulled back, and I frowned when he stepped away from me to clear his throat roughly. Desire shimmered in his eyes, but he somehow managed to beat it down to open his mouth. “First, I have a proposition for you and Natasha.”
15
Carlyle
My mind whirred along fast, processing this hastily prepared sale’s pitch, and I had to admit, Natasha was doing a pretty good job. I’d driven here, but the four of them opted to walk to get their shit together, and it showed. Leaning back in the circular booth, I cupped my chin as she concluded, and my thoughts pounded against the backs of my eyes.
I didn’t care what they were selling— I was going to buy it anyway. I wanted the points with Valerie, but also . . . they actually had some good ideas for a plan concocted in about six minutes.
“Sure. I’ll do it.” Muted enthusiasm and excitement thickened the atmosphere, and I exhaled through my nose as Natasha practically bounced in the booth. “I expected something like this, given your complaints about your boss at dinner the other night. However, I have one stipulation. You’re now out of a job, Natasha. Write the program for me before you do anything else.”
“I’ll start when I get kicked out tonight.” Nodding at her slippery smirk, I ignored the underlying tone to hold out my hand, and she jumped to shake it. “Thank you for taking a punt on us, Carlyle.”
“I may be paying for it, but whether you succeed or fail is your own decision. We’ll hash out a contract when you’re finished with my program.” Squeezing my palm, Natasha simply nodded again, her eyes sparkling a duller version of Valerie’s, and my gaze flickered to her. She’d had a slice of pizza and then nibbled on the crust for the duration of the lunch, and I pursed my lips against my smirk.
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br /> “Okay, well, I better go let my boyfriend know I won’t be getting paid for a few weeks. Thank you for lunch, sir.” Fred, I thought, shuffled out of the booth, and I tilted my head in acknowledgment before he left the restaurant. The other guy just got up and walked off, maybe sensing he was no longer wanted around, and I propped my elbow on the table to hold my chin on my fist.
“Is your mom the reason you moved here?” Okay, so the issue was more complicated than dropping her phone in the toilet and less complicated than Valerie ignoring me for not sleeping with her. I got that. She slumped in her seat in reply, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “Where did you live before going to college? You two went to different ones, I remember.”
“We grew up in Dallas. I swear, if I ever hear that stupid drawling twang again, I’ll explode. I hate the South. There’s nothing but bigots and racists and wannabe country music stars.” Hiding my alarm, I nodded as Valerie’s tone turned bitter and sharp. Fucking Texas . . . again? I haven’t even started interrogating Isobel yet. “She got in some trouble with a gang while she was in jail when we were in college. When she got out, the only reason she talked to either of us was for money. The call I got the other day, I don’t know, It just made me more angry than usual. She hasn’t called me in over a year.”
“Right.” Shaking Isobel from my mind, I focused instead on Valerie’s cute, although genuinely upset, expression. Reaching to cup her cheek, I brushed my thumb along her smooth skin, and she gulped noticeably against the butt of my palm. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”
“Is there any particular reason you lay it on so thick, and then don’t fool around with me?” The incredibly direct question rose my brows, and Natasha choked on her pizza from across the booth. Valerie’s beautiful, brown eyes glimmered with all seriousness, and I tapped my own cheek absently. “If you’re not gonna screw me, what’s the point?”