Supplicants to the Jack usually came in one of two types: those who wept and begged and those who demanded. The man before her did neither. He didn’t even fidget.
The visitor’s chair was intentionally uncomfortable, intended to remind those who sat there that she had the power, not them. It hadn’t been Taryn’s idea—the chair was a carryover from the previous Jack, and maybe even the ones before him. Taryn had only kept it because it worked.
When he finally spoke, it was something she could never have imagined. “Free my sister from the Tremaine Corporation.”
“Oh, is that all?” The sarcasm slipped out because she was tired and her defenses were down. But since this man had no experience with her as the Jack, he likely wouldn’t recognize how unusual, how out of character that was.
He was the second Tremaine employee to cross her path in the last several weeks. Most corporate types avoided this part of town. For him to be here... Her gut said something was up with that company, something more than just the new CEO. Could she use this to her advantage?
“That’s a big ask.”
He nodded.
“Big asks don’t come cheap.” She watched him closely. Was this a trap?
“I realize that. Can you do it?” His voice was strained, a crack in his cool façade. There it was—this was personal.
Or maybe that was her imagination. He was a cool customer.
Could she do it? Probably, but drawing the attention of a corporation wasn’t something she did lightly.
She didn’t know much about the inner workings of a multinational like the Tremaine Corporation. Whispers said that there was a way to buy out a contract. Dizzie, a Tremaine courier who had used the Jack’s services, had definitely been working toward that. Personally, Taryn thought it was just for show. Letting people go wasn’t in the best interest of the company.
“If you have enough money to purchase my services, surely you have enough to buy out her contract.” Taryn watched him closely.
He flinched and lifted a hand to the back of his neck. He stopped halfway, clenched his hand into a fist and dropped it back into his lap. “That’s the problem. She doesn’t have a contract.” He paused, stared at his hand. “Sheisthe contract.”
“Well, shit.” The words whooshed out, tiredness once again getting in the way of her self-control.
“Yeah, that about sums it up.” He laughed bitterly.
“How did that happen?”
He met her gaze, unflinching. “Does that matter?”
“If you want my help, then yes, I expect you to answer my questions.” That was a hard line.
“She got caught in the middle.”
That was a non-answer if she ever heard one. She’d let him finish, but Taryn couldn’t see a reason to help him out. She wouldn’t go up against a corporation on vague answers. “I assume because she’s the contract, your sister can’t leave Tremaine Corporation on her own.”
He laughed, a bitter, angry sound. “Correct.”
“Is she in prison?”
He shook his head.
Taryn set her coffee cup aside, then leaned forward, elbows on the desk. He watched her every move and she didn’t speak until she had his full attention. “I don’t have time to play twenty questions, Mr. Jackson. If you’re going to waste my time, you can leave.”
“Cutter.”
“Cutter what?”
“My name is Ash Cutter. Not Eli Jackson.”
Before escorting him to Taryn’s office, Jenna had pulled the name from the credit chip he’d left at the bar. Another lie. Another strike against helping him.
She had to admit, though, “Ash” suited him better.
