Rake: Wolfes of Manhattan Four

by HELEN HARDT

  There was meaning behind those words, but I didn’t for the life of me know what it was. I had to make her think I did, though.

  “Do you?” I asked. “Because the Wolfes do their research as well, Nieves, and I’m pretty sure our resources are far superior to yours.”

  She looked away.

  Good. That got her.

  “What makes you think,” I continued, “that you know anything we don’t know already?”

  “If you knew, why did you question Leta?”

  Good for her. She was smarter than I gave her credit for. “We question everyone,” I said simply.

  She stayed quiet for a few seconds. Nicely done, Reid.

  Finally, “Show me the money.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “A grand. That’s what I’ll offer. It’ll get you home to Montana.”

  “I could get a grand from any high roller here.”

  “Yeah, but you’d have to work for it.”

  Her cheeks reddened. I’d struck a nerve. Yeah, I was being an asshole, but she was being a first-class bitch.

  “A grand,” I said again. “And you don’t have to get on your back.”

  She huffed. “Fine. But if you find the information helpful, I get another nine grand.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t have any cash on me. I have to hit the ATM. Let’s meet for a late lunch at one, and I’ll give you the cash then.”

  “Fine. Then you’ll wait for the info.”

  I nodded. I actually did have a grand on me. Two and some change, actually, from last night’s blackjack winnings. But I wanted to check in with Rock first. He knew Nieves a lot better than I did, and he might have an idea of what she had found at his place. If he did, I could save myself a grand. Not that a grand meant more than a penny to me, but I didn’t particularly want to enrich Nieves Romero.

  “Good enough,” she said. “Text me with the deets.”

  “I will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

  She advanced toward me, gesturing to the door that led to the master bedroom. “Sure you don’t want to…?”

  “Thanks,” I said, “but no. I’ve got a meeting.”

  No lie there. I did have a meeting, but not for an hour. In the meantime, though, I had other things that needed my attention.

  “Your loss.” She walked toward the door. “See you at lunch.”

  9

  Zee

  The nice thing about working nights was that I could sleep in. I’d learned to ignore the sunlight streaming in through my window. Mo, who shared my bedroom, got up earlier, but she didn’t make a lot of noise, so she never woke me.

  Until this morning, when she pounced on my bed and shook me.

  I jerked out of dreamland with a scream.

  “Easy, Zee,” she said. “Where the hell were you?”

  Not an easy question to answer. I could have been anywhere. My dreams were nightmares more often than not, but I never remembered the details. Probably a blessing. I gathered myself quickly. I’d learned to in the past decade.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “What is it? You know I like to sleep in.”

  “I know, but a huge delivery just came for you.”

  “Huh? I’m not expecting anything.”

  “All I know is that it’s here, and your name’s on it.”

  Curiosity won out over sleeping in. I scrambled out of bed and slid my bare feet into slippers. “It’s probably a mistake.”

  Sure enough, two boxes—one large, one small—sat on our tiny table, and both were addressed to me.

  I grabbed a steak knife out of the flatware drawer and cut the small one open first. Inside was a shoebox. “Oh!” I opened it and found my shoes from last night, the heel now repaired.

  “What is it?” Mo asked.

  I lifted out the shoes. “The heel I broke. Reid said he’d have it repaired.”

  “That’s some quick service.”

  “Sure is. I guess money talks.”

  Mo giggled. “If that’s your shoes, what can possibly be in the big one?”

  “Wait,” I said, picking up a note. “It’s handwritten.”

  Good as new. Looking forward to our dinner tonight.

  Reid

  “What’s it say?”

  I handed the note to Mo.

  She scanned it. “Hmm. I’m getting more of those third-wheel vibes.”

  “How?”

  “He says he’s looking forward to his dinner with you.”

  “Yes. It’d be impolite to say he wasn’t looking forward to it. This is a basic note.”

  “I think I shouldn’t join you.”

  “Yes, you should,” I said. “I want you there.”

  The thought of dining alone with Reid Wolfe scared the hell out of me.

  Mo giggled. “If you say so. Now open the big one!”

  I slid the steak knife under the packing tape and flipped the cardboard box open. Inside were packing peanuts, which I hated. They got everywhere!

  They didn’t stop Mo, though. She pawed through the peanuts until our floor looked like snow had fallen and pulled out another shoebox. “Louboutins!”

  “What?”

  She shoved the red box in my face. “Louboutins! In your size! Oh my God.” She pulled out another box. “Prada! And Jimmy Choo!” She waved her hands in front of her face. “This is total shoe porn!”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “What?”

  “Look at these!” She opened the Louboutin box and picked up a cotton bag. “May I?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” My mind had turned numb. What was going on?

  She pulled out a pair of black stiletto pumps. “Gorgeous! And that red sole is to die for!” She threw one to me.

  Oddly, I caught it instinctively.

  “Try these on. They’ll be amazing on you.”

  I regarded the four-inch heel. “They’ll make me six feet tall.”

  “So? They’re spectacular.”

  I slid my feet out of my slippers and into the Louboutins. They were a little tight, but no more so than any new shoe. I wobbled a little, but I’d get used to the skinny heel. I could walk in anything, thanks to my years as a showgirl.

  “Wow,” Mo said. “You already have great legs, but those shoes make them even more amazing!” She continued pawing through the boxes. “There’s at least five grand in shoes here.”

  My eyes shot wide. “Five grand?” I gulped.

  “At least. Probably closer to ten.”

  “Is there a note?” I asked numbly.

  “Looks like… Yeah, here it is.” She handed me an envelope.

  My fingers trembled as I broke the seal and pulled out a note card.

  A few more things for your pretty feet. Enjoy.

  Reid

  I handed the note to Mo.

  “He’s not really a poet, is he?” she said. “Not that it matters with his looks and bucks.”

  My jaw dropped to the floor. I couldn’t accept these. Repairing my second-hand shoes was one thing, but this? The man spent ten grand on my feet, which weren’t even pretty, by the way. They were too big, and my little toes were crooked.

  “I so wish we wore the same size,” Mo was saying, “so I could borrow all of these.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Hello? Earth to Zee?”

  I shook my head to clear it and picked up my jaw from the floor. “I’m sending them back. I can’t keep them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…I don’t even know the guy. And he…”

  He wants me to tell my story.

  That was the truth. Reid Wolfe wanted something from me, and he was trying to buy me.

  Problem was? I wasn’t for sale. At any price.

  Plus, unlike Mo, I didn’t care much about shoes and clothes. Sure, these shoes were beautiful and I’d love to have them, but even if I could afford them, I wouldn’t buy them for myself. One pair, maybe. But five? No way.

  Mo was drooling over the Jimmy Choos
when I walked—still in the Louboutins—to the small kitchenette and shoved a K-cup into the Keurig. Coffee. Coffee would help me see clearly. Right now, my mind was a screwed-up mess.

  The machine whirred as it squeezed out coffee into my favorite mug. I took a cautious sip, making sure I didn’t burn my tongue. Then I walked the few steps back to where Mo was trying on the Jimmy Choos.

  “Too big.” She sighed.

  “Bet you never thought you’d wish for bigger feet.” I couldn’t help a chuckle.

  “I’m only a size smaller than you are,” she said, “and at the moment, you’re right.”

  “You’re a size and a half smaller,” I reminded her.

  “I could stuff the toes.”

  I laughed. “You would. But no deal. They’re going back.”

  She shielded the boxes with her body. “Shh! They’ll hear you!”

  I rolled my eyes as I removed the Louboutins. Oddly, I felt a little sad to take them off and see them go. These shoes probably represented three months of my income, and my feet seemed to feel the loss. I placed them back in their bag and nestled them into the box once more. Then I checked the delivery carton. The return address was Golden Personal Shopping.

  Of course. Reid Wolfe used a personal shopper. Not that I thought for a minute that he’d gone in search of women’s shoes. Still, though, to see the evidence of a personal shopper bummed me out a bit.

  I wasn’t sure why.

  “Sorry, Mo.” I handed her the Jimmy Choo box. “Back they go.”

  “Goodbye, my pretties.” Mo removed the pumps and placed them back in their box. “You’re a meanie,” she said to me.

  “If you want a box of shoes, you can snuggle up to Reid tonight at dinner. I’m sure he’ll be happy to oblige you.”

  “Ha! He’s clearly already smitten with you, if this”—she gestured to what she called shoe porn—“is any indication.”

  Smitten with me? I held back a slight smile at the thought. He wasn’t smitten. He only wanted something.

  Which was why I hated the fact that a small part of me wanted Mo to be right.

  10

  Reid

  A hundred million.

  That was what Wolfe Enterprises would have to pay to get this contract back on track.

  Some meeting.

  I was pissed.

  Really pissed.

  Rock had already flown back to New York, and though he was the CEO, he had given me authority to do whatever was necessary to get things moving as we were already losing millions per day because of contractor issues.

  I could sue.

  Indeed, I wanted to sue, because this contractor had screwed up. Why should we pay the price? But as a businessman, I knew a lawsuit would ultimately cost us more money. Some system, huh?

  My father taught me one thing very early in the game. When you had money, people would constantly try to take advantage of you. The trick was to pay them off if it would ultimately cost you more money in the long term. Then never do business with them again.

  Las Vegas Ace Construction was now on my short list.

  Wolfe Enterprises had a lot of business in Nevada, and after this current project was over? LVA would never get another penny of it.

  Rock had been holding out. He’d been a loner too long. A rebel too long. He didn’t understand that sometimes, it made more sense to pay than to fight.

  He wouldn’t be happy, but I had the authority, and in the end, Wolfe Enterprises would come out on top, and Las Vegas Ace would pay.

  Yeah, the Wolfes had a lot of power.

  I’d watched my old man destroy one business after the other once he’d gotten what he wanted out of them.

  LVA was next on that list.

  “Fuck it all,” Rock said, when I told him the news. The jet was an hour outside New York, and Rock and the others were in flight when I called.

  “You gave me the power.”

  “I did,” he admitted. “It’s a fucking shitload of cash, though, man.”

  “Cash we can well afford, and LVA will get what’s coming to them.”

  Silence for a few seconds, until, “I still can’t quite wrap my head around how much we’re all worth.”

  “I get it. One day, you will, and you’ll see I made the right decision here. There are still some kinks to work out of the deal. I’ll be here for a few more days to make sure it all goes as planned.”

  “Thanks, Reid. This should be your show. Don’t think I ever forget that.”

  “I know.”

  Our father’s snub still stuck in my gut, but he’d taught me another valuable lesson when I was starting out. Don’t ruminate on things you can’t change.

  Good advice, coming from a psycho bastard.

  “So Rock…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Nieves says she has information for us.”

  He scoffed right into my ear through his phone. I could see his face in my mind, green eyes rolling and all.

  “She says she found something at your place that she never told you about.”

  “She’s lying.”

  “Is she? Did you have anything that might indicate your relationship with Dad?”

  “Are you kidding? I tried to never think about the asshole.”

  “Think,” I said. “Did you notice anything missing from your place recently?”

  “Nieves and I broke—” He stopped abruptly.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “She and I broke up a while back, but my gun—the same model that killed Dad—was stolen.”

  Bingo. “You think Nieves might have taken it?”

  “I’m trying to remember. We broke up, but she showed up from time to time. I didn’t think anything of it. We ran in the same circles.”

  “Was she ever alone at your place?”

  “No. Not that I know of, anyway.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Fuck.”

  His tone reeked of defeat. I wasn’t going to like what was coming.

  “She had a key. She gave it back to me after we parted ways, but…”

  “But…she could have had a copy made.”

  “Yeah.”

  What were you thinking? I wanted to demand of my brother. But the fact was, he hadn’t been thinking about Dad at all. He all but admitted he tried never to think of the bastard. Most ex-girlfriends weren’t mercenaries, so he didn’t bother changing his locks.

  Made perfect sense.

  Except we were all fucked now because of his little faux pas.

  “She never had the combination to my gun safe, though,” Rock said.

  “Okay, that’s good. But think. Did you put the gun back in the safe the last time you went to the shooting range?”

  Silence.

  He wasn’t sure.

  Fuck.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Fuck, man. It’s not a no. But the thing is, I just don’t remember.”

  “Shouldn’t you always replace a gun in the safe?”

  “Of course, if you have small children around. Or you fear someone living with you might be suicidal. But I lived alone, Reid. I wasn’t going to blow my own head off, so I didn’t worry about shit like that.”

  My mind raced. “So she could have taken your gun. But we already know your gun wasn’t used to blow Dad’s head off. It was just the same model.”

  “Right, so who cares if she took it?”

  “Well, you should.”

  “I do. She’s a conniving little shrew. But the fact that my gun is missing doesn’t implicate me any further, because it’s not the murder weapon.”

  “No, you’re the only one with a seemingly ironclad alibi.”

  “What do you mean seemingly?”

  “The cops still think you could have had it done.”

  “Why would I do something so stupid as to have it done with a gun that’s a duplicate of mine?”

  “Good point. Honestly, I’m not sure why they haven’t ruled you out. Som
ething’s fishy about all of this.”

  “It has been from the get-go, bro.”

  “I know.”

  “Honestly, Nieves could have taken my gun. Or she could have taken something else that I have no clue about.”

  “I’ll find out at lunch.” I glanced down at my watch. “In fact, I have to go. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I ended the call and shoved my phone in my pocket.

  Time to turn on the charm once more to get what I wanted.

  11

  Zee

  After I got the shoes all packed up and lugged the damned package to the post office—and paid twenty-plus bucks in postage, thank you very much, Reid Wolfe—I headed into work early to have some repair work done on my costume. Several of the opulent beads had come loose during the last show, and that was a recipe for disaster.

  Beads falling off and rolling on the floor while we’re all dancing in stilettos…

  Not good.

  Tonight was a topless night for me. We took turns baring ourselves. That way, we all knew all the dance moves for all the parts and could substitute for anyone with no notice. Revue shows like the one I was in were a dying breed in Las Vegas. Sure, topless shows were available in smaller venues in the city, but our show, Best of Sin City, was one of the last large revues that featured nearly a hundred showgirls. Celebrities like Donny and Marie Osmond and Celine Dion, among others, were taking over the biggest venues and drawing huge crowds, making traditional Vegas shows a thing of the past.

  Consequently, I was lucky to have this gig. Many showgirls weren’t so lucky and had resorted to stripping and lap dancing at local clubs. Each night, I thanked the stars that I had this job. I didn’t know how to do anything else. My childhood foray into acting had proved I was no actress, and my modeling days were long over. My medical career had gone up in dust years ago. I was just too old. Too old, too tired, and too scarred.

  Topless nights no longer bothered me. My scars were well hidden with creative makeup and costuming. Plus, the bright lights on stage made the leering men invisible to me, if they even existed.

  I was, simply, grateful to be alive, even as the wreck I’d become.