“You got more than anybody else did.” He shook his head. “You actually saw the notes. I can see the notes, too. Well, forensic whispers of them. As if I know something was once there that isn’t any longer.” He sighed.
“Means he slipped up,” I guessed.
Easton nodded. “It does.”
Easton crossed his arms over his perfectly-pressed dress shirt, then stared down at his boots.
He was dressed as you’d expect an FBI agent to dress, but you could tell that he actually took pride in what he was wearing. The shirt he had on didn’t come from Target. No, the way it fit him screamed ‘custom made.’
The only reason I knew that was that I had a few of those same shirts myself for when I used to go have dinner with my ex-wife’s family.
The governor would have had a conniption if I’d shown up in anything less than perfectly-tailored, pressed dress shirts.
“What else do you need from me?” I asked, trying my hardest not to think about my ex.
Because when I thought about my ex, I thought about my…
“Do you want to grab a bite to eat?” he asked. “I can go over what I have. It’s nice to have someone to pick your brain with. Plus, I don’t know any of the places here.”
I nodded once at his suggestion, thankful that he’d gotten my mind off of that particular one-way track to hell.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “We can go to the donut shop on Main Street. There’re not only donuts there, though. There’s a lot of food selections, even healthy ones.”
Easton nodded. “Sounds perfect. Let’s go.”
So we did.
And it also didn’t slip my mind that I heard Jubilee mention the place to Turner yesterday at lunch.
It also didn’t slip my mind that I was likely doing myself an injustice.
I didn’t do well with rich bitches.
In fact, I had half a heart to prove it.
Chapter 4
I’d be a terrible superhero. I’d see the signal in the sky and think, “I literally just sat down.”
-Text from Turner to Jubilee
Turner
“Who’s the hottie in the suit next to Castiel?”
My head snapped up to stare at said ‘hottie,’ but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Castiel long enough to see the ‘hottie.’
“Where?” I asked, almost on auto-pilot.
“Over there,” Jubilee gestured with her chin in Castiel’s direction. “Right next to him.”
I finally tore my eyes away from Castiel for them to land on the man, and she was right. He was hot.
Tall, dark and handsome with an air of refined menace about him? He was definitely hot as hell.
But my eyes drifted back to the man that’d been dominating my dreams lately.
The man that pissed me off to no end and I still couldn’t stop myself from staring at and dreaming about.
“Holy shit, they’re coming this way,” Jubilee whispered. “Castiel’s looking at you like he doesn’t like you again.”
I snorted.
“He came over and apologized for insinuating that I was fat,” I explained. “Then he left pissed off all over again at something only he knows about. I didn’t even say a word to him.”
“Hmm,” Jubilee sniffed. “I don’t know much about that man. I mean, he’s good friends with Zee, but he doesn’t share all that much. I mean, I know a lot about the other members, but Castiel? It’s like he’s a closed book.”
I shrugged. “Well, he can be a closed book all he wants as long as he stays on his shelf, and I stay on mine.”
Because there wasn’t any way in hell I was going to let him see inside my book, so to speak.
But instead of stopping at our table to even offer a hello, he only nodded at Jubilee and kept going.
Which was just fine…wasn’t it?
I wasn’t offended that he didn’t stop to make eye contact with me…right?
“I’m getting a refill,” I said. “Do you want any?”
She looked at my glass that just so happened to be full.
“What, you’re going to put a small little dollop in it?” she teased.
I grimaced. “I need more ice, thank you very much.”
And I did.
Kind of.
When I got up to the drink fountain, I poured out half of my unsweet tea and filled it all the way back up with ice. Once I had that accomplished, I added a splash more tea and then put a lid on it for good measure.
It was when I was carefully peeling back a straw that Castiel’s smooth, deep voice said with amusement, “Are you going to dilly dally all day, darlin’?”
My hand tightened on the drink I was carrying, and the lid popped off while half of my newly-refilled tea spilled out onto the metal counter.
I gritted my teeth and then unclenched my hand, automatically reaching for the paper napkins that were in a dispenser just past where the straws were residing.
All the while I took my time, not rushing because I didn’t want the man behind me to know that he affected me in any way.
I felt him move behind me, and then another empty cup was held out in front of my face.
I reached up and took it, thankful that I hadn’t had to turn around and go get one.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
He snorted. “I guess it was kind of my fault that you broke yours.”
Then he was squeezing in between the wall and me, reaching halfway across my body to get to the ice machine.
I took a step back, causing him to lift his brows up at me with laughter. “I’m not contagious.”
I shrugged. “I don’t like being touched.”
Lies.
I didn’t like being crowded by a man that was so beautiful and sexy that it hurt.
I also didn’t like the way he made me feel—needy with a chance of I’m going to be wet all day now.
Hell, I didn’t even get this level of wetness when I worked!
So I waited patiently for him to get his drink—sweet tea—and then move out of the way.
Once he was gone, I finished cleaning up my mess, then took my time walking back to the table where Jubilee was happily eating the rest of her food.
I sat down, glanced longingly at the burger that would’ve made me happy once upon a time, and then took a few more bites of my salad.
“Did you hear that they recalled romaine lettuce?” Jubilee asked as she took a bite of her burger.
“Yes,” I said. “I also only have regular lettuce in here, as well as spinach. Did you not notice how they had that huge sign on the salad bar that said that there was no contaminated romaine lettuce?”
She shook her head.
“No,” she admitted. “But I also didn’t go near the salad bar.”
“Why do they have a salad bar at the donut place?” I asked curiously. “And why call it a donut place at all?”
She shrugged. “There’s donuts here. Plus, there are really good breakfast sandwiches.”
That was true. But still, I thought it was weird.
Not that it’d stop me from coming here.
I loved this place.
Not only was there a plethora of good food for the healthy to eat but there was also a massive spread of unhealthy food, too. So a person at any stage, dieting or eating like normal, could come in here and eat happily, any way that they wanted to.
The name of the restaurant was actually called ‘The Donut Place’ and had been called that for as long as I could remember.
“Ummm,” Jubilee said. “Are you okay?”
I looked up to find her not staring at me, but at the woman across the aisle from me.
She was staring at me like she knew me.
“I swear to God,” she squinted. “You look like someone I know.”
I looked at her Bobby Labonte t-shirt and her Dale Earnhardt Jr. ball cap and grinned.
“I get that a lot,” I tol
d her honestly. “But I’m nobody special.”
I hadn’t raced in quite a few years, but the die-hard NASCAR fans still knew me, thanks to my father and who he happened to be. They followed my very short career in racing, which hadn’t been a thing in quite a long time.
Castiel’s man date made a scoffing sound, and I looked up and over two rows back to see him staring at me.
“Huh,” the woman said. “Well, then I’m sorry. But I swear, you’re the spitting image of someone I know. I just can’t place them.”
I smiled and turned away, my eyes once again going to the man that was rolling his eyes.
I narrowed my eyes at him and gave him a look.
His eyebrows rose.
“I can see that you’re liked by everybody,” Castiel drawled, his leg stretched out in front of him, encroaching on the aisle. “Glad it’s not just me.”
I turned away, embarrassed now.
“I need to get to work,” I sighed. “I have to get Mrs. Glascow finished, and Mr. Editberg started.”
Jubilee shoved what was left of her burger into her mouth and started nodding.
“I need to go with you,” she said. “I’m leaving my car here for Zee to pick up later. He said that it’s easier for him to get into this parking lot to get it, though, since it’s on one of his colleague’s way home. If you don’t mind, I’m going to catch a ride with you.”
I shrugged and stood up, too, very aware of the men at our back.
I was also aware that I was in leggings and a t-shirt that barely covered my ass, and I was wearing granny panties because I was on my period.
A period that made my life a living hell for six days out of every month, and I liked to be comfortable if I had to be cramping.
“I need to grab a donut to go,” she said. “Can I meet you at the car?”
I nodded and walked to the door, my cup of tea in one hand, and my palm going to the glass of the door.
My body hit the door, though, and then the glass of tea exploded everywhere, causing me to jump back and curse.
That was when I saw the door said ‘pull’ and not ‘push.’
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I looked down at my soaking wet gray t-shirt, then at the black leggings that had almost become transparent.
I then closed my eyes and counted to ten, trying to decide if I had enough time to get home, change, then get back to work and get those two jobs done before heading back home for my appointment at two.
“Uhh,” I heard from my back. “Do you need help?”
I turned over my shoulder to see a hesitant teenage girl staring at me with sympathy all over her face.
My eyes went over her shoulder to see that I had the attention of every single occupant of The Donut Place.
My face flamed, and I shook my head. “Um, nope. Sorry for the mess.”
She shrugged. “It happens more than you’d think.”
I just bet it did.
Taking one last look over the girl’s shoulder at one occupant, in particular, I saw that he was grinning.
Which only served to piss me off even more.
He could just kiss my ass!
Shit!
“Have a good one,” I muttered as I walked out the door, this time paying attention to the sign and pulling instead of pushing.
By the time Jubilee joined me at my car, she was staring at me warily.
“I have a pair of sweats in my car I can get for you,” she offered.
I scoffed. “I’d be able to fit an arm into your sweatpants. My legs ain’t happenin’.”
She rolled her eyes.
“So you’re just going to stay wet?” she asked.
I shrugged. “It’ll be okay.”
It wasn’t okay.
A few hours later, I was frozen solid from being in the cooler room with the dead bodies. I was also sticky, pissed off, and not wanting to deal with my agent who I knew was going to call me at any moment.
Yet, I did it anyway because that was what happened when you were an adult. You did things you didn’t want to do.
However, I did have time after arriving home to change out of my still wet clothes and into a pair of sweatpants before he called.
And by the time that he finally got around to getting ahold of me, twenty minutes late, I was kicked back in my living room chair, computer in hand, and waiting not-so-patiently.
My phone finally rang, and I picked it up on the first ring.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Turner, baby. How are you?” Jeb drawled.
I gritted my teeth. “I’m well, how about you, Jeb?”
“Good, good,” he said. “How are you doing on the most recent movie? Anything you need from me? Suggestions?”
He started to laugh at his inappropriate joke, and I rolled my eyes.
“No, thank you,” I told him honestly. “I’m doing just fine. But thank you for thinking of me.”
Lies.
I wasn’t thankful for him at all.
Unfortunately, he’d come with my job.
I was a porn caption writer for BrazenTube, the number one porn site in the world.
I wasn’t really sure how I ended up with the job, but I loved it.
It paid well, let me work my own hours, and let me pick up what work that I wanted.
“Oh, darlin’,” Jeb said teasingly. “Thinking of you is never a problem on my end.”
I made a gagging sound that I quickly covered up disguised as a cough.
“You sound sick,” he said.
I wrinkled my nose.
“Just a little tickle in my throat,” I lied. “Was there anything else that you wanted to talk about today?”
“Yes. There was a new series that asked for you on their job specifically,” he said without preamble. “I’m forwarding over the details to you directly. Though I have no doubt that you’ll take the job.”
I didn’t know about that.
I was quite particular about what jobs I did and didn’t take.
Such as the animal porn ones. Those I didn’t do, even if the man was dressed up like a horse, and not an actual horse.
There was only so much that I could do and stomach.
I waited on pins and needles as the email arrived, and when I saw that it was just a normal porn with a man and a woman—and no, they weren’t brother and sister or anything, because I fucking checked—I agreed to do it.
“Why did they specifically request me?” I questioned, confused as to why anyone would request me over any of the other subtitle writers in the business.
“No idea,” he said. “I asked that, too. He said that you made an impression on the last video that you did for him.”
I shrugged. “Okay. When does this one need to be done by? I have about four ahead of him.”
“He has a two-week timetable before he’d like it to go live,” he answered. “He also offered a bonus if you’d record yourself live while writing the subtitles. I told him you wouldn’t do it, but he wanted me to offer you the opportunity just in case you decided to say yes.”
I immediately shook my head.
The reason that I was okay with doing this job was because it paid well, and I could maintain my anonymity.
But, I was a curious person by nature.
“How much is the bonus?” I questioned.
“Five grand,” he answered.
I nearly choked.
“The entire movie will be a grand. Why would he offer me five grand, five times the original payment, to get me to record myself while I did the subtitles? I don’t even talk when I do the subtitles!” I cried out.
“That’s what I said, and asked,” he admitted. “I told him that you wore sweats and a sweatshirt, too, so it wouldn’t even give him a good blooper at the end.” He paused. “That’s what he wants it for, though. He’s known for his bloopers. They play at the end of the video, and everyone gets a good laugh out
of it. His following has blown up because of them.”
I was purely amazed, though I wouldn’t be doing the recording.
“Well, tell him thank you for the generous offer, but no thank you,” I said.
“I already told him you’d say that. I told him you were a rich bitch that didn’t need that money, but he didn’t care. He wanted me to ask you. I had a feeling he would’ve doubled that price if he’d have thought he’d get you.”
That made me shiver a little bit.
Why would it be that important to him?
And why must Jeb always call me a ‘rich bitch?’
I wasn’t a rich bitch…technically.
Yet.
I was twenty-five, and my ‘fortune’ as Jeb liked to call it was in the form of a trust fund that wouldn’t be mine until I was twenty-eight. If I got married and had a child before then—which most definitely wouldn’t be happening because people had to be attracted to you to actually want to sleep with you to produce said child—then it’d be mine the day that I gave birth.
Mostly I paid my own bills and paved my own way through life.
Every once in a while, my father would give me something—like my RV—that he no longer needed or wanted.
Another example was my Chevrolet truck. It was pretty, shiny, and brand freakin’ new. I’m talking, so new that even the dealerships didn’t have these bad boys out yet.
Yet here I was, sporting a truck that everybody oohed and ahhhed over.
Though, admittedly, it was pretty.
I’d gotten it the week of ‘the incident,’ a day after Castiel had commented on my brand-new car and how I was driving it too fast. Then he’d seen me in the brand-new truck a few days later, and his face had taken on a look of what one would say ‘sucking on lemons.’
And why the hell was I thinking about Castiel?
Again?
“Anyway,” Jeb said. “Get this job done. I’d suggest moving it up first on your list. Maybe he’ll still give you a bonus.”
I rolled my eyes.
The only reason Jeb wanted a bonus was because he wanted a cut of said bonus.
He got five percent of every cent I made since he was the one that found me the jobs.
“Whatever,” I said. “I’m almost done with one. I’ll work on that one next.”
“Good,” he said. “And if you do decide to record yourself, let me know. I’d be happy to record it for you.”
Keep It Classy Page 3