Sure enough, when I reached the side of the room, Maddie was kneeling on a cushion that was positioned near an empty chair. A small table was next to that with a waiting Dirty Shirley and a glass of champagne.
Since I wanted to keep my dick attached—and it would be removed if Easton saw me sitting too close—I flopped down in the plush chair on the opposite side of the table.
Actually, I pulled it a little farther away and then sat.
Better safe than sorry where my dick was concerned.
She looked up from her phone, and her brows rose when she saw it was me. Pressing her lips together, her blue eyes darted from me to the guarded hallway that led to the offices.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I got the okay from Easton to talk to you when I texted to find out where you were.”
A blush hit her cheeks at the same time a content smile curved her mouth. I knew it was because I’d had to get permission from her man.
She really does like belonging to Easton.
I wonder if Greer could ever feel that way about me.
“Oh, thank God,” she rushed out on an exhale. “I was getting bored. Easton should be back soon. He’s meeting with Atlas.”
As club co-owner and a bounty hunter, Atlas brought Wells Law a variety of business—all of it sensitive forverydifferent reasons. If Easton left Maddie alone long enough for her to get bored, it must’ve been something from the bounty hunter side.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Cohen was back there, slowing down the meeting to extend Maddie’s torture out front, though.
The sadist.
Not that I had room to judge that label.
“I’m actually here to talk to you,” I said.
I expected her to brace, but she leaned forward in anticipation—well, as forward as she could get with the gold handcuffs around her wrists. Ones that were connected to the empty seat next to her.
Yup, smart choice taking this chair because Easton would’ve torn my dick offandfed it to me.
She studied my face and watched for a reaction as she launched into her interrogation. “Is everything okay with Greer? Is she driving you crazy?”
Yes, but not in the way you think.
“Because she means well,” she continued. “More than that, she’s almost always right. The smart thing to do is just go with it.”
“No, she’s good. Better than good. But I need your help.” Hell, I was nervous. I felt like a pimply kid admitting a crush. “How can I get her?”
“Get her… to do what?”
“Gether. Get her to agree to go out with me. Have her want me back.”
“You want her?”
I’m fucking obsessed with her.
I lifted my chin instead.
“Oh. I… You… Uh… She… Hmm.” She scrunched her face and shook her head. “Sorry, let me actually finish a sentence here. I know Greer is gorgeous?—”
“An understatement,” I cut in.
“True. But there are a lot of gorgeous women in LA. Ones who aren’t working for you. Ones who don’t have shitty exes and a heap of other stress they’re dealing with.”
The shitty ex worked to my benefit since I wouldn’t be compared to some great guy, but the rest didn’t.
