Crawford is waiting impatiently downstairs with an overly pregnant woman. Bethany. The most unhappy pregnant woman I’ve ever seen, aside from my own mother.
I don’t greet either of them. They work for me, after all.
“What are you doing here?”
Crawford levels his gaze at me. “She threatened to call the police. Thinks you have one of her employees trapped here.”
“Ms. Jenna Whitney is not here.”
“He said she was.” Bethany points a bony finger at Crawford. “And that’s her dog.”
“I bought that dog.” I lie as easily as I breathe. “He’s a gift for a woman I was cheating on. Apparently, she thought I was going marry her.” I let the laugh escape my throat. “I’m not ready to let her go yet. There’s a surprising lack of women in this city willing to engage in freaky sex for free.”
Bethany doesn’t seem to be buying it. “You smell like fornication.”
“Jesus,” Crawford mutters.
I shoot him a scowl. “I bring a lot of women here. It’s not out of the question.” I shrug a bare shoulder.
Her lip curls up. “Prism does not allow our employees to engage in sexual relationships with clients.”
“What about nonsexual relationships?” I quip.
“I will be conducting a search of this apartment.” Bethany pushes up her sleeves.
I silently communicate “What the fuck?” to Crawford.
He silently communicates “Salinger will skin me if the police show up here asking about a kidnapped employee.”
Also, Jenna’s naked under my bed. I’m not a PR princess like she is, but even I know that’s not a good look.
The front door opens.
“Um…” One of the guards shuffles in.
“Oh, you do look delicious,” Sable says. The leggy blonde saunters in, wearing a skintight dress that’s made for ripping off.
The guard is staring straight up at the ceiling so he doesn’t check her out.
Sable’s lip curls up into a smile as she takes in my shirtless, barefoot state.
“See?” I tell Bethany as Sable licks her lips. “I wouldn’t have Jenna here when I’ve got this on my roster.”
“A little birdie told me”—Sable is practically rubbing up against me—“that someone wants a threesome.”
“Is that what you’re here for, then?” I smirk at Bethany. “Awfully late to be out at night. Your husband know where you are?”
“That’s exactly what she wants.” Sable rubs at the lipstick mark she’s left on my chest. “Too bad for her I already invited our third playmate.”
The front door opens again.
Bethany’s nostrils flare as Juniper, the leggy redhead from dinner—you know, where Jenna literally dated two step-family members then unfolded for me when I undid her with my mouth? Yeah, that dinner—walks in.
Her dress is so low cut that with one wrong move, she’d fall right out.
Somehow, Jenna, with her messy hair and ripped tank top and shorts with the bleach stain, is so much more desirable.
The redhead joins Sable. Truman jumps off his couch throne to bark at the new arrival.
