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Layla washed off all the makeup from earlier, and her hair is starting to curl as it dries. I can see a slight bruising under her eyes now, and I frown. This week has been non-stop work. Kyle’s an asshole for setting this pace for us.
I’m so glad that he’s gone now.
“Let’s do this,” Layla mutters as the phone starts to ring. It’s on speaker, and every shrill tone makes my skin crawl. Ready or not, here we come.
LAYLA
I’m wondering if the number is just going to go to voicemail, when it’s finally answered.
“Yeah,”someone barks.“What do ya want with me then?”
“I don’t believe it’s what I want at all, but what you want with me,” I say coldly. “Is this Seán O’Brien?”
My hand is in my lap now instead of Draven’s warm hand. I need to be able to think, and he just smells so damn good. Damn, I really want cinnamon rolls now.Focus, Layla.
Taking a quiet, deep breath, I wait for the man on the other end of the line to finish seething.
“Who the fook is this, and how did you get this number, you little twit?”he growls.
“Layla Campbell, and I received a practically engraved invitation,” I say airily. Draven looks ill as he watches me, while Tyler merely smirks in amusement. If Seán really wants to see me, he’ll expect a girl with a backbone, willing to push back a bit.
“Layla,” he murmurs.“Yes, you’re right, I have been looking forward to speaking to you. You’re awfully cheeky, though. Should your uncle suffer for that, I wonder?”
“I would prefer he be returned in one piece, without any extra holes or anything,” I tell him, swallowing hard. I’m thankful it's inaudible, and I struggle to remember to breathe.
“You’ve got moxie,”he mutters.“I’m Seán, and you are the key to your uncle’s continued existence.”
“May I ask what you want with me?” I ask him. I’m trying to be strong, but knowing that I may be the only thing keeping my uncle alive is hard to swallow.
“I want to meet you, and I have a proposition. I understand you’re on tour right now, what is your next stop?”Seán asks. I’m sure the question is just for show, because the tour is posted on my website and various places on social media.
“I’m leaving for Chicago tomorrow,” I acknowledge slowly. I’m not supposed to know where he lives, so he may feel extremely smug about this. I’ll let him have it.
“Where is your hotel? I just so happen to reside in Chicago,”he says.
“Is it possible for me to come to you? I don’t feel comfortable telling a man I don’t know that information,” I say primly. I sound just the right amount of innocent and Draven shakes his head at me.
“How old are you?”he asks suspiciously, and I have to swallow down a laugh.
What is with men being obsessed with my age?
“I’m twenty-six,” I tell him. “I don’t know my age has anything to do with my overall safety, though.”
“Nah, you’re right. I am the head of the Irish Mob, and I regularly have people executed. I’m not used to people trying to negotiate with me,”he chuckles.
At least he isn’t angry about it. I’m sure he could easily find out where I’m staying because it’s essentially his city, but I’m still going to do my best not to personally disclose it.
“I grew up in show business, everything is a negotiation, Sir,” I explain to him. “Uncle Jordan taught me that.”
I doubt humanizing my uncle will help when dealing with the monster on the other line, but I’ll fight dirty.
“The man’s a scoundrel,”Seán scoffs.“He asks too many questions.”
“He was worried about me.” I shrug. “Uncle Jordan wanted to make sure that night wouldn’t follow me, and look at where we are.”
“There’s more at stake than you know, and I am enjoying his hidden talents at the moment. It would be a huge gesture of faith if you’d come to my club tomorrow night,”he tells me.“You don’t have another show until the day after, isn’t that right?”
I fucking knew it.Wiley old bastard.
