Page 17 of Playing Hard to Get

Frankie’s hand landed on the table in front of me as I prepared to launch myself out of my seat. I stilled, my knuckles white, hands wrapped tight around the arms of my chair. Carrington scrawled his name on the paper and flipped the folder shut. He pushed the folder across the table at Frankie and pocketed the pen.

Anger rippled across Frankie’s face, subtle, hidden behind that mask of nice. She took a deep breath through her nose and lifted her chin.

“There’s still the matter of payment.” Her tight voice didn’t faze him.

Carrington pulled out his phone and started typing away. “I'll have funds transferred in an hour. Now,” he looked up and smirked at Frankie, “California, tonight. Who can you provide for me?”

A roll of her shoulders shook off the storm building under her skin. “As I said, Mr. Saunders is one of our best. I’ve put my own life in his hands.”

Carrington huffed and turned his attention to me for the first time since he shook my hand. A barely suppressed scowl crossed his face as he took in my dark blue dress shirt, the rumpled sleeves I pulled down to cover the tattoos on my arms. His gaze slid to my throat, lingering on the black swirls beneath my jaw. He didn't meet my eyes.

“Well.” Carrington nodded at Frankie and stood. “I’ll have Anna email over her itinerary. Are we done here? I have an important meeting across town.”

Frankie stood and accepted the limp-wristed handshake our new client offered. “Let me show you out.”

The minute he was out of sight, I rolled my shoulders and dragged my hands down my face. I drained the rest of my coffee, then eyed the liquor cabinet tucked into the bookshelf across the room. When Frankie returned, she caught my gaze and laughed.

“Need a drink?”

“Might need an AA meeting if Ms. Carrington is as bad as Daddy Dearest.”

Frankie frowned and crossed back to the table. “I don't like him, Mitch. But he’s offering a lot of money, comes with good references—”

“Good?”

“Ha! Yeah, I know. Makes me question everything I’ve ever been told by them now.” Frankie grabbed my hand off the armrest and squeezed my fingers. “You be careful. I mean it.”

I nodded and squeezed back. “Always am, darlin’. Always am.”

* * *

Anna Carrington was a little spitfire and a spoiled brat. Thought she knew everything and wasn't afraid to tell you. It was obvious her rich daddy gave her everything she could ever want. Though she was a pretty woman, there wasn’t a single thing about her that compared to Vivian beyond her riches. Where Vivian was strong and in control, knew what she wanted and worked hard for it, Anna knew what she wanted and expected it to be given to her. I’d known her all of eight hours and already I’d seen all the layers there were to the woman.

Anna pushed into the dark entrance of the club without waiting for me. The bouncer tried to halt me, but the glare I gave him set him straight. I pushed through the knot at the door, standing on tiptoes to find my charge. I spotted her across the room, making her way into the VIP section. Should have known she’d wind up there. In her mind, Anna was the most important person in the world.

I ran into more issues when I got to the rope blocking the rich from the rest of the world. The bouncer looked a lot like Lee—thick chest, muscles corded at his neck and straining beneath his too tight shirt. Though my boss never resorted to chemicals to get him where he was.

“Who the fuck are you?” The voice was higher than I'd expected, the side effect of his desire to beef up without the work. I bet his dick was shriveled and impotent as I took in the rash of bad acne across his ebony cheeks. His meaty paw landed on my chest and I had the urge to rip it from his body. Probably a good thing I wasn’t carrying my gun.

“Security for Anna Carrington.”

The bouncer looked me over. His gaze lingered on the tattoos under my jaw, no doubt noticing the clash against my blue blazer and khaki pants. He turned and called over his shoulder. A second hulk with pasty white skin and the same bad acne stepped up, and the first talked low in his ear. When the second walked off into the VIP, the first turned his gaze to me.

Like he had all the fuckin’ time in the world.

Like he wasn’t standing between me and my client.

The second bouncer returned and shared a few more low words before the first nodded. He unhooked the rope and stepped aside, not a word spoken.

“Thanks.” Asshole. I pushed through and searched out Anna. I found her in the back corner, straddling the lap of some spoiled rich boy whose hands were creeping up the short skirt of her fuchsia dress. The collar of his hot pink polo was popped, his gelled hair standing on end with Anna’s fingers pushing through it.

“Classy,” I muttered as I took up a position far enough away to give her space, but close enough to step in if there was trouble. I scanned the crowd, but it was clear the only trouble Anna could get into here was if the boy she was riding was taken. That, or if he had STDs. I tried not to watch as she undid his pants and started stroking him like they weren’t sitting in the middle of a public place. But it was like cheap porn, a train wreck in the making.

Anna tucked the boy under her dress, and I could almost hear their moans over the thick music pulsing through the club. I pulled out my phone and pretended I didn't notice the scene in the dark corner. Discomfort didn’t begin to explain it. When they finished up, Anna patted his cheek and hopped off his lap. The boy grabbed at his pants, trying to cover himself from view. But the girl didn’t notice, or more likely didn’t care. She brushed out of the space without looking back.

With three long steps toward her, I reached her side and grabbed her wrist. “Where you going?”

She scowled at me with barely contained disdain. “To the restroom. You gonna come watch me piss, too?” She tried to yank away from my grasp but I held firm.