The corner of Blake’s mouth lifted in a grim smile before she swallowed the last of her beer. Whatever these bullshit secrets were that Brooke was keeping from her butch, they were going to stop right fucking now. Blake wasdone. If Brooke was in trouble or, God forbid, had been doing anything that put herself at risk without protection or support at her back—and there was definitely a punishment spanking in the stubborn femme’s future if she had—she was going to learn right quick that neither she nor the rest of the APS management team would let that fly.
Blake had started referring to Brooke as “Tigress” lately because her femme was nurturing, fiercely protective, and territorial as hell. What she had done to keep Lulu Emerson safe—a fifteen-year-old sex worker being exploited by a local pimp—had left APS in awe. In addition to being kind, generous, and straightforward, Brooke was also a ferocious, fearless ball of Italian steel who would fight to the death if she perceived someone was being wronged or taken advantage of. Something that wouldn’t exactly keep her safe.
Tired, Blake shook her head and got up to throw her beer bottle in the recycle bin, then went into the master bathroom to take a shower after she had shut everything down. As she stood under the hot water, she racked her brain for clues about what could have triggered Brooke’s suddenly standoffish behavior. The APS femmesneverkept secrets from each other—just like the Seven and the Armstrong twins didn’t—so why was Brooke being so reticent with everyone lately? Clearly, whatever was going on was something she didn’t even want her girls to know, which—nuh uh. No fucking way. Blake wasn’t playing this shit with her anymore.
Once in bed, Blake stretched out and mulled over her thoughts for another moment. Tomorrow, she was going to ambush the pretty blonde before Brooke ever saw her coming, making it clear she wasdonewith her secrets,donewith her avoidance,donewith the sense of danger she could smell lurking around her. Brooke was going to spill every damn thing to her, no matter how hard she tried to prevent it.
And if she didn’t?Another humorless, predatory smile curled Blake’s mouth as she turned over to go to sleep. Her beautiful woman was going to find outexactlywhat kind of games the championship gamer and head of Utopia at APS knew how to play.
Chapter 2
“I hope it isn’t too late to call, Thom. Unless you or the rest of the guys have an objection, I’d like to spend tomorrow morning at Cask & Canvas.” Brooke Marino’s voice was chatty as she talked to the man who had hired her as the graphic designer for the microbrewery rebranding. “That way, I won’t be underfoot when you open for business, but I’ll be able to consider the concept art I’ve completed so far against the actual brewery setting. That okay?”
“Of course, of course.” Thom Geralt was jovial as his voice came through the speakerphone. “I must tell you again how very impressed we are with your work, Brooke. Clay was saying the other day he doesn’t think we’ve ever worked with a graphic artist who was as professional and had such an instinct for the craft beer industry as you do.”
Thankful he couldn’t see her, Brooke rolled her eyes and stuck her middle finger up at the phone. “Well, aren’t you sweet?” She kept her tone bright. “All these compliments are going to go straight to my head if I’m not careful. I will be there about nine-ish, which should give me plenty of time to accomplish what I’d like to do before the customers start coming in. See you in the morning!” She pressed the End button, then sat for a moment, thinking.
From the little she had been able to snoop around and learn, Thom Geralt and his thug partners were busy laying a foundation to embezzle the assets of Cask & Canvas—money, inventory, product, equipment, and more—and ruin the microbrewery before they disappeared into the night. Hired as the graphic artist in charge of the rebranding—taking the jobdespite her incredibly busy schedule—nothing had seemed out of the ordinary in the beginning. However, it hadn’t taken long for her suspicions that something was fishy to flare up.
After a few weeks, Brooke had become convinced the four men were nothing more than con artists who expertly ran embezzlement schemes under different aliases and that Cask & Canvas was their latest target. When she dug a bit, she found there was very little about the partners or their business online. Reflex Rebranding Group had a very simple website, which included a lot of marketing speak that said very little—Brooke recognized that the company’s contact email and phone number was that of Robert Hoyt, one of the partners.
It looked like the perfect setup to disappear down the rabbit hole overnight the minute they were done stripping a company or, for some reason, if things got too hot and they needed to rapidly vanish. Growling in frustration, Brooke acknowledged she didn’t have the know-how to peer beneath the aliases to find out who the partners really were.
Trillian Dacanay could, she admitted, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The lead data and technical analyst at Armstrong Protection Services—the head of what was called the Geek Crew and another one of the Seven—and her team could yank the masks off Thom and his crooks before she could say spit. Since her best friend Alyssa Riker was engaged to yet another one of the Seven, Jaime Quintero, and Trill’s wife was her close friend Nova, Brooke knew a lot more about APS and what they were capable of than the average person.
However, getting APS involved in this situation was out of the question. It was way outside the scope of their charter, and she refused to take advantage of her friendship with them. There were endangered and abused women out there who needed APS far more than she did—not just because some greedy dicks thought they were entitled to things to which they werenot.
Not for the first time, she wished hernonnowas still alive to counsel her. But Giancarlo would have likely told her to go to her friends to at least get their advice. She snorted. Since when did APS ever just sit back after simply doling out guidance, especially with someone they considered a friend? They would jump in it feet first, which would take time and attention away from their own clients.No way.Ignoring Blake Seibert’s face as it rose in her mind, Brooke decided to go to bed since she planned to get an early start in the morning.
She would use her onsite presence at Cask & Canvas tomorrow as an opportunity to casually find out more about Reflex Rebranding Group, if possible. Maybe one of them would slip and give her some kind of clue. As she continued playing her role of a graphic artist who wasn’t much concerned with anything outside of her projects in the microbrewery industry, her fingers were crossed that their superior male arrogance blinded them to the fact that Brooke was much, much more than some clueless woman.
More fool them.
?ω?ω?ω?
“Good morning,” Brooke sang out as she pushed through the front door of Cask & Canvas the next morning, feeling herself sink into the atmosphere as she always did. She loved the immersive experience owner Eugene Wheeler had created, with the actual brewery on full display behind a clear glass wall that separated the brewery from the taproom, and the wonderful local art displayed on the walls. “It’s good to see you, Gene! How is Sandy feeling?”
Eugene beamed at her from his position behind the bar. “So much better, Brooke, thank you for asking. Now that she has a clean bill of health, she’s been working on putting some weightback on and doing a bit of strength training to build up her stamina. We feel extremely blessed.”
Brooke laid her portfolio on top of the bar. “I am so glad to hear that. By the way, I don’t know the last time you talked to Thom, but I came in this morning to compare the concept drawings I made to the actual brewery atmosphere itself in person before you open for business. I promise to do my best to keep out of the way.” She glanced around casually. “Aren’t any of the guys here?”
“Jack is in the office, going over some financials. I was going to help him, but he said he didn’t need my assistance, not yet anyway.” Brooke felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Unless you plan to go back into the actual brewery itself, you won’t be in the way at all. Do you have a hankering to scrub a containment tank?” The older man grinned. “Rumor has it you’re an expert at it.”
Laughing, Brooke shook her head, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth. “I’ve done my time cleaning containment tanks for now, Gene. Microbrewery graphic design is much more fun. Besides, I’m hardly dressed for it.” She gestured down at her gray fitted sweater and simple black skirt. Deliberately choosing an outfit that morning that gave off the nonthreatening vibes of a woman who wasn’t much interested in anything beyond her graphic art, she smiled at the brewery owner.
“I can’t picture you up to your elbows, spattered with residual malt, Brooke,” said a new voice behind her. “You seem like the type who’s too delicate and fussy to do that type of work.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Brooke saw that Jack Webb had come up behind her. About five-ten, with shaggy brown hair, pitted cheeks, and a hooked nose that had clearly been broken at least once, his smile didn’t reach his dark brown eyes.Much likethe smiles of the rest of the Reflex Rebranding Group partners didn’t, as a matter of fact, she thought.You fucking prick. She made herself grin in his direction. “Well, good morning, Jack.
“Teaching myself about the microbrewery industry meant I needed to learn a bit about the not-so-fun parts as well,” she continued. “Truth be told, I think it made me a better graphic artist in this space. Did you talk to Thom? Did he tell you why I stopped in this morning?”
“He did. He also said you anticipated being finished with what you need to do and gone by the time we open today.”
Why the rush to make sure I’m out of here?Brooke wondered.Is there something special going on today that they don’t want me around for?Nodding, as if what Jack said was perfectly normal, she said, “I should be done well before you’re ready to open. Thom is always here so late; I won’t get an opportunity to talk to him directly today, but maybe you can tell him for me that I should have the final concept proposal done by the end of the week. He can call me when he’s ready to see it.”
Jack’s unsmiling eyes caught Brooke’s gray ones. “Though still a rare occurrence, it’s becoming more common for small beer brewers in this country to form partnerships with investors who have nothing to do with brewing. The Reflex Rebranding Group has its fingers in several different pies as a result, so we all keep some very unconventional hours.” The smile that appeared next felt a bit chilling. “Although this is one of our initial forays into the craft brewing space, I very much doubt it will be our last.”
Ignoring her screaming gut, Brooke made herself shrug casually. “I fell into the microbrewery industry quite by accident when I crafted a few custom beer taps for some friends of mine while I was in college and working in their tiny taproom. Lucky for me, it worked out great since graphic art design for microbreweries certainly hadn’t been on my radar. As a womanwho isn’t too interested in doing anything beyond that now—I have more than a few projects to juggle with my own firm—I’ll leave all that crazy business stuff to you and stick to my art.”
