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He’s right. I’d be pissed as hell if he did something like this, and he’s never let Reagan affect the plans we have for the club. But I also really think I’m making the best choice here. For the club, the guys, and even for Evan and me. “I’m sorry. I should’ve discussed it with you first.”
No frivolities or justifications, just the truth. That’s the way it should be done. But I’m also not stepping the decision back, so I don’t offer any leeway.
He pushes his chair back and stands up, sighing. “You made this deal without me, so if this blows up, it’s on you. But given that you already slept with her, there’s a complicating factor here. That’s got to stop if she’s an employee, or even a contractor, and you need to keep that history under wraps. Any hint of nepotism will be damning to both of us. And your sleeping with an employee would look even worse. The last thing we need is to hand ammunition to the trolls on a silver platter. You’d be Jake McGibbons 2.0 overnight.”
I nod. “Understood.”
CHAPTER14
SAMANTHA
The knockon my door is loud and demanding. “Come in!” I shout from the kitchen, already guessing who it is. “It’s open!”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got for your best friend in the world? The one who is so concerned about you that she’s literallyearlyto our work sesh?” Luna asks, barging in.
She’s schlepping an oversized bag that’s covered with pins from anime conventions, wearing a tank top and sweats that’ve been chopped off at the knees, her blonde hair is hair piled up in a messy bun, and her black framed glasses are halfway down her nose. She honestly looks like a bit of a dumpster fire, but that’s pretty much her MO on a work day. You’d never guess that she’s large, in charge, and wildly successful in her own right, nor that she’s married to a man who basically shits dollar signs.
Luna drops her bag on my couch and then sits down on the floor with her legs crisscrossed, making herself at home.
I can’t fight the laughter her entrance triggers. If there’s one thing Luna never is, it’s on time. Ever. She’ll start her day with the best of intentions and then get lost in a world of her own making somewhere along the way and stop to scribble out plot notes or draw a scene for her graphic novel,Alphena. At that point, schedules become suggestions, and ‘seven o’clock’ becomes ‘sometime around sunset’.
“Concerned? That’s what you’re rolling with?” I echo. “And you’re not early, but you areonlyfifteen minutes late, so that probably qualifies for you.”
“Whatever,” she quips dismissively. “Spill the good stuff. Catch me up on the ‘Chance is a sex god’ storyline.” She throws her hands high in the air and sing-songs the teasing reminder of the description I gave of Chance before pushing her glasses up her nose so she can hear better.
Yeah, that makes sense when it comes to Luna.
I set a bowl of popcorn and my huge, insulated tumbler on the coffee table, then curl up in my favorite chair. “Shouldn’t we work first? Our forty-five/fifteen deal only works when we do the work part first.”
Luna and I have been doing these sprint sessions together for years at this point. I study, she draws, and then we take breaks to stay fresh, but we always start with work. Always.
“Rules, schmules. Spill it or I’m going to start talking about art.” When I don’t immediately give in to her threat, she starts, “Michelangelo’s famous David sculpture notably represents the biblical subject pre-battle with Goliath, a distinct difference—"
“Okay, okay... stop!” I shout, covering my ears with my hands and closing my eyes to tune her out. “You know I hate it when you go all tour guide on me.”
I feel a nudge on my knee and crack one eye. Luna’s glare is amplified by her glasses, and I can see the one raised brow above her frames. Most importantly, her mouth isn’t moving, which means she’s not talking about art anymore. Thank fuck!
She’s a great tour guide, I’ll give her that, but I have zero interest in her favorite subject. Which is kinda ironic because back when we met, she was a virgin and I was planning my career as a sex and relationship therapist. Opposites attract isn’t only about romance, but friendship too.
As I lower my hands, Luna’s in her rarely-seen boss-babe mode, forcefully telling me, “You wanted this sprint, and I don’t think it’s because you need to study. You don’t have a test for weeks.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, my brows furrowed in surprise at her utter certainty of my schedule.
“I know everything. Including that youwantto talk, so quit stalling.” Luna’s right, about all of it, but I’m also really proud of her personal growth to call me on my own shit. She used to be painfully shy and the barest side-eyed glance would make her self-conscious for days, but now? She’s a beast. A quiet, sweet one, but a power house nonetheless, writing her own ticket for her work, but also her time and attention.
So I get to it. Because when the nicest person you know tells you that you’re wimping out, she’s likely being overly gentle and you’re actually being a full-out fucking coward. And I am not one of those.
“I had a really shitty day a couple of days ago. Jaxx and I were doing a party, and it was going sogood. We were selling hand over cocks” —I mime jacking off a dick— “right up until some assholes with legs decided to play whack-a-dick with our merchandise. They stole some too, running out with our toys like dine-and-dashers bailing on a hundred-dollar tab.”
She interrupts to ask, “Do you need some funding to replace those? Loan or gift, I’ve got you, girl.”
I smile softly at her generous offer. We used to be equally broke—for real, one brick of Ramen noodle split into three meals for the day, pick a bill to pay and pray for the rest kind of broke. Now, she’s so bankrolled that she doesn’t even call it money anymore. It’s funding, because she works in the seven-figure arena at a minimum for deals. But she’s still my best friend who’d do anything for me. Including paying for my stolen fake phalluses.
“Thank you, but Jaxx and I have a plan to get outta the red.” The immediate worry evaporates from her eyes, and I continue with my update. “But there’s some good luck in the bad circumstances because Chance called me. Finally.” At Luna’s questioning look, I explain, “The thieving assholes were his guys, and it pissed him offbigtime. He raked one of the guys up one side and down the other so badly he needed Neosporin for the burn, and then he called me to meet so he could apologize.”
“That’s nice.” Luna’s working hard to give nothing away, but I know her too well and can see that she’s foaming at the mouth to say what she thinks about Chance’s reaction. But I’m sticking to the point of today’s sprint session, which admittedly isn’t only work for me.
“He feels like some of the guys aren’t getting the messages he’s sending and that maybe hearing it from the source is a way to beat it into their heads. This one . . .” I tap my head. “Not this one,” I circle over my crotch region. “So enter Samantha, the Man Educator.”
