AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Leaning against the doorjamb, I kick off the right heel and then the left before sliding into the office with more guts than a barefoot woman should have when approaching a den of cobras.
The first thing I see is Blake sitting behind the desk with a Bluetooth earpiece on. I send him a grin, and he glances up in time to hold up a finger to tell me to hold on. He murmurs something to whoever is on the other end of his call, and I nod in understanding.
He’s always so serious.
Part ofthe family, Blake works as the big bad’s assistant, so it’s not exactly a job designed to inspire a lot of laughs and giggles. I’m going to crack him one day. Mark my words. The poor kid needs a little joy in his life. Don’t we all?
I drop a donut on his desk, and he slowly peels his eyes from the dessert to me.
“Yes, we’ll chat later. Yes, thank you. It’s all in hand,” he says before he ends the call. “Aria…” He trails off, looking beleaguered.
I wink. “Chocolate frosted?” I ask. “It’s such a simple flavor I’m not sure why I didn’t think about it until now.”
He eyes me and takes a bite, chewing slowly.
“I’m going to find out your favorite. I don’t think this is it, though. You’re giving me the same kind of reaction, the same vibe, as the glazed.” It was a small matter to stop on the way from my place to headquarters, grab a couple of donuts, and set one aside for Blake. I’d shoved the other into my mouth on the drive over as if it would somehow do what the quick bean flick had not.
Alas. I’m stuck feeling too aroused for my own good.
Blake stays stoic. “You’d never know you were Broderick Stevens’s right-hand woman by the way you behave,” he says at last.
Now, most people who don’t know Blake would take those words as an insult. Not me.
“That’s the point, my dear friend,” I tell him gleefully. “I’m the sunshine in this place. Where would you be without the little levity I bring?”
I’ve got my own setup in the corner, away from Blake’s desk and separated by an expensive imported silk screen so no one has to see what they call “my mess.” The space I was given to bring the Black Market Syndicate’s dark web operations up and running is basically nothing, not compared to the rest of the opulence of this building.
Still, it’s mine. All mine and decorated with junk and Funko Pop figures.
Even the opulence in this room, from the artfully chiseled designs of the marble fireplace to the velvet drapes and solid gold curtain rods.
I mean, it’s chic and over the top.
Totally too much.
I’ve got a tiny corner of it. And I’ve grown a sharp underground group from the ground up, both key hackers and wealthy clients looking for new avenues to make money. The mess is my muse, I like to say when people complain. I’ve got to have little trinkets around me to fill the space; otherwise, I’ll go out of my mind.
Blake, on the other hand, is just as tidy as Broderick. The two of them are like peas in a pod if the pod had nothing inside of it.
Blake doesn’t finish the donut. “Were you seen?” he wants to know. “When you went out today?”
When I went out…and sucked off a detective. Partially to quell his suspicions and partially because, well, damn it, I wanted to. I wanted to step outside the lines, do something a little crazy. And Detective Bishop is crazy hot.
I drop down in my seat and twirl, craning my head to look at Blake. “You know, some days I forget who is the assistant and who is the master.” I point to myself, mouthing the wordsit’s me. “Of course I wasn’t seen. Are you crazy, Blake? I know how to keep a low profile.”
“You were the one who insisted you had to go see what happened to Everett,” he replies with a sniff, as though he can’t be bothered to engage in any kind of verbal sparring. “You can’t just take my word on it. The man is dead. As dead as anyone else.”
“I know, I know. But he was one of mine, and I’m like a momma bird. I needed to see him.”
Blake is about as pleased with my excuse as a person who just discovered they have hemorrhoids would be.
I catch a glance at the clock on the wall and curse.Shit.
I’m supposed to sit in on a board meeting, and I haven’t had a chance to do…anything. Not change, not wash my mouth out, nothing.
“Quick. Toss me the donut.” I gesture for Blake to hand it off as I scramble for a hairbrush, a scrunchie, something to get my hair in order.
“You’re going to get chocolate all over your face,” he warns. “I’m sure you already had one, too.”
