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Having changed out of my work gear fromAnna’s Place, I slip into a jogger set and grab the subway, heading uptown to Tribeca. When I’d realised Anna meant to pussy-foot around me, I’d organised for extra shifts, needing to keep my hands moving and my mind on something other than feeling sorry for myself.
Arriving at Rogue a good forty minutes before my shift, I slide in past a grinning Griffith. “Evening, Jolie!”
I smile brightly at this great big teddy bear of a man. “Missed you too, Griff.”
Instead of heading to the changing area, I head right and upstairs, arriving outside Vaughn’s office on silent feet. I’m about to twist the handle without knocking when I hear low grunts followed by a high-pitched cry.
I roll my eyes and lean against the opposite wall, waiting on him to finish.
There’s giggling, followed by rustling, and without warning, the door flies open. Vaughn spots me, smirking at my unimpressed pout.
“Thanks for that, Mandy—”
“It’sBrandi.”
He shrugs indifferently. “To-may-to. To-mah-to.”
Her indignant gasp sees me hiding a smirk behind my fist as she storms from the room in her tassels and little else.
Vaughn’s laughing eyes land on mine, and I shake my head, even as I can’t hide my twitching lips. “You’redisgusting.”
I move past him into his office, which damn well reeks of sex. It’s never bothered me before, but now it just makes me crave the intimacy of being with my lover.
Focus, Summer!
Vaughn closes the door behind me, strides around his desk, and pours us both two fingers of Cognac. I accept the tumbler gratefully, downing it in one gulp.
As I gently deposit the glass on his massive teak desk, he raises a silent, surprised eyebrow before sipping from his own.
I don’t preamble. “I need help.”
His brow edges higher. “Haven’t I been telling you that for years, sweetheart?”
I narrow my eyes and gesture for a refill. “I’m serious. I need one of your I.T. guys—thespecialisedones—to look into someone for me.”
“Who?”
Taking my refilled tumbler, I sip slowly, holding his dark eyes, letting the question hang between us. I trust Vaughn. Implicitly.
Somewhere along the way, my boss, Vaughn Burton, has become a friend of mine. He’s rude, crass, and downright mean oftentimes, but he has a heart bigger than Texas, even though he hides it from almost everyone.
Maybe it’s our shared heritage—both Londoners with no family to speak of—or maybe it’s becausesometimesthe universe brings what you need into your life right when you need it.
When I’d been struggling to make ends meet, Vaughn had happened uponAnna’s Place. It was well past midnight, and I had a toddler trying to sleep in the booth next to him.
I’d not told Anna things were as bad as all that.
I couldn’t tell her that I’d resorted to overnighting in her booths with Jesse because we’d been evicted. I couldn’t bear to see her pity. Or to experience my shame in vivid reality.
To expose just howterribleof a mother I felt I was in not being able to provide a basic necessity for my child.
But Vaughn had taken one look at me, at Jesse, and for some reason, he’d decided to take a chance on us.
Somehow, he’d sensed that my pride was at stake and that I didn’t trust easily, so he’d left that night, returning the following day with news of a cheap apartment nearby. Conveniently housing two rooms and fully furnished by the previous inhabitants.
In exchange for the money to pay two months upfront and a month’s deposit, he’d had a proposition for me.
Work at his exclusive patrons-only club, Rogue, in whatever capacity he needed me. I’d agreed almost immediately, sensing a kindred soul of some sort despite my trust issues.
