Page 18 of Playing Hard to Get

“You think I want to be stuck to your side?” I asked, my face close to hers, my voice just loud enough for her to hear. “Your daddy hired me to protect you. You don't like it, take it up with him.”

Another yank and I let her free, but I followed behind as she left the VIP. I lost sight of her as she squeezed through the crowd, but I saw her blonde head bouncing on her way to the restrooms. Shouldering my way forward, I finally made it to the dark hallway leading to the toilets. The line to the women’s wound out into the club. I didn’t see Anna there, so I pushed forward, bumping women dressed to the nines to get through.

Fuck.

Nothing.

On a hunch, I pushed into the men's. And sure enough, there she was. Pushed up against the wall, legs wrapped tight around the waist of some punk covered in ink, his sleeves going right to his fingertips. His jeans were around his knees and her dress was pushed up to her waist.

Shaking my head, I went to the urinals, taking care of business for once while taking care of business. Say what you want, but Anna finally did something to make my job easier. I finished before they did and stood by the door, waiting, scrolling through all the old pictures on my phone like I didn’t have anywhere else I'd rather be.

But there was somewhere I'd rather be.

I found pictures of last year, a small get-together at Frankie's with her and Corey's closest friends. I settled on a pic of me and Frankie on either side of a dark leather chair, Corey’s pained face smiling like he hadn’t been shot a few months before. In the background I saw where I'd rather be. The silky thighs of Vivian Leonetti disappearing under a turquoise dress. The little grunts and moans in the background reminded me too much of last night, and I had to flip over to the internet to get my mind on the game.

Before I got too carried away in my fantasies, Anna screamed out her release. Seconds later, the guy grunted to completion. I gave them a moment, perusing a news site while Anna and the punk tucked themselves in and covered up.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” she said as she saw me there. “You enjoy the show?”

It felt like sludge was sliding down my spine. “Just doing my job.”

She brushed out the door without a word to the punk and I moved to follow. Without warning, she turned on me and I nearly ran into her. Never mind she was in the midst of a dozen or more women looking for their own kind of relief, she hissed at me, “I should tell my father what you’re doing, you disgusting… you…”

“Go ahead, darlin’. I’d be more than happy to let him know what went down here tonight.”

She scowled, dragged her eyes down, then up my body, and turned on her heel. Part of me wanted her to tell her dear old dad, just so I wouldn’t have to put up with the stuck-up brat any longer. But I wouldn't want that brought down on Frankie or Lee. It was their names on the line, not mine. If I did that, I’d need evidence to cover my hide.

Thankfully, Anna didn’t fuck anyone else the rest of the night. I watched from a distance as she and her friends got smashed and lost themselves in each other on the dance floor. I kept watch as she did a couple lines in that back corner, making sure the guys pawing at her didn’t take advantage, that she was coherent enough to know what was going on around her. I dragged her out to her waiting limo as the club was shutting down and escorted her to her hotel room. I stayed long enough to ensure she was breathing as she fell asleep with her dress and shoes still on, then headed to my own room.

One night of Anna Carrington was enough for a lifetime. But lucky me, I was here all week.

5

Vivian

“I think that's everything.” The delivery man stood in my new living room, clipboard in hand, eyeing me like he had been since he and his crew showed up. I put down the vase I’d just unboxed and wiped my hands on my jean shorts.

“Do I need to sign for it?”

The man had his eyes on my chest, and I had an urge to find a sweater to throw over my tank. After I punched him in the throat.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, dragging his eyes up to meet mine. “Right here, please.”

Taking the pen he offered, I scribbled my name on the line he pointed at. When I handed him his pen, he gripped it against the clipboard and extended his hand to me.

“It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Leonetti. Hope to see you again soon.”

I give him a tight smile as he grasped my hand. Too long. I pulled away from him and he had the brains to realize he was making a damn fool of himself. A blush spread across his ruddy cheeks and he looked at the floor before nodding and turning toward the door.

“Creep,” I muttered after I shut and locked it behind him. I returned to the box I was unpacking but stopped when there was a rap on the door. I was tempted to ignore it. To let the creep stand there and wait like an idiot while I stayed inside. After a second rap, I was ready to tell him off. I huffed out a breath and crossed the living room floor. I flipped the deadbolt and pulled open the door. “You forget someth—Uh, hi.”

“Uh, hi, yourself.” Frankie stood outside my condo door, a bouquet of spring flowers in her arms. The beautiful pastels popped against the black of her winter coat.

“What are you doing here?” I asked after a beat.

She scrunched up her nose at me, like she used to as a kid. She grew out of that habit shortly after she moved into my father’s house when she was twelve, but since meeting her fiancé, the habit came back. “Vinny spilled the beans. I had to come by and see for myself.”

Nodding, I chewed on the inside of my cheek before swinging the door open for her. Frankie took an appraising look around as she entered. There was no expression on her face, no indication of what she was thinking. It was that poker face my father taught her, the careful control of emotions. Hell, that I used it myself so many times was the only reason I recognized it.