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by HelenKay Dimon


  It also showed what a mess the CIA had become, which was bad news because bad leadership meant bad decisions and a harder time in this deal. Bast already spent hours a day battling over the agreement’s small print and incomprehensible wording.

  “What is your issue with Gabe?” he asked, skipping the subterfuge and tact and going right for the issue.

  “I don’t need him.”

  “Did he do something?” Bast could imagine Gabe telling her to be quiet or stop complaining. Being a straightforward guy, he was there for protection. Making friends would not be on his radar.

  “No.”

  It was the way she said it. Too strong. Too emphatic. She didn’t laugh the question off as he expected. “Are you attracted to him?”

  “Because I’m a woman I have to be attracted to every man who steps in front of me?” She snorted. “That’s sexist. And stupid. You’re better than that, Sebastian.”

  And that time she said too much. It was as if she abandoned all her training. Bast even saw her knee bouncing up and down. “It was a simple question.”

  “Your big dumb friend wants me out of town.”

  Dumb was dead wrong, but Bast didn’t push.

  “I agree with Gabe on this.” Knowing Gabe, Bast guessed he picked the mountains of some nearby state as a temporary safe lodging for them.

  “Out of the state.”

  As suspected. “Also smart.”

  “Of course you’d think so. You’re not the one who’s going to be stuck in a cabin somewhere.”

  A vision filled his head and Bast couldn’t fight it off. “Just the two of you?”

  “Don’t.” Her voice held a smack . . . just like the old Natalie who didn’t take any shit ever. “Just because you and I slept together doesn’t mean I sleep with every man I work with.”

  That killed Bast’s amusement. “I didn’t say you did.”

  That had been one night. With the pressure gone and deal for Becca done, they’d ordered dinner and the rest just happened. Bast didn’t regret it. He admired Natalie and even buttoned-up as she was back then he found her attractive. He could tell she didn’t hold it as such a great memory.

  “It’s what you do say that’s annoying.” She spun her glass around between both hands. Water sloshed over the side but she seemed not to notice. “That and the stupid grin.”

  The grin again. If it had anything to do with the “tell” Elijah talked about, Bast debated banning grinning altogether. “Thanks?”

  “He won’t even come in and sit down like a normal person.”

  He let the odd comment go because she was raw and ready to spike down any concerned question. “Gabe? He can guard better from a standing position in a strategic location.”

  Her gaze wandered back to Gabe. “Sounds like you guys are reading the same handbook.”

  Bast would bet he was the only one in the room who didn’t have that kind of training. “I learned it from him on another case.”

  Her gaze switched back to Bast. “Is that person still alive?”

  “Yes.” Bast actually didn’t know because years had passed and his access to witness protection needed to be limited, but he learned long ago a definite tone put people at ease. He threw it out whenever he could.

  “No wonder you’re impressed with his résumé.”

  “Natalie,” Bast put a hand on her knee. “Trust me.”

  She didn’t take his hand but she didn’t knock it away either. “That is not one of my strengths.”

  “We’ll stay in contact while I finish the agreement off, then you can come back and live your life.” Christ, he hoped he could pull this off. “Who knows, you might grow to like Gabe.”

  “I haven’t grown to like you yet.” She shifted and looked at a spot over Bast’s shoulder. “Or you.”

  Jarrett nodded. “Always nice to see you, Natalie.”

  Lost in conversation, Bast had missed Jarrett and Becca coming onto the floor, but there they were, with Jarrett right behind him and Becca looming in the doorway from the hallway. “About time you got here.”

  Without another word, Natalie slid off the stool and brushed the edge of her shirt down. “I expect a call soon saying this is over and telling me where to send your final check.”

  Becca joined the men and all three of them stared after Natalie as she walked away. She didn’t stop to talk with Gabe. She breezed past him, slowing down only when he grabbed her arm and swung her behind him. Bast would swear he saw the other man smile as he opened the door and ushered Natalie out of the club.

  “So,” Becca made the short word last forever. “Did I overhear her say you two slept together?”

  Becca had security equipment everywhere and knew the answer, so Bast refused to get sucked into that vortex. “No.”

  “It’s good you’re here.” Jarrett reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of water and held one out to Bast. “We need to talk.”

  He passed on the beverage. “About?”

  “Let’s go into my office.”

  Reckoning. Time had run out and he messed up. Bast knew he should come clean with Jarrett. At least give him a head’s up about Kyra so he didn’t hear it from Becca first. Bast had blown by her deadline, never thinking she’d spill.

  As soon as they got to the office, Bast started talking. Launched right into the offensive strike. “Okay, before you say—”

  “So,” Becca cut him off. “We had a new member request.”

  “What?” Confusion blanketed Bast. This couldn’t have anything to do with Kyra. “Don’t you get those by the bucket load every week?”

  “This one impacts you.” Jarrett sat down in his big leather chair and dropped a hand behind Becca, who stood next to him.

  They stood before him like a fierce wall, all tense and focused, and Bast had no idea why. He’d taken that long walk down the hall to the back rooms of the club thinking this was about Kyra. Guess not.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Your father.” Jarrett delivered the bombshell.

  It took a good thirty seconds for the answer to sink into Bast’s mind. “Dad wants to be a member here?”

  Jarrett nodded. “Lucky us.”

  The words still made no sense to Bast. “No fucking way.”

  “He seems to have forgotten he once threatened to make my life miserable.” Jarrett smiled as he said it.

  Becca didn’t take the answer as well. “Why?”

  “Because I was the piece-of-shit criminal who was ruining his son.” Jarrett walked through the answer like he had it memorized. “I think the divorce was even my fault, though I can’t remember how he made that leap.”

  Becca laughed. “No wonder you got out of the crime lord business. You were far too busy handling Bast’s personal life.”

  Enough chitchat. Bast didn’t even know if they were done when he broke in. “Okay, so when does his membership start?”

  Becca and Jarrett stared at each other, then looked to Bast. Neither said anything for a few seconds. Both frowned. It was like a game of synchronized confusion.

  Jarrett shook his head. “It doesn’t.”

  “We turned down his application.” Becca held out a file with a rejection sticker on it.

  Without thinking, Bast looked at the file and nodded while the heaviness in his chest lifted. Their gesture meant everything. With his feelings for Kyra in constant churn status, not a lot in his personal life made sense right now. But he could count on these two.

  But he couldn’t let this happen. They had a business to run.

  “You can’t do this. I appreciate it, but let him in.” They didn’t want this kind of heat. No one did.

  “You underestimate us.” Becca looked grumpy at the thought. “I assure you, we can say no and turn down people all the time.”

  �
��You’re going to tell the senior senator from the good state of Virginia that he can’t join Holton Woods?” The idea made Bast laugh. He tried to remember his father ever not getting something he wanted, and couldn’t come up with an example. Dad demanded exemplary treatment and caused a scene when he didn’t get it. “It will cause a shitstorm.”

  “Let it rain.” Jarrett leaned back in his chair. Looked pretty fucking satisfied doing it, too.

  “Jarrett, come on.”

  He shrugged. “It’s out of my hands. Becca already said no.”

  “Your father is a complete blowhard jackass, by the way.” She sat down on the arm of the chair and leaned against Jarrett.

  Bast had called him much worse. “That’s not news.”

  “He went from charming to pissy then he broke into name-calling.” Becca looked at Jarrett. “He has quite a range.”

  The cycle never stopped. His dad threw his weight around and bullied. He hid behind an office and political catchwords, but he only ran about an inch deep. Pontificating defined his style. “Was the name-calling about me or Jarrett?”

  “Both.” Becca smiled, as if relishing the memory of his father’s diatribes. “He thinks you’re blackballing him at the club. Keeping him out.”

  Of course he did. “Even though I didn’t know he applied.”

  Becca put two fingers close together. “Admittedly, that’s a small problem with his theory.”

  His dad always thought the worst of him. Never mind Lena’s attempts to explain that Bast hadn’t pressured her into threesomes or abandoned their marriage. Bast’s father placed the blame squarely on his son and let everyone know about his disappointment. After all, the big news splash at the time didn’t match with his father’s family-first reelection theme. Ditching Bast, his only child, had been politically expedient.

  “And he made a pass at her,” Jarrett added with a thread of steel in his voice.

  “What?” Not a surprise, but still.

  Becca shook her head. “The many truly is a pig.”

  “There are two ex-wives running around the DC metro area who would agree with you.” Bast didn’t want to know how many other women his family-values-spouting dad ran though over the years. “But still, he will be a total pain in the ass until you relent. I don’t want you going through that for me.”

  Becca’s head dipped to the side and her long hair fell over Jarrett’s shoulder. “He’s cute when he’s in protective mode. The glasses add to the serious look.”

  They didn’t get it. This wasn’t a game. Bast’s father didn’t accept the word no. “He knows powerful people. Hell, he is powerful people. Want me to list the senate committees he’s on?”

  Becca dropped the file and pointed to it. “I already got the alphabetical cross-reference with his résumé and bio. It’s all in there, but thanks.”

  “And he called to remind me who he was,” Jarrett said.

  That piece of news stunned Bast. Actually knocked him back a step. “My father called you?”

  Jarrett’s deep laugh split the room. “Must have killed him to dial my number.”

  “I don’t believe this.” Bast really didn’t.

  “I’m sure he convinced himself he was doing me a favor by applying.” Jarrett shook his head. “He started with flattery. Told me how proud he was I finally made something of myself. That I was a true American story, criminal to business owner.”

  Bast sat down hard in the chair across from his friends. “Jesus.”

  “After figuring out I wasn’t changing Becca’s answer, he ended by telling me he couldn’t believe I was so weak as to let a woman run my business.”

  Becca sighed. “Like I said, a pig.”

  “So you both had to talk with him.” Bast hated the idea of his worlds colliding and his friends getting smashed in the middle.

  “For me, it was several times plus an interview, which is the normal course for an application.” Becca ran a hand over Jarrett’s hair. “Then I had a follow-up meeting.”

  Bast’s mind went blank. The idea of Becca having to talk to his dad . . . the reality she didn’t punch him or worse . . . none of it would register in Bast’s head. “When?”

  “You’ve been busy or I would have filled you in.” Her mouth dropped into a thin line as she said it. “You’re way over your deadline, by the way.”

  Jarrett frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Kyra. This was the conversation Bast expected when he stepped in the office. But he couldn’t handle it now, so they’d have to circle back. “Nothing.”

  “Well, point is, your dad is out.” Jarrett held up both hands as if to say “end of conversation.”

  Bast wiped a hand over his face as he tried to find the right words to express his appreciation and let them off the hook. “Guys, I appreciate this but you can’t—”

  “I hate when people tell me I can’t do things. Your dad tried that and I ripped up his application.” Becca’s flat voice said she would be happy to take on another Jameson if needed. “Well, a copy of it but it made me feel better to toss the thing.”

  Bast tried one last time. “You have to do what makes sense for the club.”

  “You are a loyal member. He is a dick.” Jarrett grabbed the file off the desk and dumped it on top of the shredder to his right. “End of story.”

  All true, but . . . “He’s not going to let it go.”

  “He is for now,” Becca said. “I told him that given how important he is I worried some members would try to take advantage and someone might try to use him or lie about him or create a conflict of interest.”

  Bast felt the room tilt. “He bought that? You’ve got FBI and CIA guys here. Other congressmen and the guy who sits alone and looks half asleep but really runs the NSA.”

  Closing his eyes, Bast visually moved around last night’s seating and counted four members of Congress, a cabinet member and a guy who ran a private militia and could take them all out. And those were just the obvious power players Bast knew personally.

  “Your father likes a good ego stroke.” Becca smiled as she said it.

  Bast had the opposite reaction. His mind rebelled. “Please don’t use the word ‘stroke’ when talking about my dad.”

  “Point is, we want you here,” Jarrett said, cutting in. “We don’t want him here.”

  Bast had no idea what to say or how to process any of this. His father hated Jarrett and blamed him for Bast going bad. To have life circle around to his dad asking Jarrett for a favor or any kind of approval knocked Bast back.

  So did the loyalty of his friends. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

  Becca exhaled and the sound suggested an explosion was coming. “Now you’re pissing me off.”

  “Bast?” Jarrett said his name quick and sharp, almost angry. “Let someone stick up for you for a change.”

  Bast stared at the man who started as a client and turned into a best friend. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Becca rolled her eyes. “Since you’re a lawyer, I’ll bet you think of something.”

  “Thanks.” It wasn’t enough but it was heartfelt and Bast suspected Jarrett would understand that.

  “Any time.”

  And Bast knew Jarrett meant it.

  TWENTY

  Kyra stood in the middle of her small apartment late Thursday night wearing her shorty pajamas and missing Bast. She regretted leaving the big bed and amazing tub, but she really hated going the whole day without even talking to him.

  He’d texted that he had to work through dinner and couldn’t come to the club. While impressed he’d finally figured out how to use a phone and stay in touch, not seeing him made work dull and long. So did the bore who told her all about his place in Paris and how he’d love to show her the cafés. Yeah, because that kind of line worked on her.

  Feeling
lonely and grumpy, she eyed up the ice cream in her freezer. If you shouldn’t eat after five she wondered if it was okay to wait and eat again at two. Technically, it was morning and ice cream included dairy, so . . .

  The short set of rapid knocks had her jumping. Her cell started buzzing a second later. She swiped it as she headed for the door. A glance at the screen and out the peephole confirmed both messages came from the same person. The one person she ached to see—Bast.

  She opened the door with excitement jumping in her stomach. He’d come over and the gesture had her all light and floaty . . . and his frown killed her mood.

  He did a quick sweep of his gaze down her body and up again. “Why are you here?”

  Seemed obvious to her. “I live here.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he stepped past her and pushed the door shut behind them. “I meant, why aren’t you at my house?”

  That was where she wanted to be. On his couch, waiting for him to come home. Sharing a late snack and dragging him up the stairs. The agenda worked for her.

  But she didn’t want to assume and he wasn’t exactly throwing open the front door and handing over a key. Hell, he still wanted their time together to be a secret. At least she thought that was true because he hadn’t made a move to downgrade their status.

  Sitting in the club, night after night, he treated her like a friend’s sister and nothing more. Forget that he spent the later part of those evenings lodged inside her, running his tongue all over her.

  She shivered at the memory and tried to pull her mind back to the present. That meant ignoring Bast’s hot charcoal suit and rumpled hair, and staying focused. “I’ve been there since, what, Saturday? That’s five days.”

  “And?” His frowned deepened. Who would have thought that was possible?

  “I needed clothes.” Okay, she knew that was lame but it was easier than asking the question she wanted to ask. She could confront him about his assy behavior and deal with his ex-wife haunting him any day of the week.

  This topic was different. Asking him if he still only viewed her as a convenient sex partner crossed over to emotional danger territory. Because he could say yes.

 

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