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“Hey…Jackson. We’ve been looking for you.”
I barely recall the reason I came here. My heart is drawn to follow the girl in the lavender dress.
Thoughts of taking her home with me stifle any other thought. I’ll lock her up if I have to until she understands she belongs to me now. I do have a cage…
“Sorry we’re late.” Francois sounds like he’s already had a few drinks.
Francois asked me to join our business associates here for a quick drink before we head back to the office to talk more in depth, yet they are clearly not in a state to have a discussion. To make things worse, they haven't come alone. There are five women with the three men from Houston.
I can spot high-end prostitutes from fifty feet away. I don’t buy women, but I know lots of men who do.
In warning, I shake my head at Francois. He pales and gives me a sheepish laugh.
“Just some icing on the cake, Jackson. Come on, man. Let’s get you a real drink.”
Fuming, I scan the bar for Chastity. I hear Francois order two shots of Maker’s Mark. A minute later he pushes one of them in front of me.
“I can guarantee, after a couple of these, the weight of the world will fall off your shoulders.”
“My shoulders are fine,” I growl. He’s lucky I don’t fire him right now.
I need to get away. I need to get to her. All I know is her first name.
My heart races as I take a step toward where she disappeared.
Francois’ hand presses onto my chest to stop me and I bat it away. “Come on, don’t leave,” he raises his hands in surrender. “We gotta show these guys a good time. We need that property.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the property, and I don’t give a fuck about them,” I hiss sidestepping around him.
He pauses. “I thought you said you’d do whatever it took to seal this deal?”
I’ve been passionate and unbending about each of my life’s pursuits—it’s how I function. But what I feel for Chastity is something else.
The way her hand felt in mine, I want to feel that again. Her shy smile, I want to kiss it off her mouth then give it back to her.
Her lilac-colored dress, I want to rip it from her body.
“I need a second,” I say, turning to walk away.
The head of the Houston team steps into my path. His arms are wrapped around two of the escorts’ waists as distain has me clenching my fists.
“Jackson, I’m in awe of your hospitality. You really have planned everything. We drink, we talk business, and then we go to bed with our goody-bags.” He looks to the escort at his left with a lecherous grin.
I glare at Francois. Leaning close to me, his voice drops to a whisper. “Look, I'm sorry. Please just give them thirty minutes.”
“You said we were going back to the office after the bar. This doesn’t look like a goddamn business meeting.”
Francois sighs, rubbing his temples. “These guys specifically asked for women.”
I shake my head in distaste. “If this is how they want to do business, fuck them.”
I’m ready to tell them the deal is off when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Francois starts to speak, but I cut him off with a glare as I reach inside my jacket for my phone. It’s my personal cell, and only five people have this number: my parents, my PI, my attorney and my housekeeper.
The five people I trust with my life.
For a second, I panic that it might be my mom with bad news about my dad. A recent fall left him with a broken hip and that led to pneumonia from lying in bed, recovering. It’s been a downhill slide for months and he’s teetering on that place between rallying in the right direction or giving up and letting the slippery slope take him.
I hired my own army of medical personnel to get him back on track, but I always hold my breath waiting for that dreaded call. But when I hold the phone up, I see that it’s Isabella, my lawyer.
I’ve got a lot of legal shit going on right now, so I know what it’s probably about, but her strategizing can wait a few hours.
Francois doesn’t yet know about the bogus sexual harassment suits that are suddenly looming against me. I’ve not discussed it with anyone other than Isabella, hoping we can squash the bullshit before it becomes public knowledge.
Standing here in this bar with escorts—escorts who, apparently, somehow my company paid for—will not help my cause.
“Jackson, we need to get this deal.”
Francois is right. I need that piece of land. There is no other place like it in Houston and it fits my expansion plans perfectly. But Chastity…
A rush of adrenaline bolts through me as I spot a flash of lavender in the sea of people.
