Edge of the Enforcer (7 page)

Maybe a lifetime.

“Agreed,” Abby said. Her tailored shirt and dark slacks were balanced out by the pale yellow hair curling in a froth around her face. “I’ve missed you both.”

Rona’s blue-green boatneck dress matched her eyes and enhanced her curves. She pushed her wavy blonde hair back. “Me too.”

“Me three,” Lindsey finished. With Abby’s new marriage and college job, the women hadn’t been able to get together often.

Abby looked Lindsey over. “What happened to the red-and-gold streaks in your hair? You look so sedate.”

Trust a sociologist to be observant. “I’m job hunting.” Lindsey’s mood took a dive. “And was apartment searching for a couple of days too.”

“Is the condo-sitting over? I thought Xavier’s friend wouldn’t return for another month,” Rona said.

“She wasn’t supposed to, except she got homesick and asked if I could move out early.” Lindsey shrugged casually. She’d had a signed agreement, but the woman had cried on the phone, and Lindsey hadn’t had the heart to say no. She knew what homesickness felt like. “I found a new place easy enough.”

Probably because no smart person would live there. Nonetheless, she had no job and couldn’t afford anything nicer. San Francisco rental prices were outrageous, which was why she’d jumped on condo-sitting. Sure, her friends would put her up, but she followed her daddy’s philosophy—don’t borrow what you can’t pay back.

“What day do you want us to show up to help you move?” Rona asked.

“No need. I’ve got it covered.” When she’d taken the condo, they’d helped move her newly acquired furniture into storage. Her stuff could stay there; she didn’t want her property in the dive. And no way would she let her friends visit her either. Shoot, there were fist-size holes in the living room walls. Outside, every corner had gangbangers and drug deals and hookers.

Neither Abby nor Rona would think the little mouse who scavenged in her kitchen was cute—although he kinda was.

“Lindsey,” Abby said. “You know we’re happy to—”

“Look. My hair still has some color,” Lindsey interrupted. She lifted her long hair, showing the purple underlayer. “See? It only shows if I put my hair up.”

“That’s quite a dark purple,” Rona said. “Are you in mourning for the job or the condo?”

Mostly for the wretched memory of a sweet night gone bad. “Neither. The condo was lush but awfully fancy for my comfort.” And too much like Victor’s carefully decorated house, where everything had been bought to impress. Lindsey swirled the remnants of her drink in her glass. “And the temporary receptionist position wasn’t a great job, even though the people were nice.”

“You always think people are nice,” Abby commented absentmindedly as she waved to get the attention of their waitress.

Rona turned, lifted a hand, and the waitress trotted over. “Another round, please, and the check,” Rona said.

Abby glared. “I don’t know why waitstaff will respond to you and not me.”

“Charge nurse, nursing supervisor, hospital administration,” Rona said. “I’m always giving orders. You have no idea how wonderful it is to sometimes hand all decisions and control over to Simon.”

Abby smiled. “Actually, I have a rather good idea.”

For one whole night, Lindsey had felt that wonder. Had wanted to give deVries anything he asked for. With a sigh, she lifted her glass and finished off the watered-down cosmopolitan. The alcohol hummed in her blood, making her feel sentimental. And glum.

“Sweetie, you weren’t at the club last night.” Abby tilted her head. “I saw you leave with Zander last weekend. I’ve been waiting to hear how it went.”

Even as Lindsey’s mouth flattened at the jerk’s name, she felt a flush heat her cheeks. “Not much to say.”
Best sex of my life, worst putdown of my life.

“Not a good evening?” Abby didn’t sound surprised.

Everyone knew the hard-core sadist never stayed with a submissive.

I knew he didn’t.
And his spending the night had seemed…wonderful. Special.
Yay me.
“His jets were revved after a scene with johnboy, so he called in my debt from last summer. He just wanted to…to get off.”

“That’s damned cold.” Rona curled her hand around Lindsey’s.

Lindsey’s eyes burned with tears. As the eldest, she’d always watched out for her two sisters and flighty mom. How strange—and wonderful—to be on the receiving end.

“Here you go, ladies.” The waitress handed out the drinks and gave the check to Rona.

When Lindsey dug in her purse for money, Rona shook her head. “My treat tonight.”

“You paid last time.”

“After you land a job, you can take us out to celebrate. All right?”

Pride warred with practicality before she nodded. “I guess so.”

“You sure had a wretched week.” Abby’s face filled with sympathy.

“At least the week is over.” Her smile felt a bit twisted. “And I’ll stay away from deVries.”

Rona straightened. “Did he hurt you?”

Oh spit, her declaration hadn’t come out right. “Just my feelings. Physically, he pushed my limits some, but”—and wasn’t it hard to admit?—“I liked it.”

“I know how that can be,” Abby said.

Rona nodded. “All right, then.” She picked up her drink in a toast. “Here’s to Lindsey finding a fantastic job.” As the glasses clinked together, Rona added, “Take your time finishing your drinks. I’m going to text Simon not to pick us up for a while.”

Close to an hour later, Rona’s husband appeared, striding across the room as if he owned the place. He didn’t, did he? Her head a bit muddled, Lindsey tried to remember. No, he had an international security business. No bars.

Of course, Abby’s husband, Xavier, probably owned some bars, and he’d look right at home in this swank establishment.

DeVries wouldn’t. Considering the faded leathers he wore, the bouncers might not even let him in. Nope. He was a total loser.
Jerk. Asshole.
She took another sip of her drink. No more thinking about the creep.

When Simon reached the table, he slid his fingers into Rona’s hair, tugged her head back, and the possessive kiss he gave her made Lindsey’s chest ache.

She loved knowing her friend had such an affectionate, territorial husband, even if it emphasized how alone Lindsey was. Yanking her gaze away, she bent over, looking for her purse. They shouldn’t keep their designated driver waiting, especially since he’d been nice enough to come inside to get them.

To her surprise, Simon dragged a chair from the next table and sat between her and Rona. He lifted Rona’s glass. “Should I even ask how many of those drinks you’ve had—let alone what they are?”

Rona smiled. “I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Simon took a sip and winced. “You have a point, lass.” His laugh was dark and easy, like a smooth scotch as opposed to deVries’s rotgut, harsh laugh.

So why did Lindsey crave deVries’s?

Simon set the drink down with a thump and turned to Lindsey.

She flushed as she was treated to the intent regard of one of Dark Haven’s most experienced Doms. “Rona says you’re job hunting,” Simon said.

Lindsey couldn’t help the accusing look she sent her friend. Discussions between the women were supposed to be secret. Well, okay, job hunting wasn’t particularly confidential, but still…

Simon’s lips quirked. “Maybe I can help your search, since Xavier and I know quite a few business owners. Have you attended college or taken any training?”

God, how could she explain? Her thoughts tangled as she backtracked through the lies she’d used. Should use. Had she told Rona—

“Lindsey?”

Under his dark, intimidating gaze, she blurted out the truth. “I have a master’s degree in social work.”

Abby gasped.

“I’d only been working for a couple of months when”—
when I fled, leaving everything behind
—“when I left Texas.” Just ahead of being arrested for murder.

Simon frowned. “With that kind of background, why are you a receptionist?”

“I…I don’t want to be found.”

“The divorce was bad? Did he try to hurt you?”

Divorce
. Abby and Rona must have disclosed her lies. If only an angry ex-husband was all she was running from. She shivered. “Oh yes.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed…as did Rona’s.

Abby put a warm hand on Lindsey’s forearm.

Aw heck, she was making a hash of this. Lying wasn’t in her skill set. “I think eventually he’ll forget about me.” Her assumption was valid…since he was dead. Regrettably Victor’s brother was the police chief; he’d never forget. “Meantime, I’m playing it safe”—real safe. Even her name and social security number were falsified—“and not leaving a trail by requesting school records or résumés. Instead, I take crummy jobs.”

After another moment of study, Simon moved his chair, positioning himself knee to knee with Lindsey. He took her hands in his heavily callused ones. His eyes were steady. “Tell me about your work experience.”

She glared at Rona. “Next time you arrange an interview, would you set it up for
before
I’ve been drinking?”

Rona and Abby burst out laughing.

Simon’s fingers tightened. “Answer me.”

God, the low command sent a quiver down her to her toes. His gaze stayed on her face as she swallowed against the sudden dryness.

Be honest. Don’t put him on the spot with his friends.
“Okay, it’s like this. I think I’m good at counseling, and people who worked with me said I was great.” On the other hand, she’d only had a couple of months’ experience. “As a receptionist, I did well enough, even though I hadn’t used some of the software. My boss says she’ll be happy to give me a reference.”

Her sister had scolded her before for being too modest. Had said she should never run herself down.

Someone else had no problem making her feel like scum.
“Debt paid.”
Damn deVries.

“I might not have much office experience; however, I learn quickly, I’m smart, I’m organized, and I’m good with people.” There, that sounded nice. Maybe too boastful?

Simon squeezed her fingers and let her go. “Very well laid out. I’ve seen how easily you handle the desk at Dark Haven.” His measured gaze moved over her, as if weighing her in his mind. “Let’s try this. My executive assistant needs to work part-time for a couple of weeks. She hasn’t found anyone in-house to assist her—at least not one she likes. Possibly she’d get along better with a smarter, less experienced person. Would you like a crack at it?”

Her ears followed his words; her brain lagged behind. The fact her lungs ceased working didn’t help. After a second, she wheezed, “Did you just offer me a job?”

“This is the first time I’ve interviewed someone in a bar, let alone an applicant who wasn’t remotely sober.” His mouth curved up. “Yes, Lindsey, I offered you the chance to see if you can impress my admin. If you can’t, no harm done. Either way, I’ll help find you something. However, this would bring you in some money while you’re searching for a better match.”

“It’ll work,” she promised him and a smiling Rona.
It will damn well work.

Two hours later, a horrifying thought brought her upright in bed.

DeVries worked for Simon.

Chapter Five

On Friday, deVries stepped off the elevator at the eleventh floor and walked around the corner. He’d gone straight to the Demakis offices after a long week of bodyguarding the prissiest, bitchiest movie star he’d ever met. And he’d met quite a few. He’d thought he was fairly easygoing, well, not really—but Jesus, by the time the week ended, he’d considered paying her stalker to take her out.

To top it off, she’d thrown a tantrum at his announcement he was leaving. When his replacement, Marley, looked as if she were considering walking out, damned if he hadn’t fled like a wimp.

As he shoved open the door to the offices of Demakis International Security, he shook off his irritation. At least he’d be in San Francisco for a while. He could visit Dark Haven tonight and find someone to play with. Maybe johnboy or HurtMe. Or Dixon might be available, even if the submissive couldn’t take as much pain.

After a good S/M session, deVries could fuck his brains out with a willing female.

His mouth tightened as he remembered the previous week. The innocent-looking, cute…
money-grubbing
…submissive. Been years since a woman had taken him in so thoroughly. Yeah, she was
good
. Might even have a bit of a conscience left, considering the guilt on her face when he’d asked if her ex was in a ritzy place like hers.

Did some women have a biological glitch making them more mercenary than men? They might appear loyal at first, but wave a wad of cash in front of them and some would sell out their own kin.

Or, in the case of his mother, her son.

As he stepped into the reception area, he stopped abruptly. “What the fuck?”

Lindsey, the Texan with a calculator for a heart, sat at the admin’s desk. “Mr. deVries.” Expressionless, no light in her wide brown eyes. Her voice was icy. “Mr. Demakis said you were to go straight in when you arrived.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Working. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Guess so.” He set his hands palm-down on the desk and leaned into Lindsey’s space. “I don’t like you.”

The tiny lines around her eyes flinched, but she didn’t move. Didn’t evade his gaze. Didn’t display fear, and he had to give her props for that. A pity she’d be afraid very shortly when he—

“Zander, I’m glad you’re back,” Simon said from behind him. “How did you enjoy Los Angeles?”

DeVries turned, and his boss’s knowing smile pissed him off good. “Did you know what a bitch your so-called star is?”

“Of course.” Simon motioned him into his office and said to the Texan, “Take an hour for lunch. Mrs. Martinez is on her way up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Without looking at deVries once, she bent over, digging in a drawer in her desk. Her desk.

DeVries dropped into a chair in Simon’s office and glanced around. Creamy carpet. Off-white walls. Yet the mahogany desk, leather furniture, and colorful abstract art kept the place from the frozen feeling of the Texan’s fancy condo. “You hiring Dark Haven subbies now?”