“He wants to see you in his hotel office.”
My stomach falls to my feet, and the earth tilts.
I hear Harris mumble, “Damn it,” and seconds before I fall down, he grabs me and brings me to my feet.
“I’m fine.” I try to push him away, but he doesn’t listen and for a few precious seconds I lean on him. He’s strong. I feel hard muscle under his shirt. The way he’s holding me isn’t sexual, and it’s a very odd, almost comforting feeling.
“You’re not fine,” he whispers, those knowing eyes of his searching my face. For what? “Come with me, Athena. Let me take you from here. Let’s leave.”
If it weren’t for his two arms around me, I would probably slide to the ground. What the fuck? “Are you insane?” I ask. “He’d kill us both.”
“I can protect you.”
I hesitate for a second, pretending his offer was real and possibly just that easy. But I’m not new to the way this game’s played. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to trick me. I’m not stupid.”
I push him away and start walking toward the hotel, but my legs are weak and wobbly. Within a few seconds, Harris falls in step beside me.
“I’m sorry, that was out of line,” he says.
“Damn straight.” I wish he wasn’t walking with me. I need time to get back inside my head, to prepare for the meeting I have facing me. I don’t allow myself to think about why Mike wants me. There’s nothing good that will come from trying to figure it out.
However, instead of building up the wall I need to face Mike, the wrong thoughts run through my head: Isaiah and how much I really want to have lunch with him tomorrow, Harris and how in the deepest, darkest place in my soul, I want his offer to run away to be for real.
Fortunately, he doesn’t talk anymore on the way to the hotel, and I manage to pull together somewhat of a breezy, I-don’t-care attitude once I make it to Mike’s office. I turn and look over my shoulder.
Harris is texting. I can probably guess what it says.
She didn’t fall for the ‘Let’s run away’ ruse.
I glare at him. Bastard.
Chapter Six
I find I’m unable to keep up my nonchalant attitude once I knock on Mike’s office door in the hotel. I’m visibly shaking. I wish more than anything I could stop so Mike won’t know how terrified I am to see him again.
“Come in,” he calls in reply to my knock.
I open the door and find him standing in front of his desk, arms crossed. I drop my eyes to the floor.
“Athena. Have a seat.”
I risk a peek through my eyelashes. He doesn’t look particularly angry. Maybe this won’t go as badly as I fear. My breathing comes easier.
“Have a nice walk?” he asks and I gasp.
He nods toward a chair. “Sit.”
I sit in a modern-looking chair that reminds me far too much of last time in his other office, and close my eyes. The shaking is even more pronounced. My entire body is one violent tremor.
“I believe I asked you a question.”
I wonder if it hurts to die. “Yes, Sir, I had a nice walk.”
His footsteps echo, but I keep my eyes closed, my head down, and count his steps. He moves ten steps away from me. Toward the window, if I remember the layout of this office. The room grows silent. After a few minutes, all I hear is the beating of my heart, the whoosh of air from my lungs, and the steady hum of his office refrigerator.
“I had an interesting conversation this morning. Led to an even more interesting request.”
I can tell by the sound of his voice that he isn’t facing me. I lift my head and open one eye. He’s looking out the large span of picture windows, his back to me, arms still crossed.
This time, I tell myself I won’t speak unless he asks me a direct question. I can’t let him goad me into blurting out the first thing popping its way into my head.
I don’t care. I don’t care.I don’t care.
I repeat my mantra a dozen times, but the truth is, I do care. If the conversation and request didn’t concern me, I wouldn’t be in this office. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from asking. He turns to face me, and even though I know better, I keep my eyes on him.
His smile is ugly.
“That must have been some performance you put on for Theo.” He walks back toward me, and I force myself to keep my gaze steady. Focus on my breathing. “Much better than I would have expected after you were so horrifically late.”
His words brought it all back: the meeting with Isaiah, the shock of seeing Harris, Theo’s hungry gaze. I swallow hard.
Mike has reached me now, and he strokes my hair. “Hearing him talk reminded me of our early days.”
I close my eyes against the onslaught of memories, but it does me no good. His fingers brush my cheek. “Remember?”
I don’t want to. I don’t want to remember the me who once was. How I’d looked at Mike like he was the answer to all my problems. How he seduced me into thinking he could do anything for me.
“Our first night.” He is insistent today, and his fingers slide under my shirt. “You were so shy. You were perfect.”
And he’d been gentle. I’d thought I was the luckiest girl on earth. Little by little, as he drew me in, he’d lost that gentleness.
“That night in the moonlight,” he continues. His breath tickles my neck and my skin crawls, but I hold still. “Remember?”
I find myself sinking further and further into the depths of who I am. Slowly, my mind answers Mike’s request and his relentless fingers. I am sixteen again, completely consumed by what I think will be the easy life. I am naïve and willing to do anything to charm the man I think will help me obtain that life.
“The first night I gave you to another. Remember?” he asks, and Isaiah slips away completely. The hands under my shirt grow rough.
“Yes,” I whisper against the pain of the memory.
The hands stop. “Good girl.”
He allows me a minute or two to compose myself, and it’s not until he steps away that I feel the tears on my cheeks.
“I think today’s walk will be the last of its kind for a bit,” he finally says, and I nod helplessly.
“Besides,” he continues. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about this morning.”
I don’t dare ask about the request. Instead I watch him walk to his desk and sit down.
“Theo was quite taken with your performance.” He leans back slowly in his chair. His smile is still ugly. “He’s going to be in town for a few days working with the new operation.”
It would probably be a good idea if I knew what operation he was talking about, but at the moment, I’m too sore, tired, and emotionally drained. I just want him to spit it out and get on with telling me so I can go back to my apartment and take a nap.
“Once more I’ve decided you’re out of the general rotation.” He examines his well manicured fingernails. “Though not for the same reason as last time.” He casually looks my way, and I can tell he notes my shiver at his sly reminder of what happened the last time he had me in his office. “Theo has asked for you to attend to him for the next week and I’ve accepted. You’ll serve him exclusively starting tonight.”
I work to keep my face unreadable. It’s not an unheard of offer. Several times in the past I’ve participated in such an arrangement. Like all things in life, there are good parts and bad parts to consider. Though of course, the choice isn’t mine to make.
“Well?” Mike asks. “What do you think?”
Normally, I’d reply with snark. Today, it would take too much effort. I only nod.
“And of course,” he continues, “you’ll get reimbursed. I think five hundred.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Five hundred dollars is nothing. It’s a carrot dangled in front of me. I know from times past if I try to collect the money, he’ll tell me he took ‘expenses’ out of it and pass me a twenty.
“Thank you,” I force myself to r
eply and I know there’s a bitterness to my voice.
“Never let it be said I don’t take care of my girls.”
There isn’t anything to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut.
He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a room card. “This will get you into the Player’s Suite.”
I raise my eyebrow. The Player’s Suite is the best room in the hotel.
He grins the same ugly grin. “I said I took care of my girls, didn’t I? I knew you’d like the accommodations.”
Actually, I like my own apartment, my own bed, my own sheets, my bookshelf, and my tub. His expression taunts me, practically begging me to say the smart ass comment dancing on my lips. I don’t give in. “How very gracious. Thank you.”
“There’s nothing gracious about it, Theo is paying dearly.” His eyes grow dangerous. “And you will too if this next week doesn’t run as smoothly as possible.”
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
He leans back in his chair. “Like I said before, there will be no more walks unless Theo asks you to accompany him. There will be no hanging out with Vicki. And most importantly, there will be no accidental meetings with Isaiah Martin.” He pops his knuckles. “Understood?” “Completely, Sir,” I say, not really surprised that Mike knows everything.
“For the next week, you belong to Theo and you are to do any and all things he requires. If he tells you to do something, you are to act as though I’m telling you myself.”
This isn’t anything unheard of. Mike has all his clients sign a contract stating they understand what is and is not allowed. Still, even after all these years, hearing him say it aloud makes me shudder.
“Yes, Sir,” I say again, but even I can tell my voice is lower.
“Good girl,” he says, and I swear if I ever leave Vegas no one will ever say ‘good girl’ to me again.
“Now.” He’s either completely unaware of my dislike of him or choosing to ignore it. “You look a bit rough. I need you to go rest and pack so you can show Theo a good time.” He nods to the passkey in my hand. “Be in his room by seven. Not seven fifteen or even five after. Seven exactly.”
When he turns back to his laptop and doesn’t say anything further, I stand and walk to the door.
“Athena?” he calls in the second before I leave his office. “Isaiah Martin doesn’t exist for you anymore.”
I nod.
“I need a verbal response so I can be sure you understand. Say it.”
I clench my teeth before replying, “Yes, Sir. I understand. Isaiah Martin doesn’t exist for me anymore.”
I am certain he hears the hatred in my voice.
Chapter Seven
I trudge back to my apartment, feeling four times my age. In my mind, I’m thinking about what I have to pack for the week ahead, and I grit my teeth. I won’t have any down time at all; at no time can Theo see me as anything less than the most desirable woman he’s ever laid eyes on.
“There you are. Where have you been?”
My head shoots up at the desperation in Vicki’s voice. Her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks wet.
“Vicki? You okay?” I fumble with my key and let us both inside.
She doesn’t answer until I close the door behind us. “Something’s going on.”
“What?” I ask, but her eyes dart around the apartment. “Vicki?”
“Do you think our places are bugged?”
“What? No,” I say, but my mind can’t rule out the possibility.
She bites her lip and turns on my kitchen faucet. “Come talk over here, they won’t be able to hear us over the water.”
“Are you insane?” But I walk over to stand by her anyway. “Now will you tell me what’s going on?”
She shakes her head. “Where were you?”
"I went out this morning and when I came back, I was summoned to Mike's office."
She drops her head low toward the water running into the sink. "Again?"
“I wasn't called the first time. I went of my own accord." I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with Vicki, but I don’t have a clue as to what her deal is. The last time I saw her, she wasn’t like this. It scares me.
But even more so, I’m scared about what will happen if I’m late tonight. I need to get my suitcase, pack, pull my shoes together, probably do my nails. And I really needed a nap. I glance back to Vicki, still standing with her head in my sink.
"I really need to get busy,” I tell her.
She doesn't move her head. "This early in the day?"
"I have to be at hotel at seven. Exactly.”
"How long?"
"A week. Now would you get your head out of my sink?"
She stands up and water drips from the ends of her hair. "You need to come over here.”
I’m not sure why I keep discounting her warnings. I blame it on the emotions of the day catching up. And the fact that Mike somehow knows everything. I decide some of the blame is Theo’s as well, because why not?
"Vicki, seriously, stop."
She leans further into the sink. "I'm telling you, something's going on."
I walk to my tiny closet and jerk out a suitcase. "You've been one of Mike's girls for eight, maybe nine years, and now all of a sudden, you're worried about someone bugging your apartment?"
"Honestly, I think — "
“Can we talk later? I’m exhausted and have too much to do to sit around with my head in a sink.”
She slams the one-handed lever on my faucet so hard, I’m surprised it doesn't fall off. “Fine. Later."
I sigh. Great. Now, I've pissed her off. Strike two hundred three for me today.
"Look." I reach out a hand, but she bats it away. "I'm sure I'll have some down time at some point this week. I'll talk to you then. I bet the Player's Suite isn't bugged."
Her lips tighten into a thin line. "I bet it is."
"Then maybe we'll have a chance to talk outside.” I walk to the door and open it.
She wipes an eye. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"I'm tired. I'm sore. I have to pack. Dealing with one more thing will send me so far over the edge, I may not find my way back."
"Of course," she says. "It's all about you anyway."
She leaves without looking at me again.
Chapter Eight
My time with Theo isn't that bad. Granted, it isn't all that good, but comparatively speaking, he’s not the worst I’ve been with. Not by a long shot. During the day, he works from the tiny office in the suite, and in the evening we go out.
Whenever we’re out in public, if he’s able, he keeps his hand on my thigh, as if I’m going to bolt if given the opportunity. Nights are nights. At times, he is rough and demanding. More often than not, I wake up tired and sore.
Halfway into our week, Theo opens the door to the bathroom and finds me soaking in the tub. I've just taken some ibuprofen and am trying to soak the soreness out of my muscles.
“We’re doing dinner downstairs tonight," he says, eyes skimming