I want to watch as he walks away, but Jaclyn’s disapproval is emanating off her in frigid waves.
“It’s really inappropriate of you to flirt with wedding guests,” she sneers as we roll our carts up the little ramp and into the van. “Glinda won’t be happy when she hears about this.”
“Mmm.” I press my fingertips to my cheek, right where Damiano’s lips were a moment ago. I feel warm, loose.
“Are you even listening? God, pay attention.” She holds out her hand. “Give me the keys—I’m driving.”
I don’t hand them over until I’m buckled into the passenger seat. She’d probably leave without me, if given half a chance.
6
SETH
The man sitting before me leans forward, his dark eyes hopeful. “Do you really think you can recover my father’s gold bars?”
I’m absolutely confident we can. Damiano and I excel at this sort of job.
“Before we start, Mr. Rodriguez, we’ll need to examine your paperwork, proof of ownership, all of those things.” I consider the slight man on the other side of my desk. “If everything is in order, Mr. Romano and I will send a team down to Venezuela. Our success rate is at ninety-one percent. I’m confident we’ll recover your father’s gold.”
Rodriguez frowns. “Point Ops has a ninety-five percent success rate.”
No doubt, our competitor fudged his numbers.
“But I’m here for a reason,” Rodriguez rushes to say. “I operate by more than logic, Mr. Colton. I operate by feeling, by passion. And Point Ops gave me no good feelings. Point Ops feels…untrustworthy. Nove feels much better.”
I’m tempted to share exactly what I think about Point Ops and the human shitstain they have for a CEO, but I keep a tactful half-smile on my face and say, “It sounds like you’ve come to the right place, then.”
“I agree.” Rodriguez stands. “Thank you, Mr. Colton. I’ll have my attorney forward all of the relevant information to you.”
Once he’s out of my office, I slump back in my chair, grinning to myself. Officially, Damiano and I started Nove three years ago. Unofficially, we’ve been running operations in other countries for almost six years. Our combined military training and Damiano’s bottomless investment funds have given us the ability to climb the ranks of civilian international recovery ops companies. There aren’t many, but we quickly rose to the top because we accept the small jobs along with the big ones. And when we do take a small job, we treat it as if it’s just as important as the big ones. Because to the client, it is.
Rodriguez will be happy he chose Nove because we’ll get the job done. Responsibly. Safely.
I pick up my phone and text Damiano. Landed the Rodriguez Venezuela job.
He responds. Good. Let’s celebrate by calling Miss M.
Motherfucker. He won’t let this go. I don’t reply.
You enjoyed that just as much as I did, he adds. I know you did.
I put my phone face-down on my desk. He’s right, but that was Madison. Not some random woman we bought at the auction. I know her. I’ve known her since she was eighteen. She was off-limits from the beginning because she was my little brother’s girl, and she will remain off-limits.
She’s off-limits even when my mind is conjuring images of her standing naked on that stage, her belly chain twinkling in the light, her gaze playful as she looked blindly into the audience.
Her shock when she saw it was I who won the bid.
The flare of arousal in her eyes when I told her to fuck Damiano.
Goddammit, now I’m hard. First Leah, now Madison. Why do I keep wanting the women I can’t have?
MADISON
The law office building is so big, I have to crane my neck to see the top. This is a far cry from my shitty apartment building on the other side of town. Cars whiz past on the well-kept boulevard. A woman in heels marches smartly past, her white, fluffy dog on a pink leash trotting along beside her.
I straighten the frayed hem of my button-up blouse. I wanted to dress up for this appointment, but my nicest dress is more suited for a club. The shirt I’m wearing is the one I wore to my interview with Glinda’s Catering last year. It wasn’t new then, and it certainly isn’t now.
I should’ve worn heels to dress up my outfit, but I didn’t want to splurge for a ride or have to pay for parking, so I wore tennis shoes and walked. My face is warm, and a trickle of sweat falls down my spine. Lovely. Just lovely.
