I don’t get it.I tilted my head to one side, searching through the documents for more information.
How can I be the CEO of a company I’ve never heard of? Why would Karlos set this up in my name without my knowledge?
What’s he playing at?
First, he uses dirty tactics to make me stay in Sydney, now he’s set up a mystery company in my name.Something feltverywrong.
I walked over and kicked the door shut, pulling out my second phone. Turning on the VPN, I searched for the name of the company. But there was nothing. Not a trace.
Weird.I took a few quick snaps of the documents, resolving to get someone to investigate this KWK company. I had to find out what was going on.
He was up to no good. I paced to the other side of the office and back, as I mulled over the possibilities, a chill seeped up my spine.
***
IVY
Miki had called last drinks for the night.
I placed a bourbon in front of one of the few remaining customers—a guy sitting at the bar.
As I moved away, he closed his hand over mine in a tight grip and stared at me fiercely.
“Hey, let go!” I cried. “What are you doing?” I tried to free my hand.
He appraised me from head to toe. “Hey, how about we have some fun together?” he slurred, squeezing my hand harder.
“Let go of me.” I pulled away as hard as I could, but to no avail. “Take your hands off me,rightnow!”
“You haven’t answered my question,” he snarled, not loosening his grip. His overgrown mustache hung over his crooked teeth.
My stomach churned as I scanned the room for help. The security guard was outside having his usual smoke.
Miki caught sight of me and charged in my direction, holding a steaming hot tray of glasses, her face scrunched with anger. “Get the hell off her,” she said, stopping alongside me.
His greasy mustache curled up as he broke into laughter, right before she brought the heavy tray crashing down onto his arm. He shrieked in pain, and I broke free from his vise-like grip. Leaping back and rubbing my hand in relief, I glared at him.
“Touch her again and I’ll call the cops. Now get out,” she said in a low voice, “and don’t come back.” Snatching a broom from near the counter, she waved it like a weapon. Still planted on the stool, he stared at her, malice flashing like poison.
Miki held firm, her piercing glare not wavering.
Someone cleared their throat behind us, turning, we saw Dan closing in. With arms folded across his chest like tree trunks, he glared at the guy and positioned himself in front of Miki and me.
“Listen to the lady. Get out, now!” Dan said, looming over him with his six-foot-four frame. “Touch any of the girls here again, and you’ll live to regret it. And don’t come back. Ever.”
Firing off a round of curses, he eyeballed Dan and finally skulked off.
Dan was getting on in years, but people didn’t mess with him. As I’d witnessed more than once since starting work here, if they did, they soon regretted it. He ran the place like we were family and never tried anything sketchy with any of us.
One night after we’d closed up, we sat down and had a few drinks with him. He told us, tears glistening, that he and his wife couldn’t have kids, and that we were the closest thing to daughters he’d ever had.
Dan rested his hand on my shoulder, making sure I was all right as Miki put some snacks and a drink on the bar for me and insisted on finishing the cleanup herself.
By the time Miki was done, the security guard—who’d been on his break when we needed him—had already finished his shift, so Dan walked us outside to the car. He scanned the parking lot to make sure Stool Guy wasn’t hanging around to cause more trouble.
“No one messes with my girls,” he said in a deep rumble. “And I’m sorry I didn’t come out earlier. I shouldn’t have had my earbuds in. As soon as I saw him, I came out. Now, you girls enjoy your time off. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Thanks, Dan.” We slid into the Honda, and Miki started the engine. As we pulled away, he waved from the sidewalk.
