Page 5

“At the desk, ask for Thomas Frost’s room. They’ll send you right up.” Cold stroked a gloved hand over Jimmy’s cheek, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”

Jimmy could only nod, gawking up at the beautiful gangster as he pulled away, him and Jules departing. The door shut, and even though Jimmy was expecting it, the sound still made him jump.

“Holy crap.” Jimmy grabbed his chest, panting hard. He was full of adrenaline and had nowhere to put it, so he started cleaning his apartment. He matched socks and folded his threadbare towels. He washed dishes and scrubbed his counters. Unable to sit still, he kept busy, collapsing back in his recliner and cradling his face when he was finally exhausted.

He started doing the math in his head again.

Jimmy owed over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

At ten thousand dollars a night, that meant at least twenty-five nights, probably twenty-six, to completely clear his debt.

The bonuses would certainly help, but God knew what it would take to earn one. He had to worry about pleasing Boss Cold and obeying his every order without having any idea what might be asked of him. He should assume the worst, but Jimmy was actually intrigued. He’d never been brave enough to be very adventurous in the bedroom before.

Maybe this would be educational. Maybe he would even enjoy it. He hadn’t had a boyfriend or a girlfriend in a very long time. The company of his own hand had been the only outlet for stress relief for a while now.

Although intimidating, Cold was very handsome, and Jimmy caught himself wondering what could be hiding under all those layers of clothing. He’d find out soon enough, though he daydreamed about rippling pecs and washboard abs. He used his precious eighty-six dollars and nineteen cents to order a small pizza, the highlight of a very crappy day, which left him with fifty-six dollars and eighty-four cents to get a cab downtown.

Even though working for Cold was going to take care of Jimmy’s debt, it still wasn’t going to feed him or pay his rent. He had to find another job. Gobbling up the pizza, he flipped through the classifieds in search of employment. As a college dropout with a checkered job history, his prospects were limited to retail and customer service. He made a list of stores to visit tomorrow and hopefully find a place that would be willing to pay him in advance, and he soon lost track of the time.

When he looked at the clock, it was already a few minutes past eight.

“Oh fuck.” Jimmy moaned in frustration. He had to get ready, hurrying to his room to change clothes. He thumbed through his closet and tried to decide what to wear.

Was this like a date? Should he dress up a little? What was the appropriate attire to go have sex with a mob boss to settle a debt?

He picked out the nicest shirt he owned, a simple button-up in a rich red that he’d always been told was his color. He switched between a few different pairs of jeans until he settled on one that fit his long legs well. He was digging through his shoes when it suddenly struck him that whatever he wore probably didn’t matter. After all, it was just going to end up on the floor, wasn’t it?

Sighing, he pulled on his old faithful black sneakers and grabbed his jacket before rushing out the door. He hailed a cab and promised a big tip if they could get to the Wynne Hotel before nine. He had to hurry, his palms already sweating and his stomach turning somersaults the entire way.

One thing he was certain of was that Boss Cold would not appreciate tardiness.

Chapter two

Jimmy’s stomach dropped to his feet as he rode the elevator up to the executive level of the Wynne Hotel. The receptionist had given him a skeptical look when he asked for access to Mr. Frost’s room, but she passed him a key card without question. Tapping his foot anxiously as the floors dinged by, he took a deep breath when the doors finally opened.

There were several large men in suits blocking the hallway, and every one of them stared him down as he stepped off the elevator.

They did not look friendly.

Jimmy was struck by a bolt of panic. He started to back away, but the elevator doors had already closed behind him. He tried to appear as small and as unthreatening as possible while all the blood in his body rushed to his face, and he waved shyly. “Uh, hi.”

“Better hurry up,” the familiar voice of Jules Price rumbled. “Boss ain’t gonna be happy if you’re late.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy gulped, bravely taking a few steps forward. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew he had to be cutting it close. “Hey, Mr. Price.”

Jules lumbered out from the ranks of his fellow suited giants, grinning in an unnaturally cheerful way. “Good to see you again, Twig. Miss me?”

“Yeah, I always love seeing people who tried to burn me,” Jimmy mumbled, regretting his retort immediately. He attempted a sweet smile and hoped the giant man had a sense of humor.

To his relief, Jules laughed.

Jimmy did not.

“Hey, ain’t nothin’ personal.” Jules leered. “Just business.” Nodding at two of the men, he commanded, “Search him.”

Jimmy didn’t protest as he got patted down roughly.

Jules gave him a crooked smile. “Can’t be too careful.”