French Connection Vol. 1

  I scowled. Damn Howard. “How far back is this going to set things?” Daniel grimaced and I almost said that I didn't want to know.

  “At least three weeks.”

  I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to massage my temples. Three fucking weeks because Howard had hired a company that did a half-assed job. The least the perverted fuck could've done was get this right.

  “And, Sir? There's something else.” Daniel sounded downright nervous now.

  I opened my eyes. “What is it?”

  “The custom-made chrome and glass finish that you wanted for all of the walls has been delayed. The manager of the company called me this morning and said that they'd gotten in a rush order from another customer, and since we hadn't put a rush on the finish...”

  “Our order gets delayed,” I finished the statement. This day just kept getting better and better. Only the expression on Daniel's face kept me from blowing up. Rich men in positions of power often shot the messenger and I could tell that Daniel was afraid he and his crew were about to get fired for things they had no control over.

  “I can call around, see if I can find someone else who can do it,” Daniel offered.

  I shook my head. “It's not your fault. I'm pissed, but not at you.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I thought. “Figure out the date you'd need it. Call the manager back and tell him to have it ready on that day or he'll lose my business for good. If he names a price, haggle a bit, but pay whatever we need to pay to get it here on time.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Daniel said. He turned to go, then paused. “And, Mr. Manning, if I were you, I'd get someone to take a look at the wiring up here too. If it's as much of a mess as it is in your walls downstairs, you're going to need to have some work done. I don't know how that got past inspection.”

  “Unfortunately, I do,” I said. I didn't want him thinking I'd bribed anyone. “My former business partner dealt with the inspectors, as well as hiring the electrician and construction crews.”

  Daniel nodded in understanding and left without another word. It was too bad I couldn't hire him to do the construction in Cannes, I thought, as I looked down at the empty sheet of paper on my desk. But, if I decided to change things up here, he was definitely first on my list of hires.

  And speaking of France, I had a phone call to make. I hated the thought of asking Vincent to change the date of an all-expenses paid trip to France, but it was for Carrie and she was one of the only two people in the world I would do anything for. The very least I could do here was ask.

  I picked up the phone and made the call. Vincent answered on the second ring.

  “Gavin!”

  At least he sounded thrilled to hear from me, I thought. That was a good start. “Hope I didn't wake you, Vincent,” I said as I glanced at the clock. “I wasn't sure if you were out enjoying the night life.”

  “I was,” he said. “But I've been up for hours. You know how it is. Men like us never sleep.”

  I chuckled, then waited the appropriate number of seconds to transition from small talk to business. “I was actually calling about your invite to the Riviera.”

  “Great,” he said. “Do you need one ticket or two?”

  “Actually,” I said. “I was wondering if it'd be possible to postpone the trip a week, or at least a few days. My... business partner has a previous engagement that Thursday.” That was true. Carrie was technically my business partner.

  “Your 'business partner'?”

  I could hear the air quotes and knew I needed to be honest. “Yes, Carrie is my girlfriend, but she is also a partner at the club. She came on after my previous partner... left.”

  “But you are the controlling partner, correct?” Vincent asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I'd like to help you,” Vincent said with a sigh. “But it can't wait. I already have an appointment set up to check out the site. It's a hot property and that was as long as I could delay it. If I don't have an answer for them by the end of that week, they're going to move on to another buyer.”

  “I understand.” And I did. Business was like that. Time was money and things sometimes moved fast. “I'll double-check to see if there's anything that can be done from this end.” Even as I said it, I knew it wouldn't be possible. A congressman wasn't going to change his schedule so I could take my girlfriend to France to open a sex club.

  “Just let me know soon how many tickets to book,” Vincent said. “And best of luck.”

  “Thanks.” I was barely listening as I hung up the phone.

  I put my head in my hands. What was I going to do? I couldn't ask Carrie to miss the meeting with Congressman White. Aside from it being a great connection for her to have, this bill was important. What was my business compared to the lives of people in sex slavery? And my only other option was to go without her. It was a business trip, but I had no doubt that me going, alone, to France for a week to open a sex club wouldn't be healthy for our relationship. She trusted me, but we were already growing apart. My gut told me this could break us.

  I stood abruptly. It was too quiet in here. I couldn't think. I opened the door and the sounds from downstairs, though muffled, were loud enough to tell me that I wouldn't be able to work down there either. I scowled. Why couldn't we just go now? Drop everything and get on a plane tonight. No empty beds and notes. No dealing with this construction shit and what it could mean for the club. Just me and Carrie.

  I went out the back way, not wanting to risk Daniel stopping me to talk about something else going wrong. I pulled out my phone, ready to call for a driver, but as I stepped out into the warm spring day, I changed my mind. A walk might be exactly what I needed to clear my head.

  Before I'd gone two blocks, I'd come to at least one decision. This was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. With or without Carrie, I was going to France.

  Chapter 6

  Carrie

  I should've known, when my weekend ended with Gavin saying he couldn't get the dates of the France trip changed but that he was going anyway, that things were going to keep getting worse. Monday consisted of more fruitless attempts to reach Robyn, a call from the DA saying that they couldn't find her either and if she didn't testify, Little Tino was going to walk. Oh, and getting threatening calls from two different pimps had been fun. I’d ended that day grinding my teeth until my face hurt.

  Then there was Tuesday, when I spilled my morning coffee on my favorite work blouse, staining it and leaving me without caffeine until I could get a new cup. And, of course, there was the tension at home, even when we barely saw each other. It hung around us like a shroud.

  By the time I was sitting at my desk on Wednesday afternoon, trying to call Robyn for what felt like the thousandth time, I'd pretty much written off the entire week as a loss. I’d decided to forget this week and focus on the next, my excitement about meeting with Congressman White next Thursday the only thing keeping me sane.

  “Yes?”

  A familiar surly voice came across my phone.

  “Robyn?”

  A half-hearted curse answered my question and told me that I didn't need to bother identifying myself.

  “What do you want, Carrie?”

  I pushed down my urge to snap at her and reminded myself that no matter how grown-up she pretended to be, Robyn was a kid and the victim in this situation. She thought she was making her own choices, but I knew she was being manipulated by Little Tino.

  “I've been worried about you, Robyn. You haven't answered your phone for over a week.”

  “Yeah, well, no one asked you to be worried about me, did they? I know it sure as hell wasn't my parents.”

  I closed my eyes. This was bad. “I have been worried, I care about what happens to you.” I needed to say something to rebuild our trust. Plus, it wasn’t a lie. I really did care for this girl.

  “Right. All you care about is my testimony. You don’t give a shit about me.”

  I took a deep breath. “That’s not true, Robyn. I h
ope you don’t really believe it.”

  She scoffed, a keep exhale of breath. “Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. I am safe.”

  Worry thrilled through me. “What do you mean? Where are you?”

  “I’m with the one person in the world who really cares me. I’m with Little T.”

  If I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have fallen to the floor. Surely not, surely this girl couldn’t be that stupid.

  “Robyn,” I breathed. “Please tell me where you are, I’ll come get you. You have to get away from him.”

  She scoffed again. “I’m not going anywhere. This is where I belong.”

  “But, the court case…” I started.

  “Yeah, no. I’m not doing it.”

  I cursed silently and fought to keep my voice calm. “What do you mean you're not doing it?”

  “I'm not testifying against Little Tino. He's the only person who really cares about me.”

  “That's not true.” I knew I was repeating myself but she needed to hear it again.

  “Bullshit,” she snapped. “He's here when I need him. He takes care of me. He loves me.”

  “He doesn't love you, Robyn–” I started to say.

  “What the hell do you know?” she interrupted.

  My hand tightened around the phone. The only time I'd ever heard Robyn get that belligerent with anyone but her parents was when she was on drugs. Before I could ask her if she was using again, she went on.

  “You're so busy worrying about everyone else's life that you don't have one of your own. Probably haven't had a man in years and wouldn't know what to do with one if you did. You don't know what love is, because if you did, you wouldn't be after me like this.”

  I swallowed hard, trying not to let my voice show how much her words fed into my fears about Gavin and me. “Let me help you, Robyn. I can get you into rehab. Get you off the drugs and you'll be able to think more clearly then.”

  “Fuck that,” Robyn snapped, and then her voice softened. “Look, I know you think you're doing good, but it's pointless. My parents are pissed and won't pay for rehab. I go in some state one and Little Tino makes a couple calls to his buddies. You know what it's like, doing a train of thugs and addicts? It's not pretty. I'll pass on the rehab, the testifying and the parents who don't give a shit.”

  “Please, let me…”

  “Please nothing. Leave me alone.”

  Click.

  The call ended before I could finish processing what she'd just said or even begin to consider a response. I set my phone down and stared at it, myriad emotions coursing through me. At first, I was furious with Robyn. I'd worked my ass off getting her clean and running interference for her. Then my anger shifted to the appropriate people. Little Tino for seducing her and then turning her out. Her parents for not realizing that their daughter was more important than anything else.

  I picked up the phone and dialed her father’s office. He'd told me more than once to never call him at the office or on his landline. He had a special burner phone he used for everything relating to Robyn. He had to try to keep her out of the press as much as possible. If it had been for her sake, I would've applauded the gesture and followed protocol, but I knew better. He didn't want the media finding out what kind of a mess Robyn was and saying, however much truth there was to it, that it was all his fault.

  “Governor Leeds's office,” a professional-sounding woman answered after just a couple rings.

  “Hi, this is Carrie Summers. I've been working with the governor's daughter. I need to speak with him.”

  There was a long pause, as if the woman knew I wasn't supposed to be calling this number. “I'm sorry, the governor is out of the office for the rest of the week. Good-bye.”

  For the second time in under two minutes, I was hung up on. I was half-tempted to call her back, but I tried the burner number instead. The number was out of service. Well, I supposed that was one way to make it clear you'd disowned your daughter or gave up on her at least. I called the home, but got the answering machine. I didn't trust myself to leave a civil message, so I hung up without one and then debated calling the DA to give him a head's up about Robyn.

  “Carrie?” Zoe knocked and then poked her head in my office. The bright smile on her face gave me hope that something good was going to happen today. “Congressman White is on line two for you.”

  My eyebrows went up. The congressman was calling me directly? “Thanks, Zoe.”

  She grinned at me, gave me a thumbs up and went back to her desk. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I'd be face-to-face with this man in a week. A phone call should be nothing. I wasn't sure if I believed it, but it did settle my nerves a bit.

  I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Miss Summers.” A rich, deep voice came over the line. There was a smoothness and intentional cadence to it and I wondered how many speech coaches he'd had to get that sound.

  “Congressman White,” I said. “It's a pleasure to hear from you.”

  “I'm afraid you might not say that in a moment.” He laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that people did to let you know that they're actually half-serious. “I'm afraid I have some bad news.”

  Of course he did. I sank back in my seat.

  “First let me tell how much we appreciate everything you have done for this cause. I still want to talk to you about the bill, and human trafficking is very much an issue I care about.”

  I could hear the 'but' coming.

  “But due to the upcoming mid-term election, my advisors have suggested I wait until after the election to start touting new pieces of legislation.”

  I closed my eyes, seeing all of my hard work going straight into the garbage bin.

  “I don't want you to worry though. When I'm re-elected, this will be the first thing on next year's agenda.”

  “Thank you, Congressman,” I forced myself to say it even though I wanted to tell him how pissed I was, how I felt he was putting politics over human lives. If he did get re-elected, burning a bridge now in a fit of temper wouldn't help anyone.

  “Needless to say,” he continued. “We'll want to reschedule our meeting for a later time. No use talking over things now when it'll be a while before we can do anything about it.”

  “I understand.” My voice was polite, but I could hear the hollow note in it. I didn't understand, not really. I'd put everything in my life on hold for this and he wasn't willing to take a chance on it? It wasn't like this was something controversial like abortion or same-sex marriage. It wasn’t as if a big contingent of voters would be picketing to keep the sex slave trade going.

  “I look forward to speaking with you in the future, Miss Summer,” he said. “And I hope I can count on your vote come fall.”

  “Thank you for your time, Congressman,” I said automatically.

  I slumped in my chair, any hope I'd had for salvaging this week gone. The one thing that had kept me going for the past few weeks had been knowing that what I was doing would be placed into the hands of someone who could make a difference. Now, it was just words and pieces of paper. Although I'd spent days poring over them, perfecting them down to the last sentence… now, they would be read by no one.

  I lay my head on my desk and could have cried, but I was so depressed that I couldn't even muster up anything other than a mild annoyance.

  My cell phone dinged and I considered not even looking at it, but it hadn't been Gavin's ringtone, which meant it could be from anyone else. I picked up my phone and almost smiled. It was from Leslie.

  Leslie and Dena had worked with my former roommate, Krissy, and me at Webster and Steinberg. The four of us had been inseparable, but since Krissy had moved to LA and I wasn't working in the same law circles as Leslie and Dena, we hadn't seen each other as much as I wished we had.

  I read Leslie's text and then actually did smile. Hey, stranger. Want to meet Dena and I for drinks at Huggins? They're having a special mid-week happy hour tonight.

&
nbsp; I didn't even have to think about it. Absolutely. I needed a girls' night out.

  Chapter 7

  Carrie

  Being at Huggins Bar & Grill with Dena and Leslie brought back so many memories, not the least of which was this this had been the place I'd seen Gavin for the first time. Krissy had bet me I wouldn't get the phone number of the hottest man I'd ever seen. I had, and that had started it all. Huggins wasn't only about meeting Gavin though. My friends and I had come here all the time after work to kick off the weekend. Most of the time, it had been my only social interaction before going back to the apartment I'd shared with Krissy and shoving my nose in a book or writing a paper for school. The other three had always been the more social ones.

  Leslie was the most out-going out of all of us. Bubbly and flirtatious, she loved being the center of attention, but managed to not be obnoxious while doing it. Surprisingly, she and Krissy had rarely butted heads even though Krissy was just as head-strong. I always assumed it was because they usually had the same goals: find hot guys, fuck hot guys and move on.

  I smiled wistfully. Things had changed. Krissy had found her hot guy in Los Angeles, fucked him, but hadn't moved on. I was happy that Krissy had found love with DeVon, but it still made me sad that she was on the other side of the country. We talked, but not as often as we once had. I loved my other friends, but she was the closest thing to a sister I had. No matter how much Krissy and Leslie were alike, it wasn't the same.

  Then there was Dena. She was the quietest one of the three of us, but in a ruthless kind of way. She was the sort of lawyer everyone underestimated because she looked like she was twelve even though she was twenty-six. She’d walk into a court room looking like a school girl then massacre her opponent with an organized, brutal argument. I was always thankful she was on my side.

  Unlike Leslie, with her brilliant red curls and enviable curves, Dena was a quiet kind of beauty. She kept her white blond hair in a short pixie cut and, with her pale gray eyes and fair skin, she looked like she should be the poster child for some sort of snow fairy. Not that I'd ever say something like that to her. She was kind of scary sometimes.