International Guy: Milan, San Francisco, Montreal (International Guy Volumes Book 2) Page 22

  “Which would be?” I tap my fingers against the wood surface of the desk in my suite.

  She grins wide. “Three things, actually.”

  “Three?” I chuckle, enjoying her happiness, the darkness leaving her eyes. I decide to play along, needing to let go of the garbage we’ve uncovered. And I do owe her huge for this info. I don’t know what she and Michael had to do to secure it, and frankly, I don’t want to know. It would likely piss me off and make me want to tie her to her office chair, where we could keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get herself into any trouble.

  “Number one . . .” She holds up her index finger. “Two weeks’ paid vacation at the end of the year so Michael can whisk me away on our honeymoon.”

  “Done.” That was painless.

  She claps her hands with unhindered glee. My goodness, this woman is easy to please.

  “Next?” I encourage her to continue.

  “Double date with you and Sky, when she’s in town, and me and Michael. I kinda sorta already bought four tickets to the Red Sox game next month so we could all go together.”

  I shake my head and laugh out loud. “Meaning you already planned to trample my baseball date with Sky.”

  She pouts. “Michael loves baseball as much as you do, and I want you two to be friends. Plus, I want to get to know Sky better.”

  I think about Michael and his cold, stoic nature. How he secured a fireball like Wendy is beyond me, but there’s nothing wrong with the guy. Seems nice enough based on the one time we all met up at Lucky’s. I actually know very little about him and am intrigued by their relationship and lifestyle choices. A double date isn’t a bad idea. And Sky would love that it’s a very normal, couple-like thing to do. My girl is always looking for ways to live outside of the limelight. Still, it’s not likely she wouldn’t garner any attention.

  I focus my gaze on Wendy. “You know what going out on a date with Skyler could mean, Wendy? The paparazzi are relentless.”

  She shrugs. “Believe me when I say there’s nothing to find on me except my picture on the IG website and only professional stuff to find about my man. I’ve made sure that’s the only info anyone would find, even good hackers. Besides, I already told Michael, and he was ecstatic,” she says with a flourish.

  I snort, thinking of the extremely self-possessed man. “I highly doubt that.”

  “He was!” She pouts.

  I narrow my gaze.

  “Okay, maybe ecstatic is the wrong word to use, but he definitely didn’t hate the idea, and I was able to use your contacts to score us seats behind the dugout. Which means we won’t be bothered by other fans. It’s where all the celebrities sit. Cost you a mint, by the way. I’m figuring out a way to make it ‘entertaining staff and a client,’ so we can write it off on IG’s business expenses.”

  “Of course you are. What’s the third?” I offer a crooked smile and wait for her to lay it on me. The next thing could be as crazy as a pajama party at the IG offices for all I know. With Wendy, anything is possible.

  She frowns. “Third?”

  “Minxy, you wanted three things from me for your sleuthing services.” I cock an eyebrow and lean back in my chair to hear what crazy thing she’s come up with.

  “Oh yeah.” Her eyes widen, and she twists her lips into an expression that leads me to believe she’s uncomfortable . . . no, nervous.

  “Wendy . . . you can ask me anything.” I dip my voice to a tone that’s calm and hopefully kind, especially in light of the harsh information we’ve burned through about Johan.

  She licks her lips, a bit of anxiety set in her body language. “I was hoping, um, thinking maybe you could, you know . . .” Her head tips from side to side. “I mean, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, and you wanted to . . .” She twists her fingers in front of her.

  “Spit it out . . . ,” I laugh, trying to relieve some of the tension that seems to be rattling my usually unflappable assistant. The only other time I saw her uncomfortable or anything but in control was when the confidential pictures of Sky and me got out to the press. Other than that, she’s solid as a rock and can be as hard if she wants to be.

  “You see, I don’t have anyone to, you know . . . um, at the wedding . . .”

  “Wendy.” I voice the single word as a command to get this show on the road already. She’s beat around the bush long enough.

  She lets out a fast breath. “Would you walk me down the aisle?” She lets out the request as if it was painful for her to say and she had to get it out as fast as possible.

  I frown. “You want me to walk you down the aisle at your wedding? You mean . . . as in giving away the bride?”

  She locks her fingers together and nods.

  “Why?” My surprise is obvious.

  “There’s no one else. I don’t have a father or brother to do the job, and I know you’re technically my boss, but I look up to you, and respect you so much, and . . .” Her face crumbles for a brief moment. “Oh, forget it. Never mind.” She shakes her head, and I can see her shutting down.

  “Wendy, look at me.”

  She doesn’t and looks everywhere but at me. “It’s okay, it was stupid, and I . . . uh, I’m sorry I asked. It’s too soon. You haven’t known me that long, and—”

  “And . . . shut the hell up and let me speak, woman!” I fire off hotly.

  Her head lifts, and her eyes darken.

  “Jeez, woman, you’d tire a priest in the confessional! Let me speak.” I lighten my tone but still put enough force into my demand for her to truly listen.

  Wendy bites her bottom lip and nods.

  “First and foremost, I’m honored you’d think of me. Second, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known someone. When they are a part of your life, it’s not up to anyone but each individual to decide the value a person has in their lives. I hold you in the highest regard, Wendy. I’d be very pleased to walk you down the aisle, if you wish.”

  She grins huge. “I wish. I mean, it would be awesome.” The last word is said with a note of awe and excitement.

  “Then I believe we are even.” I smirk so she knows nothing she’s requested is out of left field.

  “Even Stephen, boss man!” She salutes me in a ridiculous imitation of a soldier signing off. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need. I’m going to get back to checking out the staff at Renner Financial Services. What are you looking for in their financials anyway?”

  “A thief,” I state flatly.

  She grimaces. “Bummer. Righto! Back to it.” Wendy finishes and hits the button, and my iPhone reverts to the home screen.

  I scan through the documents she sent once more. Johan Karr is a disgusting individual with some pretty twisted tastes. It looks like his family may have disowned him. His career is going downhill, and he’s a druggie with very little to lose. My blood boils inside my veins.

  How can this disgusting piece of shit have held the beauty that is Skyler in his hands?

  Swallowing down the urge to break every last one of Johan’s fingers, I count my lucky stars that I have Skyler now. I’m in her corner. Me and my team will do anything and everything to get her out of this mess he’s created. I need to move carefully, plan out how I’m going to hit him with this information, so he’ll back off Sky for good.

  Without realizing it, I’m already tapping Sky’s number on my phone. I need to hear her voice. Let her breathy timbre calm me down before I do something stupid. More than anything, I need to make sure she’s okay. After finding out more information, seeing and hearing how dangerous Johan is, I need to know she’s all right.

  She answers breathlessly on the second ring. “Hey, honey . . .”

  “Sky, baby.” I let out the breath I was holding until I heard her beautiful voice. The burning anger licking at the edges of my nerves starts to ease, shifting into a simmer. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. Throwing myself into work today, trying to get my mind off everything. Tracey is doing some res
earch about how to best drop this type of bomb to the press and how to deal with the backlash if he does release the pictures and write the book.”

  My entire body tightens like a live wire, and I breathe through the madness I feel weaving its way through my system. Regardless, Wendy’s supersleuthing is the answer to the problem, and I make a promise to my girl, believing every word. “It’s not going to happen.”

  Her voice is weak when she replies. “You say that, but you don’t know Johan. When he sets his mind to do something, he does it, and if I don’t pay him off . . .”

  “You’re not paying that piece of shit a penny. I’ve had Wendy looking into his past. He’s got some nasty skeletons in his closet, ones we can use to get you out of this predicament.”

  Her tone lifts. “Really?”

  The speck of hope in her voice fills my chest, pride swelling in my mind as I assure her, “Yeah, baby, really. I’m going to take care of this. When can we go over what I’ve got on your ex? Preferably when you’re safe and sound, sitting within the privacy of your own home.”

  “As much as I want to know everything right now, I have to stay focused. We’re shooting late tonight and early tomorrow. Later tomorrow, after we wrap and I’m home, I’ll call you.”

  A ten-foot-tall pine tree isn’t as high as I am knowing I can give her some relief. “Okay, honey.” I use her endearment.

  Her voice is calm when she says, “You really think whatever you got on him will get me off the hook?” I can hear the contentment in her tone, and I’m overjoyed to be the one to give her a modicum of comfort.

  “Not think . . . know.”

  Her voice teeters on the edge of tearful emotion. “Parker . . .” She sniffs, and I know she’s trying to hold back the tears.

  I press the phone closer to my ear, wanting to hear every inhalation, every word more clearly. “I’ll always take care of you. As long as I’m alive, no one is ever going to hurt you. Not ever.” It’s a vow I intend to keep.

  “Honey . . . I love . . .” She starts to make the most important admission in our relationship yet, one I’ve recently made myself, but I want to say it when I’m looking into her eyes, sitting next to her, preferably naked and in bed.

  It kills me to make her wait. I too want to shout it from the rooftops. “Peaches, hold that thought until we can be together. I have some admissions of my own.” My voice comes out rough, as though sandpaper scratched up my vocal cords.

  “Yeah? Ones starting with I love . . . ,” she teases, and the weight of the world slips away. This woman is all I need. Everything I could ever want.

  I grin wide, tip my head back, and laugh at the ceiling. This woman is all mine. All freakin’ mine, and I can’t wait to tell her to her face how very much I adore her.

  “Maybe,” I admit softly.

  “Then I’ll look forward to when you’re back from the West Coast and firmly planted in the best coast.”

  I chuckle at my silly girl. “Call me tomorrow, and we’ll go over what Wendy found on Johan. Does that work for you?”

  “Yeah, honey, it works perfect. And . . .” Her voice shakes a little. “Tell Wendy I appreciate whatever she did for me.”

  “You’ll be able to tell her in person. When you come up next month for our baseball date, we’ll be doing it as a foursome with Wendy and Michael.”

  Skyler giggles, and the sound fills my heart and wraps my body in all things good and right. The blackness, which slid all over my skin from reading through Johan’s past, is falling away with every word my woman says.

  “Sounds like fun! I enjoyed spending time with Wendy and her guy. He seems pretty serious; maybe a baseball game double date will lighten him up.”

  “Maybe. If anyone could do it, it would be the two of you wild women together.”

  She laughs heartily. “Beer and baseball won’t hurt either.”

  My mouth waters at the idea of a ballpark hot dog in one hand, my arm around Skyler, that hand holding a cold beer while watching my favorite team play. It honestly sounds like the perfect day. “No, it wouldn’t hurt. As long as you’re there, I’ll be golden.”

  “I can’t wait,” Skyler says happily.

  “Me either. But first, we have to get through this case, your movie demands, and your scum bucket of an ex and his threats.”

  She groans. “Ugh. I just want to live my life. Why can’t it all be easy, run smoothly?”

  No truer words have ever been said. We all wish for ease but live with drama. “Nothing in life is smooth sailing. Sometimes we have to make our own waves in order to move forward.”

  “I guess so,” she says distractedly, and I hear a voice in the distance calling to her. “I’ve gotta go. Break time is over.”

  “Okay, Peaches, remember to call me tomorrow after shooting, and we’ll figure out the Johan situation together.”

  “Okay. Tonight, when you’re done with your evening and you’re back in your room . . .” She lets the rest of what she was going to say float away.

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you dream of me?”

  “I always dream of you, Skyler. Always.”

  8

  “Everything in place?” I call out to Royce as he maneuvers his big body through the crowd of club goers.

  I’m sitting in the VIP section of a rooftop club in San Francisco called Skyline. According to a business contact who owns the joint and my googling, it’s the premier hot spot for those who can afford the hefty entrance fee of two hundred a pop. Since I’m acquainted with the owner, I scored VIP for a song.

  “Yep.”

  “And Rochelle?” I glance around him but don’t see her.

  “Touching up her makeup in the bathroom. The five finalists?” he adds, making his way up the five steps to the VIP section.

  I hook a thumb over my shoulder behind me to where the men are sitting on the black velvet benches scattered throughout the posh area. “Settling in with drinks and talking to the couple of fill-in women we vetted and hired from the agency to make things not seem so focused on Rochelle but more of a party atmosphere.”

  He rubs at his chin and watches while our client finally makes her appearance. It’s as if the crowd is parting like the Red Sea for her. She is quite the vision, wearing a silver swath of fabric that swishes around her body like shimmery water flowing over her curves. The dress has a deep V with a slip of fabric between her breasts to prevent the garment from showing her unmentionables. There’s a slice up her thigh that leaves very little to the imagination about how long and toned her sexy legs are. I bite down on my lip and chance a glance at Roy.

  “Jeez-us,” Royce rumbles, his gaze all over our client. Knowing him as well as I do, I’m sure he’s likely remembering the one time he got in there and wishing he could get in there again.

  I clap a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “For the greater good, brother.”

  He grits his teeth. “Got it. Don’t like it, but I’ve got it. Where’s Keehan?”

  This time I grin and lift my chin. “At the bar, getting a cocktail.”

  Royce scans the area and then finds him. He also notices what I notice. One of the women we vetted is carrying on a conversation with the tall, geeky, buff, black Clark Kent. She flings her hair over her shoulder and touches his forearm. Keehan laughs at something she says and then looks down and back up, flirting with her.

  I still as Rochelle grabs the banister and approaches us. “Are we ready for some fun tonight?” she says, all smiles and confidence.

  “We are. Looks like your friend has already started without us.” I nod to where Keehan is talking to the buxom brunette, setting the plan into motion.

  Rochelle’s gaze flashes to where Keehan is, and a frown slips across her face. “Who’s he talking to?”

  I shrug nonchalantly. I didn’t hire her to be in the VIP section, but I did hire her to hit on Keehan mercilessly, mostly because she’s beautiful and looks a fuck-of-a-lot like Rochelle. What’s more entertaining is Keehan
is none the wiser. He’s genuinely putting a little mack daddy action on the model. I’m proud of him.

  “Not one of the women I hired for the VIP.” I fudge the truth.

  “Shouldn’t Keehan be over here, with us?” Her tone is agitated.

  “Why?” Royce asks flatly, still probably miffed she had the goods, as in him, and could so easily move on to the prospects we’ve chosen. Apparently when Rochelle says something is fun, she means it. When it’s over, she doesn’t look back. It’s her nature. If it weren’t Royce she’s blowing off, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. People are who they are. Plus, she did make it clear to him, regardless of whether he might have been feeling differently.

  Her gaze narrows. “Because he should be checking out these guys, helping me pick the right one.” Her tone is put out, and I have to hold back my own laughter at the haughtiness she’s expressing.

  “And why would he do that?” I query lightly, making sure not to lead her horse to water so quickly.

  She huffs. “He’s my best friend. My right hand in all things. I would assume he wouldn’t want me making a bad choice. This is the rest of my life.”

  I nod, agreeing. “True, but maybe he doesn’t want to see you commit to another man the way you’ve committed to him all these years.”

  She frowns and leans a hand on the banister, seeming to need the balance. “What do you mean?” She wraps one arm around her waist but doesn’t so much as glance my way. Her eyes are glued to the spectacle before us.

  Keehan leans in, brushing the woman’s hair off her shoulder. She preens beautifully and smiles away at his gentle affection.

  “Well, he’s always been the constant man in your life in all ways except physically, right? Maybe he’s tired of the celibate lifestyle you were hinting he had earlier in the week.”

  Her brow furrows. “I . . . I guess so.”

  “And with you offering up all that is you, maybe he realized he better find his own replacement.” I intentionally dig the knife in a little.

  “That’s absurd. I’d never replace Keehan. He’s everything to me.” She grips the banister with both hands, fingers blanching with how tight she’s holding on.