The blinding afternoon sunlight penetrated the front bay window of Carley’s house and pierced his eyeballs as Ace stood with one hip braced against the sofa and waited for Rebel to twist several different colors of wire into a bundle. As badly as he hated to think safety had become an issue, both he and Carley would rest much easier once the place was severely locked down. Well, mostly him.
And, although the system was a necessary evil, he had to admit the place was currently a disaster. Rebel and Chaos stood in opposite corners of the room, preparing multicolored wires to be strung through the ceiling in an effort to connect the house to a safety grid that would lock down the place darn near as tightly as Fort Knox. Thunder stood on the top rung of a ladder, drilling holes in the ceiling that would eventually hold motion sensors and security lights.
“Carley agreed to this, right?” Chaos plugged several more wires into a flat panel that would become the brain of Carley’s alarm system.
He frowned. “Yes, but what makes you think I need her permission?”
“Personal experience,” his friend mumbled.
“You always need her permission.” Thunder’s no-nonsense admission cemented the absolute truth in the statement. “I’m going up into the attic. I’ll bang when I’m ready for the wire.”
Chaos shook his head as Thunder left the room. “Hotter than hell up there. Did you get anything out of Carley last night?”
He released a long breath as Rebel handed him the bundle. “Apparently, the hottest topic in conversation at present is a new shipping port. EF Chemicals intends to build a bigger facility to accommodate their growing business.”
“Were they represented at the party?”
He nodded as Thunder banged against the ceiling. “Christopher Remington attended. He’s the current president.”
Chaos climbed the ladder and crammed a bundle of wire through the hole. “Any info on him?”
“Only that he is a childhood friend of Carley’s. The two families have rubbed elbows for years.”
“Do you have Intel on the company?”
“I talked to Remington personally last night. Their main product is fertilizer high in nitrogen and phosphorus. He claims that shipping it by water is more cost effective than by air. That’s where the bigger port comes in.”
“Anyone oppose the project?”
“No.”
Rebel bent in front of a laptop on the floor at his feet and moved the mouse with his fingertips. “He was on the guest list. Remington’s squeaky clean on the surface. Not even a traffic violation.”
“He left the City’s party before the finger made an appearance and the Mayor’s Reception before the scorpions invaded.” He shrugged. “As far as I know, the Police Department questioned him by phone.”
Rebel frowned. “Why the hell did our perp leave a finger?”
“Obviously a threat.”
“Well yeah, but he had to have known everyone else in the room would see it.”
“He was banking on the fact that his victim would take the hint.”
“If not a threat, could it be sabotage?”
“Maybe,” he agreed, “but I’m not convinced any of the guests had a problem with Carley. She plans events for probably ninety percent of them and sometimes on a repetitive basis.”
“Okay, so what about the scorpions?” Another bang signaled Chaos to feed the remaining wires through another hole.
“Same thing – a means of intimidation.”
“Coincidently – or not – the one thing these parties have in common is Carley Kensworth.” Rebel voiced the one conclusion they all shared. “I’m convinced someone wants to put her out of business.”
Chaos descended the ladder and punched several numbers on the keypad. “Competitors?”
“None.” Rebel stood. “I’ve searched the city and surrounding area. I found a few wedding planners but no one who operates on the same scale as Carley. She’s owned Let’s Party for five years, all of them extremely successful.”
“That means one thing,” Thunder said as he re-entered the room. “It’s personal.”
“I’ve already come to that conclusion.” Ace grinned at his teammates. “That’s why I told Carley we’d work as waiters at the Senators’ Reception.”
Thunder widened his stance and folded both arms over his chest. “We?”
He nodded.
“We, as in us?” Chaos mimicked the captain’s pose.
He frowned. “Yes, all of us except Rebel.”
“Why not Rebel?”
“I’m almost one of Senator Graystone’s family,” Rebel drawled, obviously amused by the other men’s lack of enthusiasm. “I’d blow your cover.”
“Damn.” Chaos released a hard breath. “What do we have to wear this time?”
“Relax.” Ace grinned. “Just a suit.”
Thunder unfolded his arms. “It’s good strategy.” He shrugged. “We’ll all be there anyway.”
Ace tilted his head to one side. “You were planning to attend?”
“Liv,” Chaos mumbled.
The captain glared. “Enough said. Test the sirens, Rebel.”
***
Carley sat on a stool in front of an easel and stared at the blank, white canvas while she lifted a wine glass and sipped the rich, smooth, red contents. Although Sophie’s suggestion of meeting at the Pampered Palette for a girls’ outing was attractive, she wasn’t so sure she would be able to wow anyone with a masterpiece.
The small, quaint café hosted wine and painting six days a week, offering customers the opportunity to flex both their social and creative muscles in quite an impressive atmosphere. The interior walls, painted a soft cream color, showcased three dimensional windows built of rich wood behind which silhouettes of people appeared in the paint. Below each window, life-size replicas of brass keys hung on brass knobs. On the accent wall in the back of the room a large, black Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud with painted details so lifelike, the iron literally jumped off the wall.
Black iron tables and matching chairs with padded, cream-colored, satin cushions offered guests a place to sit and visit without participating in the artistic activity. In the center of the room, black iron easels stood tall, complete with a matching stool and a palette of paint.
“This was a fantastic idea, Sophie.” Kat picked up her paintbrush and smirked. “But you know I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “It’s abstract art. You’ll do fine.”
“Yeah,” Liv agreed. “Just do what I do. Paint a multi-colored blob and go with it.”
“What are we supposed to be painting, anyway?” Carley giggled. “I tend to put a little more emphasis on the wine.”
Sophie gestured with her head at a chalkboard on the front counter where the evening’s topic was written in pink chalk. “Love.”
“Oh great,” Kat mumbled.
“No hearts,” Sophie said with a grin.
Carley dabbed red paint on her brush. “At least we don’t have to paint fear. After last night, I’d have a page full of scorpions.”
“They were creepy,” Liv agreed.
Kat snorted. “Who in their right mind uses scorpions as a scare tactic, anyway?”
“Someone who wants to ruin me.”
“Don’t worry, Carley,” Sophie soothed. “No one believes you had anything to do with that.”
“I agree.” Liv nodded. “Scorpions aren’t your average pests like ants or roaches. They had to be brought in. You’d have an extremely hard time convincing anyone that the Westminster Hotel has scorpions living in the kitchen.”
“Any ideas who might have brought them?”
“Not a clue. Chef Arturio said the desserts sat on the kitchen counter in plain sight until they were delivered to the table. Sharon Ramsey carried them and I can guarantee you that if she saw anything move on her tray, they would’ve ended up in the floor. Even ladybugs freak her out; she’s a very squeamish person.” She paused to take a drink of liquid courage. “I’m extremely nervous about the Senators’ Reception.”
“Don’t be,” Sophie soothed. “That place will be watched so closely, trouble doesn’t have a chance at interference.”
Liv nodded in agreement. “Maybe it was just all a big coincidence.”
“Hopefully.” Carley grinned. “Although, I did make a significant change to the reception staff.”
“Oh, Carley.” Kat shook her head and tsked. “Sergeant Moore will not be happy to hear that. Last I heard, he finalized all the background checks.”
“Actually, the change was his idea.”
“Really?” Kat still didn’t appear convinced. “What exactly did you do?”
“I hired Alpha Four as waiters. Well, all of them except Rebel – that would be a little too obvious.”
Kat’s eyes widened. “And they agreed?”
“Thunder’s not really a people person,” Liv mumbled.
“I have no idea what anyone said,” Carley answered. “Ace planned to tell them this afternoon. I’m just ready to get to the bottom of this mess.”
“It’s a mystery.” Kat picked up her wine glass and sipped. “But in the meantime, you have your own personal bodyguard. Welcome to my world.”
Carley couldn’t have prevented the smile that split her lips. “Actually, it’s not so bad.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“We had coffee.”
“Cold or hot?”
“Definitely hot.”
“Good for you.” Liv nodded. “I had a feeling about the two of you.”
“You realize Liv’s feelings are never wrong, don’t you?”
She nodded as she sipped her wine. No one could deny Liv’s talent for reading people. It was as if her friend had an uncanny sixth sense of seeing right into a person’s soul. And in her case, she hoped Liv’s feelings were correct. Her hesitance had nothing to do with Ace or what she felt for him, she just needed a little more time to organize her thoughts and plan an appropriate strategy.
“Forget it, Carley.” Kat shook her head and laid down her paintbrush. “All the planning in the world won’t help you.”
Carley raised both eyebrows at Kat’s response, not surprised the other woman had read her mind. “You don’t think so?”
“I know so. All four of those men are as unpredictable and spontaneous as an EF-5 tornado.” Her friend smirked. “Well, except Sgt. Taylor’s freakish neatness habit.”
Sophie nodded. “I have to agree.”
“I’m finding that to be exceptionally evident in Thunder’s case.” Liv released a hard sigh, something she never did unless she became extremely agitated. “Every time I think I have him figured out, he goes and proves me wrong.”
Carley sat in awe at Liv’s outburst, not sure how to respond. Was her friend speaking personally or professionally?
“Geez, Liv,” Kat tilted her head to one side and glanced at the other woman’s painting. “Is that why you’ve painted what appears to be a ladybug dancing in the rain under a storm cloud?”
“Nice try.” Liv giggled. “My painting has nothing to do with Thunder or even love, for that matter. I just couldn’t think of anything else to paint.”
“Hmmm.” Sophie leaned over to look at the picture. “I don’t think so. I happen to know you love ladybugs, Liv, and you love to walk in the rain. However, the cloud in this drawing may represent something else altogether.”
Carley leaned over to look at Kat’s drawing and raised both eyebrows. “A dragon? How is that love?”
“Chaos has this creature tattooed on the back of one shoulder. Believe me, it’s extremely lovable.”
“Rebel has a knight on his back.” Sophie’s admission drew Carley’s attention off of Kat’s dragon. “Does Ace have a tattoo?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe you should find out.”
“Maybe I will.” She drained the contents of her glass. “Perhaps I can convince him to clean up the house shirtless.”
“Who says it’s under his shirt?”
“She has a point,” Liv agreed. “It could be anywhere.”
“Well, it’s a start. Besides, I have a feeling the place is a mess by now. Ace was up at the crack of dawn getting ready to install a monster of security systems, as he put it.”
“They’re big on safety.”
“Obsessed is more like it,” Kat drawled. “And don’t even think about using an easy code in your system. He’ll insist you use one that you can barely remember.”
Sophie giggled. “Rebel changes ours weekly and now he’s got my mother convinced she do the same. Do you know how annoying that is? I grew up in that house – that code is literally tattooed on my brain.”
“I can’t top Kat’s dragon.” Carley laid down her brush on the easel and picked up her now empty wine glass. “My drawing looks more like a paint sample.”
Sophie shrugged. “It’s all for fun.”
“Says the woman who’s an art major.” Liv raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should see about scheduling a show of your own.”
Sophie dismissed their friend with the wave of a hand. “Heavens, no. I’d rather appreciate it rather than paint it.”
“I think I’m done here too,” Liv agreed. “I’ve got a client interview in an hour.”
Carley frowned as she slid from her stool. “Does anyone else find it strange that we were allowed to come here alone?”
Sophie released another infectious giggle. “We didn’t come alone, Carley.”
“We didn’t?”
Kat shook her head. “Suit at six o’clock over your left shoulder.”
Carley glanced in the direction her friend mentioned. Sure enough, another sinfully handsome man sat at a corner table with his gaze focused right on them. Although she knew Kat used the term suit loosely, she also knew that the man in black meant pure business. As if he sensed her attention, he gave her a wink as he lifted what appeared to be a cup of coffee.
“Good grief,” she said as she turned back to her friends. “Obviously there’s a prerequisite to associating with Thunder’s team.”
“Yeah,” Kat drawled, “a sexy one.”
“Well, sexy or not, he’s going to have to let me go.” Carley turned to hug each of her friends. “I’ve got a board meeting.”
“I’m assuming you have an escort,” Kat said as she returned a squeeze.
“Of course. Ace insisted.”
Sophie repeated the gesture. “Is tonight the vote on whether or not to back EF Chemicals?”
“Yes. At least the meeting should be very short.”
Liv grinned as she embraced her. “I’m sure you’ll find something to do with the rest of your evening.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She returned Liv’s grin, waved at the rest of her friends, and then headed to the exit.
Curiosity nudged her as she rested a hand on the door handle, ready to push open the barrier. She moved her gaze to the corner table. The hired muscle hadn’t moved or even attempted to stop her. Instead, he nodded, as if giving her permission to leave the café. Grateful, she shrugged as she opened the door and stepped outside – only to find Ace’s truck parked at the curb and the man himself braced against the passenger door with his arms folded, his muscled forearms on magnificent display.
She released a soft sigh in appreciation while her pulse raced like a freight train. A personal bodyguard was turning out to be quite a pleasant distraction.
“Hello, Sergeant Moore.”
A grin curved his mouth as he opened the truck door. “Your chariot, Miss Kensworth.”
As badly as she wanted to run and jump him – jump into his truck – she stood her ground. “What about my car?”
“Ben will make sure it gets home safely.”
“Ben?”
“The guy in black you saw inside.”
“The one you failed to mention beforehand?”
He simply shrugged.
“Ben doesn’t have a key.”
He extended a hand, palm up, and wiggled his index finger.
She shook her head while she dug for the key she kept inside her purse. “You find evil pleasure in messing with my plan, don’t you?”
“You secretly love it,” he said as he closed his fingers around the key she placed in his palm and then waved his free hand at the open door. “In. I’ll be back in a flash.”
Ace waited until Carley sat behind tinted windows to lock the truck and secure it with the alarm. No doubt she sat in the leather seat, shaking her head at his obsession with safety, as she put it. Yet, he wouldn’t take the chance. Although he would only be inside the café for one split second, he refused to leave her vulnerable.
True to his word, he slid into the driver’s seat less than a minute later and they headed for the Kensworth Building.
“This shouldn’t take long,” she assured him as he maneuvered through traffic.
“Not a problem. Is this a regularly scheduled meeting?”
“No. Tonight we vote on whether or not to support the new port.”
“Is there any question it will pass?”
“Not in my mind. My grandfather operates on tradition. The Board has always voted on issues that arise and he intends to keep it that way. My father would simply make a few phone calls and write a check.”
“Did your grandfather build Kensworth Investments?”
She nodded. “From the ground up, over fifty years ago. My father’s been by his side as long as I can remember.”
“Have they always lived together?”
“Yes. My parents moved in as soon as their honeymoon was over. My grandfather insisted the house was entirely too big and stale without them. And if he had his way, I’d still reside there.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Independence. Besides, I keep odd, late hours. I’d drive them crazy coming in at all hours of the night.”
“Party girl,” he teased.
She smiled. “Hardly. I plan them, that’s about it.”
“Here we are,” he said as he pulled under the valet awning and shifted into park. “Anything else I need to know before we go inside?”
She shook her head. “My father has already explained the recent unfortunate activity. There won’t be anyone who questions your presence.”
He nodded in understanding in an attempt to conceal his prior knowledge of the briefing while he pressed the brake pedal and then poked the auto-start button to kill the engine. As soon as his gaze met hers, he knew his attempt was unsuccessful.
“You already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted, “but thank you for telling me anyway.”
“I’m all about being prepared,” she mumbled.
Instinct caused him to reach for his weapon as both the driver’s and passenger’s doors suddenly opened. When he realized the valets stood at both openings, he took five seconds to squeeze the steering wheel and both calm and curse his overactive nerves. Honestly, the valet on his side had no idea how lucky he was not to be up close and personal with the pavement at that exact moment. Carley unbuckled and turned toward her open door.
“Wait,” he told her a little more sternly than he intended. “I’ll come around.”
His boots practically penetrated the cement with the force of his steps as he rounded the truck until he finally stood beside her. Damn nerves.
He extended a hand and she slid her into his hold before stepping out. He pressed a hand to the small of her back and quickly urged her inside the Kensworth Building and then into a waiting elevator. The concierge gave them both a nod and then greeted Carley.
“Good evening, Miss Kensworth.”
“Hello, Carl.”
Finally as Carl jabbed the tenth floor button, Ace allowed himself to relax.
The elevator opened into a large room with cathedral ceilings under which a long table rested in the middle. Ace counted twenty chairs around the rectangle, each covered in what appeared to be rich, brown leather. Against each wall, additional tables covered with white tablecloths occupied space.
Three pitchers of ice water and two large coffee pots sat atop each table and both drinking glasses and coffee cups rested nearby. A small shiver tickled his spine at the sight of the coffee cups and he wondered if Carley experienced the same sensation. He mentally repeated his earlier mantra. Damn nerves. And, damn scorpions.
Apparently not bothered by a flashback, Carley approached her parents, immediately swallowed by her father’s arms. When he finally released her, Charles Kensworth extended a hand.
“Thank you for coming, Sergeant.”
He accepted the other man’s offer and returned it. “My pleasure, Sir.”
“Make yourself comfortable. Everyone else should arrive shortly and we’ll get started.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Carley slipped out of her mother’s hold and gestured with her head to a set of chairs away from the main table. “Come on. I’ll give you the play-by-play.”
He sat next to her, silently taking note of the participants while Carley announced each visitor who entered the room.
“You know my grandparents, of course. Right behind them is Richard Danover, my grandfather’s right hand man.”
Ace didn’t need an explanation to realize the relationship between the two men; Danover hadn’t left his boss’s side since they arrived.
“Does he hold a seat on the Board?”
“Yes. My grandfather values his input.”
“What about the couple near the coffee pot?”
“Geneva and Everett Stone. Geneva plays bridge with my grandmother on Tuesdays.”
“Does she have a financial background?”
“None whatsoever, but she has incredible insight into the markets. It’s quite an impressive natural talent.”
“What about the mister?”
“He’s along for the ride. He and my grandfather like to talk about their golf games.” She turned to nod again at the entry. “The two gentlemen entering the room now are Daniel Black, the head of our securities division, and Nathaniel Derringer, our director of lending.”
He mentally did the math. There were nine board members, making it impossible to tie up the vote. The outcome was cut and dry – it would pass or fail. Henry Kensworth obviously had no patience for indecision. And, the only way the decision whether or not to support EF Chemicals would not be made tonight was if someone abstained.
“Kensworth Investments has nine board members?”
She nodded.
“What if one of them abstains?”
“Not an option. Our bylaws state that any time we vote on financial contribution, each member is required to cast a vote.”
“No one has ever tested the system?”
“With my grandfather in charge? Uh, no. Believe me, we’ll all vote and my guess is that it will be a unanimous decision.”
He moved his gaze to the elevator when he caught movement in his peripheral vision and noticed the latest visitor make a beeline for both Mr. Kensworths.
“What’s Remington doing here?”
Her brow wrinkled. “Christopher? Where?”
“At the table, now seated next to your father.”
“I have no idea. I guess he could’ve been invited to hear the vote but I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Carley’s grandfather took the seat at the head of the table and then banged a gavel against the accompanying sound block beneath.
“If you’d all take your seats please, we’ll get started.”
Carley stood. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
As soon as all the participants sat around the table, Henry Kensworth banged the gavel again before he spoke.
“The meeting shall come to order.” He returned the gavel to the table. “Although the planned order of business tonight is to vote on our support and financial contribution to EF Chemicals, I’d like to discuss a few concerns.”
Ace sat forward in his chair and braced both elbows on his knees, majorly intrigued by the turn of events. And when he glanced at Carley, her widened eyes and raised eyebrows told him she hadn’t expected the discussion either.
He moved his gaze around the table and onto each board member, each of them sitting straight up and focused on Mr. Kensworth’s statement. Even the younger Kensworth appeared perplexed. Yet, it was Christopher Remington who finally broke the silence.
“Concerns, Sir?”
The older man nodded once. “Yes. I am concerned about the environmental risks when shipping more chemicals across the water.”
“I can assure you, Mr. Kensworth, there are no increased risks.” Remington lowered his shoulders in obvious relief.
“I’m assuming you can provide data to back up your conclusion?”
Remington raised his shoulders again and Ace caught sight of several droplets of moisture on his forehead. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to be challenged.
“I’ll put that together for you immediately.”
“Thank you.” Carley’s grandfather looked around the table. “Does anyone else have concerns?”
Nathaniel Derringer raised a finger. “I do, Henry. The proposed import tax seems inflated. If we support the company in its endeavor and it fails to pass the public’s vote, we risk losing support of our own investors.”
“I agree,” Geneva Stone interjected. “Kensworth Investments has had a stellar reputation since its inception. The last thing we want to do is lose the trust of our clients.”
Charles Kensworth shook his head in agreement. “It’s ultimate death.”
“So,” Henry Kensworth continued, “shall we vote?”
Each board member nodded in agreement.
“All those in favor of postponing the vote until we receive Mr. Remington’s figures, please say aye.”
A chorus of ayes ensured.
“Any nays?”
Ace smirked in the silence, absolutely positive that Remington would’ve shouted his vote at the top of his lungs if at all possible. He noticed the other man shift uncomfortably in his chair.
“The vote is unanimous. We’ll meet again as soon as we receive the data. Mr. Remington, we look forward to receiving your report.” The gavel sounded more like a gauntlet as it hit the sound block. “Meeting adjourned.”
As everyone stood and left the table, Ace didn’t miss Remington’s quick departure. He waited until the elevator doors closed before he stood and met Carley in front of the coffee pot.
“Well, that was unexpected,” he said as he took a mug.
Carley took the cup from him, filled it with the steaming brew, and then handed it back. “I know, right? I had no idea my grandfather had reservations.”
“Thank you.” He took the coffee, waited until she poured herself a cup, and then gestured with his head to the chairs away from the crowd. As soon as she sat, he asked the question that burned a hole in his brain.
“How would you have voted?”
She lifted her cup to her lips, took a slow sip, and then lowered it – a stall tactic he waited patiently for her to complete. Although, he had a pretty good idea of her answer, he wanted to hear her say it. He followed her lead and took a drink, as well.
“I would’ve voted no,” she said finally.
“Why?”
“I have the same concerns as my grandfather and Nathaniel and honestly, I don’t think there’s any way Christopher can change my mind.”
“You don’t think a larger shipping port will benefit the city?”
“No. I think the current port is sufficient.” She released a soft sigh. “I believe anything larger will invite trouble.”
“The Kensworth board isn’t going to offer support.”
She grinned. “You’re very observant. If Christopher knows what’s good for him, he’ll drop the issue.”
“He won’t.”
“Probably not.”
“Will that cause a rift between the two of you?”
“Not with me.” She shrugged. “Business is business in my book.”
He lifted his mug, swallowed the contents, and then set the empty cup on a nearby table. “Will Kensworth be the only company to turn him down?”
“No. Several others already have.”
“Yet construction is in process.”
She nodded. “Apparently, EF Chemicals has a private investor. If the public vote doesn’t pass, they’re stuck with a brand new building. It’s not really much of a loss.”
“What about the Graystones, Judge Abbott, and the Blackwells?”
“All undecided, at least publicly. Senator Graystone and Judge Abbott have skillfully avoided a direct answer; the Blackwells have followed their example.”
“Do you think they’re undecided?”
“No. Kat, Sophie, and Liv agree with me.”
Although he had already drawn that conclusion, it was good to hear he was correct. In fact, he would bet he was also correct in assuming all three families wouldn’t be bothered if the port closed down altogether.
All the more reason for Remington’s concern; if they had the clout to open it, they had the clout to close it.
He stood and offered a hand. “You ready to call it a night?”
“Yes.” She placed her empty cup next to his on the nearby table, slid her hand into his, and stood. “I’ve definitely got a lot to sleep on.”
***
Seated behind a long oak bar, he watched the woman in front of him wiggle her shoulders and offer him a nice, naked view of her tight, tanned rack. Severely aroused, he was tempted to test the club’s no-touching policy; his fingers itched to reach out and pinch her pink, taut nipples, to roll them in his grasp while she moaned in pleasure. His cock lengthened as she stood and turned, presenting her firm ass cheeks to him, split right down the middle with a golden string.
When she bent at the waist for the second time, he caught sight of the treasure between her legs, covered yet visible to his imagination. The loud, obnoxious beat of the heavy metal music hammered a rhythm that she met note for note with the sway of her hips as she continued to entice him. Hypnotized and aroused, he lifted his beer and took a long swallow in a sore attempt to cool both his heated body and his raging temper. What had started out as a celebratory night out had quickly turned to a damage control mission. Although there was absolutely nothing he could do from here, at least the scenery stimulated him while he racked his brain for a delicate way to relay the news. Unfortunately, the only thing delicate around him was the string between the stripper’s ass checks.
He slammed down the beer bottle in frustration. This whole operation should’ve been complete by now. He had been assured that the path to success was cleared and that business would explode in the process. Instead, the process had become severely screwed up; obviously, they needed a new plan of action.
With no other choice, he stood, reached into his pocket, and maneuvered his cell phone around his hard-on and out of his pocket. Once the doll on stage danced her last note, he headed for the privacy of the john.
He swiped a frequently-called icon and then pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand while he held the phone with the other.
As soon as the call connected, his confidence took a severe dip.
“We’ve hit a snag,” he said carefully.
A long, pregnant pause crossed the line and he held his tongue, knowing that elaborating prematurely was not the correct protocol.
“Explain.”
“The vote did not carry; the company will not commit without further data.”
“They are stalling. Provide it to them.”
“I have it prepared,” he admitted, “but I’m not convinced it will do any good.”
“You have inside information to support your doubt?”
“No. My concern comes from the fact that there are several others who very well may follow their example.”
“Of course they will.”
“You’re not worried?”
“Not in the least. Whether anyone lends support to this operation or not is of no consequence to me. I can get around them.”
Although relieved by the other man’s lack of concern, he couldn’t disregard his own. “That might not work out as well as we think.”
“You doubt me?”
“Actually, yes.” Exhaustion caused him to lay it all on the line. “Not only is her shadow extremely difficult to work around, all of her friends are covered. It’s been sheer hell dodging them and I really think it’s in our best interest to lay low for awhile.”
“No.” The denial was firm and absolute.” They are mere men.”
“Men who are trained in mortal combat.”
“Shall I replace you?”
Very tempted to admit defeat and jump on the next plane out of town, he held his tongue. There was no escape; things had progressed to the point of no return and it wouldn’t do any good for him to run. Someone would find him sooner rather than later.
“No,” he answered while his confidence continued to waver. “I’ll find a way around them.”
“See that you do.”
His skepticism lingered even when he knew the other man was no longer on the other end of the line. He was not a novice; getting around the muscled obstacles would not be an easy task, but out of necessity he would give it his best shot.
He only hoped he could make it out alive.