Rebel (Montgomery Brothers Series ~ Book 3)

by Laura Pavlov

  “Try me,” I said, pushing to my feet and towering over her for effect. She was a tiny little thing. She stood about a foot shorter than me, but I was almost six feet four inches, so I guess that didn’t make her short per se. Her frame was thin and feminine, yet every inch of her was toned from her running days.

  “But you promised to keep this between us,” she huffed.

  “That was before I knew you were going to put yourself in danger.”

  She stormed back to her desk and dropped into her chair. “Okay, note to self—don’t tell my arrogant boss what I’m doing again.”

  I put my hands on her desk and leaned forward, crowding her space. “You will tell me what you’re doing, and we’ll figure it out together. But I’ll be damned if I let you go into a dangerous situation on your own. I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t blow up your story. I run a newsroom, after all. I don’t make a habit of blowing up stories. Nobody would work for me if I did.”

  She studied me as I dropped back down in the chair across from her. “What does that mean? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going with you. You know, to this club. We’ll go together. Call and tell them we’re a couple. Lots of couples are into that kinky shit.”

  A smile spread across her face and her cheeks pinked. “You’re joking?”

  “Normally, yes. I’m a bit of a joker. But this time, I’m dead serious. Buckle up, sweetheart. They might let me whip you a few times.” I barked out a laugh.

  “You’re such a pig. You’ll have to wear a disguise. We can’t risk getting recognized and blowing the whole story.”

  “Don’t you worry about me. I’ve got all kinds of disguises. What do you suggest? Assless chaps? Leather speedo? Or just go in the buff with a pair of sunglasses?”

  “No. Just no.” She waved her hands in front of her face. “Dress like you’re going to a club, and wear a hat and glasses, or a wig.”

  “I’ll figure it out. But what’s your plan when we get inside?”

  “I’m going to fake a stomachache, and just ask for time to lie down. Then I’ll find the bastard and snap a few pictures and make a run for it,” she said, tucking her light brown hair behind her ear.

  “That’s a terrible plan. Too much room for error. Let me think on this. I’m sort of the king of plans. Ask my brothers.”

  “We can’t ask anyone. No one can know what we’re doing, Montgomery. I’m serious. This is the kind of story that someone puts a hit out on you for. And I wouldn’t put anything past Senator Reynolds.”

  I laughed. “He’s a scumbag, but he’s not a murderer. Take it down a notch, Nancy Drew. Why don’t you go with me to the party he’s throwing in a few weeks. We just got the invite.”

  She rubbed her hands together. “Yes, please. I’d love to see the dirtbag in his element. Acting like a perfect gentleman with Buffy on his arm. Unless we expose him before then.”

  “We need to have a lot of proof before we go public with the story. We don’t need lawsuits. And we’re going to have to bring Dan in at some point. He’s our political guy. You don’t want to step on toes.”

  “That’s up for debate. If he was good at his job, he’d know about this, right?”

  “Well, he doesn’t have his uncle’s, brother’s, mechanic’s, dental hygienist giving him tips,” I said, and I couldn’t hide my smile.

  “Hey, it takes a village.”

  “Thanks for keeping me in the loop. Now get to work on your real job. The Millennials want to know what Kombucha drink to order or if they should give goat yoga a try.” I pushed to my feet and made my way to the door.

  “On it,” she said, sticking her finger in her mouth and mockingly pretending to vomit.

  “Don’t bite the hand that feeds, Blue Jay.”

  “Sorry that I happen to care about what’s actually happening in the world and not what the latest French braid style is.” She smirked. “And why must you call me a bird?”

  “It suits you. See you later.”

  “If you’re lucky,” she yelled as I walked out the door. A big grin spread across my face. Because I was going with Monroe Buckley to a sex club in less than a week.

  Now that’s something to smile about.

  Chapter Four

  Monroe

  Tuesday could not come soon enough. I’d done enough research on the hottest tennis shoes out there, and the best dating apps for single twenty-somethings for a lifetime. I was ready to get to the gritty truth about Simon Reynolds, a.k.a. the current presidential front runner.

  I stopped by Jack’s office. He’d turned out to be a fairly cool boss. He gave me enough slack to do what I wanted at work, all while keeping me in check. It was a gift, I suppose. Because normally it would annoy me to have someone in my business like this—but he had a way of acting like he cared, which made it less offensive. I knocked on the open door as he sat behind his desk and popped a cookie in his mouth. The guy couldn’t stay out of the bakery downstairs, yet his tall, lean physique clearly hadn’t suffered. I know he still worked out all the time, as he and Miles followed a similar workout program. Not that I was looking.

  I wasn’t.

  At least I tried not to.

  But sometimes he happened to walk past my office and the door was open.

  Or when he spoke at our staff meetings, I had no option but to watch the way his broad shoulders filled out his dress shirt, and the way his abs flexed against the cotton fabric when he laughed.

  Did it just get hot in here?

  “What’s up, Little Bird?” he asked around a mouthful of pastry.

  “Have you ever heard of not speaking when your mouth is full?” I asked, dropping in the chair across from him.

  “Yep. Just don’t give a shit. And it’s sugary goodness, it’s hardly offensive. Just makes me all the sweeter.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, Romeo. What’s the plan for tonight? It’s Tuesday. Operation Dirty Reynolds goes down at ten p.m. sharp. Do you want to meet in the alley behind the entrance?”

  His head fell back in laughter. For whatever reason, Jack Montgomery appeared to find everything I said hilarious—even when I was dead serious. “Hell no. We aren’t meeting in any dark alleys. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at nine forty-five. My driver can drop us off.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “We can’t take a driver to an undercover operation. We’ll stand out like sore thumbs.”

  “You said this is a club for the wealthy. You don’t think Simon has a driver?”

  I thought it over, chewing on my thumbnail as I did so. “Fine. He can drop us a block away and we’ll walk it in. Don’t forget your disguise. You’re a public figure. We can’t have you recognized.”

  “Stop worrying. We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not worrying, I’m thorough. I’ll text you my address.”

  “Thanks. Your brother called. He said he’s coming in town in a few weeks for your birthday?”

  “Yeah. He always does. Not sure why, it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Your dad’s having a dinner for you?” he asked.

  I groaned. “Yeeeees, per the insistence of Thirsty Thelma. She’s hosting the lame soirée. Lucky me.”

  Thelma was stepmother number four, and they just kept getting worse. I wasn’t sure what my dad saw in these women, but I loved him, so I tolerated his slew of crazy wives. Ever since Mom died, he’s dated… questionable women. Apparently, my mother was irreplaceable, so he stopped trying.

  “You want the day off for your birthday?” He looked up to meet my gaze.

  I chuckled. “No. I prefer to work. Plus, I’m new here. Why are you offering me random days off? Let me guess. You take your birthday off and treat it like it’s a national holiday?” I asked.

  “I do.”

  “God, you’re so predictable, Montgomer
y. When’s your birthday?”

  “December twenty-fifth. It really is a national holiday.” He laughed.

  “Of course, you share a birthday with Jesus Christ. It’s so—”

  “So, what?”

  “It’s so you,” I said, unable to hold back my laughter.

  “What can I say? I’m a Christmas miracle.”

  “Okay, boy wonder. I need to get back to work. See you tonight.”

  “Hey, Blue Jay,” he called out when I reached the door. My stomach dipped every time he called me by the ridiculous name.

  “Yeah?”

  “Wear something sexy.” He winked.

  I shook my head and made my way down the hall to the breakroom where everyone ate lunch. I usually just grabbed my food from the kitchen and ate at my desk.

  Two girls that I’d seen a few times since I started, stood off by the microwave gabbing. They smiled when I walked in and continued their conversation.

  “I turned up my flirt game yesterday, but still nothing,” Sabrina said. She was the assistant to Dan Arbor.

  “Trust me, girl, he won’t bite. He either has a girlfriend, or now that he runs the newsroom, he won’t cross the line.” Bailey pulled her microwave lunch out when the timer beeped. They were obviously talking about Jack because he oversaw the newsroom.

  “I’m going to give it one more shot. I’ll take my blouse down a button or two when I stop in his office today to ask him to meet us at happy hour tonight. My boyfriend paid a pretty penny for these girls.” She motioned to her gigantic breasts. “I’m sure they will do the trick. They rarely let me down.”

  Her boyfriend got her a boob job, and she was using them to hit on Jack? Who does that?

  “Your boyfriend paid for your boob job?” Bailey asked, her eyes bulging with surprise.

  “Of course, he did. He’s loaded, and he’s very powerful. A total alpha. But he hasn’t committed to me just yet, and I have my sights set on our hot boss.”

  And this is why I prefer to eat at my desk.

  “Oh, my,” Bailey said, turning to me and smiling. “She’s talking about Jack Montgomery. He’s so hot, isn’t he? You knew him before you came here, right?”

  I popped my mac-n-cheese in the microwave and started the timer. “Um, yeah. He’s my brother’s best friend, so I’ve known him for a few years.”

  “Ohhhhh. Good to know. So, you could probably get the deets for us then?” Sabrina asked, moving closer to me, and literally perusing my body from head to toe. She smiled then—an obvious sign that she didn’t view me as a threat. Her blouse was gaping between buttons as her gargantuan breasts were obviously tough to contain. She wore a skin-tight black pencil skirt that was far too short to be considered professional, and her heels were a good five inches tall. The girl tried really hard. I’d give her that.

  “Um, no, we don’t really talk about that kind of stuff, honestly. But good luck with your plan today.” I forced a smile and pulled my lunch from the microwave, bouncing it between my two hands so I wouldn’t get burned, before setting it in a paper bowl.

  “Well, you could ask your brother to find out, couldn’t you?” Sabrina pushed. It annoyed me. We worked together. We weren’t girlfriends. She’d barely given me the time of day before now. She didn’t get to use me for information.

  “No, that’s not happening. Take care,” I said, turning on my heels and getting the hell out of there.

  “She’s not a girl’s-girl,” Sabrina said loud enough for me to hear once I was out the door. She couldn’t be more wrong. I was a total girl’s-girl. But I was picky when it came to choosing girlfriends, and I could spot a user a mile away. And Sabrina and her fake knockers were definitely users.

  The rest of the day was spent researching local hotspots for first time dates. The irony was not lost on me. I was writing about things that people my age were interested in—yet I wasn’t one of them. But I was a capable researcher. I’d never been on a dating site, nor had I had an actual date in a while. I was definitely going through a dry spell, and I was fine with it.

  My phone vibrated on my desk and when Becker’s picture popped up, I answered. “What’s up, Becks?”

  “Not much. Just checking in. You want to grab drinks tonight?” she asked.

  “I can’t, I’m working. But I could go this weekend if you want?”

  “All right. I’ll call Gwen and Jilly and see if they’re free. Ever since Gwen started dating Royce, she’s always busy.”

  I could picture my best friend Becks rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth. Gwen had never had a serious boyfriend in all the years I’d known her, and I was happy for her that she’d found someone. She was all about Royce right now, and I was fine with it.

  “Give her some time. It’s still really new, and she’s happy. She’ll come around. I promise.”

  She chuckled. “Fine. But she better come this weekend or she’s getting the wrath.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute,” I said, shaking my head and smiling. Becks didn’t hide her feelings. She didn’t have a politically correct bone in her body. She said what she thought, and she was an open book. Most of the time I appreciated it. Unless the wrath was geared toward me, and then I wasn’t such a fan.

  “So, you’ve been at Montgomery Media for a few weeks. Give me the lowdown. Any hot guys? I mean, aside from the sexy brothers who own the place,” she said with a laugh.

  “I don’t really know. I’m in work mode when I’m here.”

  She groaned into the phone. “Come on, girl. You’re twenty-three. Get your game on. You’re hot, you’re smart, and you’re funny as hell. You’re the whole package, Mon.”

  “Oh my gosh, what are you, my agent? I’m good. I needed a break from men.”

  “Because you wasted so much time on that boring bastard, Thyme the slime. I told you it wasn’t normal to be named after an herb.”

  I laughed. “His parents are earthy, what can I say? And I’ve put him in my rearview. Thankfully, I haven’t run into him and his annoying girlfriend, which is part of the reason I don’t like going out. It would be so awkward to have to see them together.”

  “Because he’s an asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for five minutes. And don’t even get me started on that skank, Sage. Those two fucking herbs were made for each other. They can run off and have lots of rosemary babies—the backstabbing fuckers.”

  I fell back in my chair in hysterical laughter. I was finally at a point where it didn’t hurt—the reminder that my three-year boyfriend and my coworker had a secret affair for months. Yeah, that one left a mark. Sage and I both interned at CBS at the same time, but she left after I caught them together. At the company Christmas party of all things. They couldn’t even make it the three-hour duration of the party without sneaking into a coat closet for a quickie. I mean, who does that? Well, apparently two herbs with a few cocktails in them—that’s who.

  “They were meant to be—just based on their names.”

  “And their low hanging morals,” she hissed.

  My friends had kept me from falling apart the months that followed the breakup. I couldn’t even say for sure that I was heartbroken about Thyme, as much as I was devastated by the betrayal. I didn’t trust easy, and I’d always been fairly guarded. But Thyme seemed like such a safe bet, and I couldn’t have been more wrong. And after everything went down, I’d lost my ability to trust. In hindsight, I think Thyme and I had just fallen into a routine, one that was safe and passionless. We went through the motions and I was comfortable with it because it meant that I didn’t have to put myself out there for anyone else. Thyme never gave me butterflies, nor was I overly excited to spend time with him. And I’d basically handed him Sage on a silver platter as they’d met at a company event, and we’d all joked about how they were both named after an herb, and wouldn’t it be funny if they we
re a couple. Yada, yada. And there you have it.

  Two herbs that appear to be living happily ever after.

  Together.

  “All right, I need to get back to work. Let me know what day this weekend everyone can meet. Love you.”

  “We’re finding you a man this weekend. It’s time to come out of the dry spell, Mon. Love you.”

  I rolled my eyes before ending the call and getting back to work. I spent the next few hours researching information about the club we were going to. It was called The Dark Temptress, and I was on a discussion blog about all the kinky shit that went down there. I needed to make sure I had an out.

  I worked late and quickly grabbed a bite to eat before raiding my closet for something that didn’t make it obvious that I was undercover. I found some fitted black leather pants and matched it with a black lace bodysuit and sky-high black heels. I’d never worn either of these before, as they were purchased on a drunken shopping trip with Becks who convinced me they were staples.

  Thanks, Becks.

  Turns out they’re perfect for an underground sex operation. I’d bought a black wig and I pulled it over my head. The hair was sleek and shiny and landed just above my shoulder. I tucked it behind my ears. I applied my makeup more dramatically than usual with a smoky eye pencil and red lipstick.

  I stood back and looked in the mirror. Perfection. Just the look I was going for. I wouldn’t stand out, nor did I look recognizable. The doorbell rang and I grabbed my clutch and hurried to the door. Jack Montgomery stood on the other side and his jaw dropped when he took me in. I frowned. He looked exactly like himself. On a normal day, that wasn’t a bad thing. But if anyone saw him there, they would be suspicious. He could blow our cover.

  “Damn, girl. You look like you’re ready to chain me up and dominate the shit out of me, and I am here for it.”

  I frowned and placed my hands on my hips. “Don’t be a pig, Montgomery. And why do you look exactly like yourself?”

  “Looking like myself has always served me well.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes and reached for my keys. “You can’t come. You’ll blow this whole operation.”