The Infatuation (Josh and Kat #1 , The Club #5) (28 page)

“I can do that,” I say, my stomach churning. But
what I’m thinking is, “
Holy shitballs.
”

“That’s good,” Jonas says. “And Josh and I will
powwow and figure out our best strategy for the hand-off. I
agree—we’re going to have to turn this over to
someone
—but
to whom? That’s the question. If we put it in the wrong hands, we
might just buy ourselves an even bigger enemy than The Club.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, the hairs on my arms
standing up.

“It sounds like there are plenty of powerful people
on that client list who wouldn’t want this scandal to see the light
of day,” Jonas says.

Josh puts his arm around my shoulders and I lean
into him, shaking. This whole thing is making my head spin and my
stomach churn. “Holy shitballs,” I say under my breath.

“It’s all gonna come down to the money,” Jonas says.
“Money talks.”

“I agree,” Josh says, pulling me into him.

“Henn, that’s top priority, okay?” Jonas says.
“Track the money. Get access to it.”

“Roger,” Henn says. “Shouldn’t take me more than a
couple days.”

“We can do this,” Sarah says. “Look at the talent in
this room. We don’t need no stinkin’ George Clooney and Brad Pitt
and Matt Damon.”

“Yeah, but I sure wish we had that Chinese acrobat
guy,” Henn says. “He was cool.”

Finally, someone in this room who speaks my freaking
language.

“The one they stuffed into the little box?” I ask.
“I loved him.”

Henn beams a smile at me that instantly calms my
raging nerves. “Yeah, he was rad.”

“Yen. Wasn’t that his name?”

“Oh
yeah.
Good memory, Kat.” He taps his
temple. “Brains
and
beauty.”

I return his beaming smile. Thank God for Henny.

“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt your profound
musings, but I’m kind of getting tunnel vision here,” Sarah says.
“There’s a lot to do and I wanna get started right away.”

“Sure thing,” I say (even though I’m thinking “holy
shitballs”). “Whatever you need, boss.”

“Hey, Sarah,” Henn says. “One more thing. What do
you wanna do about Dr. Evil’s text to you?”

Sarah’s face turns bright red.

“I’m monitoring his phone, remember?” Henn says,
motioning to his laptop. “‘I’m not a patient man.’ What was
that
all about?”

Kat

Sarah sputters and stammers for a moment, clearly
incapable of responding to Henn’s question, so Jonas grabs her hand
and speaks for her, telling the group about how Max demanded a
“freebie” from Sarah yesterday at The Club’s offices and then
followed up with a creepy-skeevy text demanding she come
through.

“What should I do?” Sarah asks the group, obviously
wracked with anxiety. “Ignore him? Answer him? Hide?”

“Ignore him and hide,” Jonas says firmly. “I don’t
want you saying a fucking thing to that motherfucker.”

“I agree,” Josh says, clenching his jaw. “Ignore him
and hide.”

Finally, something I know a shit-ton about.
Men.

“No,” I say emphatically, straightening up in my
chair. “
Answer
him and hide. Ignoring him will piss him off,
and we don’t want to piss that guy off. We want to keep him calm
and confident and predictable.”

There’s a brief silence while everyone mulls over
what I’ve just said.

“Dr. Evil’s real boner isn’t for Sarah—it’s for
Jonas,” I continue.

“Jesus, Kat,” Jonas says, grimacing. “Please don’t
say it that way.”

I can feel Josh’s eyes trained on me, and suddenly,
I feel emboldened. I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer
when it comes to brainiac stuff like hacking and world politics and
legal research and figuring out how to take down a global crime
syndicate, but when it comes to men and PR, I’m flippin’ Einstein,
peeps.

“Not
sexually
,” I say. “He’s got an
alpha-male
boner for you, Jonas. This is all about a beta
silverback wanting to knock off the obvious alpha. He wants what
you’ve got so he can
win
. Hence, his Jonas-boner.”

“For Chrissakes,
please
stop saying that,”
Jonas says.

“So how should I reply to him, then?” Sarah
asks.

“We have to keep him off your back and convince him
you’re motivated solely by greed and absolutely
not
by
loyalty to Jonas,” I say. “The more he thinks your interests are
the same as his, the safer you’ll be. You’ve got to keep him
trusting you. If you ignore him, he’ll start getting paranoid.”

Sarah looks at Jonas and he nods like he’s in
agreement with everything I’ve said—and when I glance at Josh, he
nods encouragingly, a smile dancing on his lips—so I forge ahead.
“Tell Max not to text—Jonas is monitoring your phone,” I say, “and
he’s just on the cusp of giving you another humongous check. That
way, you play right into his egomania and also appeal to his greed.
No matter how much he wants his little freebie to satisfy his
Jonas-boner—”

“Okay, Kat, that’s enough,” Jonas cautions.

“—he won’t insist on it at the risk of sabotaging
the scam. We’ll just make Jonas out to be the bad guy and let Sarah
sound like she’s doing her best to manage him and keep the money
rolling in.”

Everyone’s staring at me, but no one’s saying a
word.

I glance at Josh again and the look on his face
right now is unmistakable: I’ve surprised him.

I shrug. “What? There are two things I know well in
this life—PR and men.”

Josh laughs a full-throated laugh and beams a
heart-stopping smile at me, quite obviously thoroughly
impressed.

“Nice,” Henn says, grinning broadly at me.

“Hey, I might be
dumb
,” I say, “but I’m not
blonde
.”

Everyone laughs and so do I—but the way Josh is
laughing and smiling is making me do more than laugh; it’s making
me sizzle and pop like Rice Krispies in milk.

Josh grabs my hand and squeezes it, his eyes blazing
at me. “Does everyone agree with Kat on this? Because I most
certainly do.”

Everyone expresses enthusiastic agreement with
everything I’ve said, and I feel myself swell with pride.

Josh leans into my ear, still squeezing my hand. “I
do believe this little fishy just went for a swim in the river.” He
kisses the top of my hand.

I look at him quizzically and he smiles broadly.

“Trust me, I won’t,” Sarah is saying in response to
something Jonas just said. “Now that I know that creep’s out there
watching me, I have no desire to leave the suite ever again. I’ve
got to hunker down and write my report, anyway. This is going to be
a huge job.” Sarah shakes her head. “This is so crazy.”

“It’s totally insane,” Henn agrees, exhaling
happily. “Isn’t it
awesome?
”

Henn and Sarah begin chatting about their strategy
for gathering the mountain of data and documents Sarah needs for
her report and my attention drifts to Josh. He’s staring right at
me, his eyes smoldering.

“Hey, Josh,” I whisper. “Can I talk to you for a
minute over there?”

“My pleasure.”

We move to a sitting area in the corner of the
suite, away from the rest of the group.

“What’s up, Party Girl with a Hyphen?” Josh asks. He
leans back in his chair, making himself comfortable.

“I got a really interesting email from my boss a
little while ago,” I say.

“Oh yeah?” he asks. “What’d it say?”

“It seems I’ve somehow managed to secure a huge new
account for my firm—an account I’ve apparently been working on
while I’ve been here in Vegas, all while getting shitfaced and
barfing on your shoes—an account that’s so big and important and
lucrative
my boss told me to ‘stay in Vegas as long as
needed.’”

“Wow. Sounds like a big account.
Congratulations.”

“What did you do, Josh?”

He bites his lip. “Not a whole lot. I just picked up
the phone and called a friend, that’s all.”

“Josh, what’s going on?”

He smiles broadly. “It seems one of the owners of
the hottest nightclub in Las Vegas, a good friend of mine—a guy
named Reed?—remember him?—well, Reed met you the other night and
you two got to talking and you wound up blowing him away with a
thousand amazing ideas for raising the visibility and branding for
his club. And now, understandably, he wants
you
personally,
and only
you,
to work on a massive PR campaign for his club
all month. He’s redoing
all
the branding, at your
suggestion, which is a huge job. Of course, he understands what a
major inconvenience it is, having your personal, undivided
attention for so long all the way out here in Vegas, so he was very
happy to pay a ridiculous premium for your exclusive services—up
front.”

I’m speechless.

“Pretty straightforward.” He beams a huge smile at
me.

“But... is there an actual campaign? Something I
actually have to
do
in exchange for this payment?”

“Well, there’s no actual PR campaign,” he says.
“But, yes, you have to
do
something in exchange for the
payment. Of course.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And what would that be?” I feel
heat rising in my cheeks.

“Well,
obviously
, you’ve gotta help us topple
the Evil Empire and save the world.” He shrugs. “You’re a fucking
PR-genius, Kat. If I didn’t already know that about you, you sure
proved it in spades a minute ago.”

I blush.

He puts his hand on my knee and leans forward like
he’s gonna kiss me, and my breathing catches in my throat. He leans
closer, his eyes burning, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for
his warm lips against mine. But, nope. No kiss. Instead, I feel the
sensation of his fingertip pressing lightly against the cleft in my
chin.

I open my eyes.

His blue eyes have darkened.

“We all need you here, Kat—you just proved that. And
speaking for myself personally, I have no desire to save the world
without my Party Girl with a Hyphen by my side.”

Kat

For hours and hours, Sarah and I have worked
alongside Henn, gathering and assembling evidence for Sarah’s
report while Josh and Jonas have worked tirelessly on the other
side of the room, researching, analyzing, and formulating the
big-picture strategy for whatever the heck we’re finally gonna do
with the report when it’s done.

“Dudes, I’m turning into a pumpkin,” Henn finally
declares, his face the picture of total exhaustion. “I can’t
uncross my eyes.”

“Go crash, Henny,” Sarah says. “You’ve already given
us plenty of stuff to work with for the rest of the night.”

“I won’t sleep too long. There’s still an ass-load
worth of shit to do. I just need a power nap.”

“Hey, Americanos and Red Bulls can only stave off
the physical needs of the human body for so long,” Sarah says.

“I’ll see you pretty ladies later.” He stumbles
away, bleary-eyed.

“What about you, Kitty Kat?” Sarah asks. “You need a
break?”

“Hell no,” I answer. “I’m an evidence-assembling
machine. Just give me another task and I’m on it.”

“Coolio Iglesias,” Sarah says. “Let’s turn on some
music—that always helps me get my second wind.” She flips through
her music library on her laptop. “Oh,
yes
. My girl, Audra
Mae—now there’s a voice that inspires greatness.” She presses play
on a song and a freaking hurricane of a female voice blasts me and
jolts me back awake.

“Who’s this?” I ask. “Oh my God. She’s
incredible.”

“Audra Mae and the Almighty Sound,” Sarah says.
“‘The Real Thing.’”

“Holy shitballs,” I say. “I’m gonna make this my
ringtone. I’ve got goose bumps.”

We listen to the song all the way through, and when
it ends, I want to hear it again.

“Play it on a loop, Sarah,” I say. “I’m already
addicted. Gah!”

“Right? I know. She sings right from her soul.” She
glances at Josh and Jonas across the room, their noses buried in
Jonas’ laptop. “Hey, how are you boys doing over there? You’ve been
going nonstop for hours.”

“Just coming up with a foolproof plan to fuck the
bad guys up the ass, baby,” Jonas mutters, typing something on his
keyboard.

“Jonas, your eyes are bugging out of your head—maybe
you should take a short break—like, go work out or something?”
Sarah says.

“There’s no time for that,” Jonas says, not taking
his eyes off his screen. “I’m on a mission from God here,
baby.”

Sarah begins to say something more, but Jonas cuts
her off.

“
Because I love my baby more than life
itself
.”

Sarah takes in a sharp breath. “Holy crappola,” she
whispers.

“Holy shitballs,” I reply, my heart racing
vicariously for her. “Is that the first time?”

She shakes her head. “No, but definitely the first
time in front of other people.”

“Aw.” I grab her hand. “Our little boy is growing
up.”

Sarah smiles broadly. “That gorgeous man never
ceases to surprise me.”

“I could say the same thing about that gorgeous
man’s brother,” I say.

I stare at Josh for a long beat. He’s wearing jeans
and a T-shirt today, a rarity for the ever-fashionable Playboy, and
he looks hot as freaking hell. Jesus God, everything about that
man—from his taut muscles to the slight wave of his dark hair to
his sly smile, even the dragon on his bicep peeking out from his
short sleeve—is drawing me to him uncontrollably.

But, damn, he’s stubborn. And guarded,
too—deceptively so. He comes off as so open and easygoing, but he’s
hiding darkness under there, I can feel it. I try to imagine Josh
fucking me in a bunny suit, but that doesn’t ring true. More than
likely, he’s into S&M, right? He’s gotta be some kind of a
dom—into whips and chains and butt plugs. I imagine myself calling
him “master” in a doggie collar and my clit pulses. I could work
with that. Or, whoa, wait, maybe he’s a
sub
? Holy Not What
I’m Hoping For, Batman. Not at all. That’s the thing—it could be
anything.
It’s killing me not knowing.