No, I let Evelyn walk out of my office too easily yesterday. The stakes are too high for me, and not high enough for her. She needs to keep her mouth shut about me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.
10
Evelyn
“Those lousy assholes.” I mutter as I slam my front door. The chain lock rattles against the wood, reminding me of its existence, though I never bother to use it. One of the benefits of renting an expensive apartment is that I don’t have to worry much about crime. The downside is that without a job, I can’t really afford to live here anymore. And judging by the interview I just had, my situation isn’t about to change for the better.
I should have probably been suspicious when I was called in for a last minute interview at Bitner Incorporated, a company that does very similar things to VI and is thought of as one of Edward’s competitors. Truth is, they’re smaller and rarely beat VI in a deal, and Edward doesn’t think much of them.
I guess I fooled myself into thinking that maybe they were interested in hiring me to get a leg up on VI, and although I’m not the type to divulge company secrets, even from a company or CEO that has treated me so poorly, I would probably be a very good fit for them. As it turned out, the interview was more of a big joke. On me.
Right away, all of the questions were about Edward. Not even about VI, but Edward himself. And me. And our relationship. It became clear very quickly that they had heard about the circumstances around why I left and were curious. Edward’s twisted version of the circumstances, anyway. I didn’t even bother to ask what he’d been saying, it was obviously not flattering from the questions that were being asked.
I’m angrier at myself for almost losing my composure. I didn’t exactly burst into tears, but I could feel them brimming at the edges of my eyes and I wasn’t the only one that noticed. At least they apologized at that point. “It’s not that you aren’t qualified,” they explained. “We just can’t risk crossing Edward right now. But maybe in the future…”
Turns out they really only called me in as a curiosity. To see someone that pissed him off in ways they wish they had the balls to do themselves. They aren’t willing to go to war with Edward. Certainly not about this. Not about me. It was a complete waste of an afternoon.
Not that I had anything better to do.
I yank on the straps of my pumps as I balance myself against the armrest of my couch, and then fling them into the hallway. The rest of my suit comes off on my way into the bedroom. I’m not one to give up on something easily, but after the day I’ve had, followed by a discouraging couple of weeks of job hunting and knowing that there is someone out there actively bad mouthing me, I can’t help but throw myself down onto my bed and let the tears finally fall.
I don’t like to throw myself a pity party too often, but sometimes just letting it all out is cathartic, and this time is no exception. It only takes me about ten minutes before I’m feeling better and push myself up. Come on, Evelyn. You’re stronger and smarter than this. Figure it out.
I just need a plan.
I pull on some comfy sweats, now that my little breakdown is over. I’m not planning on going anywhere for the rest of the day, and the only person that is going to see me is the pizza delivery boy that I’m now dialing for. Pizza always helps me think.
I spend about fifteen minutes absently browsing the job boards, but there’s nothing I haven’t already applied for that is in my field. It may be time to think outside the box, though. I can’t imagine that Edward’s reach, however impressive, spans every job and company in the city. Maybe I’ll ask the pizza guy if they’re hiring.
I let out a heavy sigh as I pull up my finance spreadsheet, realizing that the only reason delivering pizzas is a bad idea is that it wouldn’t come close to paying my rent. I have enough money saved up for another couple of months, but that will pretty much clean me out. Obviously, waiting that long to do anything would be a terrible idea, since by then my desperation would be even worse. I haven’t even replaced my cell phone yet since I want to wait until I have a steady paycheck first, or at least the promise of one. If this goes on much longer I might even start to seriously consider moving in with Jackie.
She offered, of course. But as much as I like hanging out with her, and she’s probably my closest friend since moving here, I know we’d be terrible roommates. Jackie is all about partying and sleeping around and drinking. I know I could maybe use a bit more of that in my life, but it would just be too much with her. She has very little sense of boundaries and a love for loud music late into the night. If I did get a job where I had to do get up early or do any work from home, it would be impossible.
So, what are my other options?
I could move back home to Toronto, but what do I have waiting for me there? My mother lives in a little condo in the suburbs, and I know she’d take me in, but that would be a temporary solution, at best. I couldn’t live with her for too long before I’d want to tear my hair out. She’s even worse than Jackie, but for much different reasons. I can just imagine how she’d expect me to call her every time I was going to miss getting home in time for supper.
Moving out with my best friend, Lila, once we started college, was the best thing I ever did, and I can’t imagine losing that freedom again by moving back home. But Lila isn’t an option anymore, either. She moved to Vegas to live with her new husband, Chase. I’m sure she would take me in, but what the hell would I even do there? Besides, he’s a professional poker player, and the two of them are always traveling the world. I don’t really want to stay in their house when they aren’t around. I’d feel like a freeloader.
But I’m not sure that staying in Chicago is going to work, either. Not unless I can find another job, and fast. I’m on a work visa that I’m sure Edward has already reported as being terminated. That means if I don’t find another job quickly, I’ll have to leave the country anyway, whether I want to or not. And considering I’ve only had two interviews in as many weeks, that’s looking less and less likely. I can’t even count today’s interview as a real one.
Which means I’ve only had one actual interview.
An interview where I was actually offered the job on the spot.
Working for a man I can’t possibly work for.
How did I manage to screw things up so badly? The one time I finally let loose and have a one-night stand with a badass beefcake, and he turns out to be a secret CEO of the only company willing to take a chance on me. Why the hell was he willing to do that, anyway? Maybe the only reason he offered it to me so quickly was because we slept together. Was it out of guilt?
Something tells me that Bash doesn’t let regret drive any decisions he makes. He probably forgot about me the moment I walked out of that back room at the bar. If I were smarter, I’d forget about him just as fast. Yet he’s all I’ve been thinking about.
Not just the sex. Of course, that was fantastic. I don’t know if it was the forbidden nature of doing it with a leather-clad outlaw, or that he’s so gorgeous, or if he was just that good, but every time I think about that night, I have to push it out of my head before I need to change my panties.
But I think about our meeting at Piston almost as often. The things he told me. He spends his days at Piston and his nights with his motorcycle gang. He’s like a reverse batman or something. It’s amazing that he can do both, but I guess that’s why he needed to hire Hans. And who knows how involved Sebastian really is in his club.
Maybe most shocking of all is how he manages to live with those secrets all on his own.
Can it really be true that no one in the whole world knows about his dual identity? How lonely must that be, to have no one to confide in? You can tell some people some things, and other people other things, but no one knows everything. How does he keep those lives so separate? It would drive me crazy. No wonder he acts like such an asshole all of the time.
So, why did he tell me?
Because he had no choice. Our accidental me
eting at both the bar and the office left me able to connect him, so without a deeper explanation, I might not have realized how important the secret was. How serious he was about me keeping it. It might not mean as much to me, but it means everything to him, and it must be tough knowing that a complete stranger like me knows about it now. I can’t imagine how stressful something like that would be. Especially if he really has spent so much time and energy keeping that secret for so long. Bad luck for both of us, me showing up at Axle’s on Saturday.
As much as it sucks for me, it might even be worse for him. That’s something I hadn’t even considered, but for some reason as soon as I do, a chill runs through my spine.
Before I can consider why, my apartment phone rings with the special tone that tells me it’s the downstairs security. As much as I appreciate how safe the building is, sometimes they’re a little excessive. I’ve told Charlie, the guard on duty most afternoons, to just let the pizza guys through without calling, but he always seems to forget. More likely he’s worried about getting in trouble if his supervisor sees him waving someone through without a verifying phone call.
I answer it. “Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Miss Silver, it’s Charlie here at security.”
“Hi, Charlie. Yes, I’m expecting him. Please send him up.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, ma’am.”
I absently hang up as I try to refocus my thoughts. What was it that caused that thrill of fear a moment ago? The fact that knowing Bash’s secret would be worse for him than it is for me. Why should that worry me? It’s really more his problem than mine.
I mean, I can see why it’s so important for him to keep it. If the wrong person links him to both parts of his lives, it could be catastrophic. He could lose his business and his club. Or his family, as he puts it. Although, calling a motorcycle club a family is probably similar to calling a group of mobsters a family. They’re both just as dangerous.
He’s lucky that it was someone like me that figured out his secret. Not everyone can be trusted. Not that he knows that he can trust me. Despite having been inside me, he doesn’t know me at all.
The knock at the door seems to jar my thoughts, this time dropping them into the right order instead of distracting me. The thrill of fear is back as I grab my purse from the table. Bash doesn’t know that I’m trustworthy. He doesn’t know me at all. And he’s a dangerous man with millions to lose. In that context, I’m surprised he let me leave Piston at all, but how long until he comes to the conclusion that letting me go was a huge liability?
My appetite has suddenly gone, but the pizza is waiting, so I yank open the door, wallet in hand.
My heartbeat disappears just as quickly as my appetite as I stare into Bash’s eyes, glowering at me from the other side.
11
Bash
“Wow, you look like shit.” It probably isn’t the best way to open a conversation, but Evelyn has surprised me. I was expecting the door to be answered by the same made-up, well-dressed woman that I saw both at the bar and the office. Instead, Evelyn is dressed in sweatpants and an old baggy shirt that almost completely hides the sumptuous figure that I know she’s got under it. Worse yet is her face. Her makeup looks like she’s about to go audition for the job of the sad clown at the circus. Her mascara is as thick under her eyes as a pro football player, and there are long streaks of it dried down along her cheeks. Her lipstick is smudged all around her lips, as well. She’s also obviously shocked to see me. If her eyes get any wider, they might roll right out of the sockets.
“Wh… What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I don’t doubt that, which is why I was surprised you had them send me right up. I assumed you would have seen me on the security cam. Place like this must have a feed directly into your TV from the lobby, no?”
Evelyn glances back behind her for a moment and I can see a TV back there, but it’s off. She turns back to look at me, still seemingly out of sorts.
“I was expecting… I ordered dinner. I thought you were them.”
“Ah. Well, no thanks, I’m heading to the club right after this.”
She looks at me, confused for a moment, then gets the joke but doesn’t seem to appreciate it. I see the familiar fire return to her eyes, finally.
“What do you want, Bash? Or Sebastian. Or whatever the hell you want to be called right now.”
“Bash is fine. I’m headed to the club.” As I’m wearing my leather and cut, I assumed that was obvious. “You going to invite me in, or what?” I’m feeling a bit conspicuous standing in the hallway outside of her apartment, especially given the security they have going on downstairs. I know that guard was as surprised as I was when Evelyn told him to pass me right through, no questions asked. I probably don’t fit the profile of her typical gentleman caller.
The look on Evelyn’s face shifts again, and for a moment, she almost looks worried. She glances over my shoulder and hesitates before finally stepping back with a little nod. Her dark raccoon eyes are watching me carefully.
“Been crying?” I ask as I walk through to her living room. It’s a nice apartment. Not surprising, given what I’m sure Edward was paying her. EAs to men like him don’t come cheap. Especially when you’re fucking them. Still, without that salary, how much longer can she afford this place?
“Crying? Why would you—”
“Your eyes.” I say, without turning back to face her. The view from her apartment is impressive. I can even see the Piston tower from here. When I finally do turn, I’m amused to see her wiping at her makeup with a tissue as she stares at the dark circles in a mirror near the front door.
“Listen, I won’t stay long. I just dropped by to see if you’ve reconsidered my offer. I would have called, but you only had your cell phone number listed, and I think that may have been the one you left floating in a beer glass at Axle’s on Saturday.”
“Why would I have reconsidered?” She stops what she’s doing, smudged tissue in hand, and looks back over to me. “Was my ‘no’ not clear enough?”
There’s that spunk that I find so appealing. Even looking as she does, it’s not hard to see the beauty underneath. I was exaggerating quite a bit when I said she looked like shit. I can’t imagine her ever not looking sexy, even disheveled as she is now. It’s a bit disappointing that she doesn’t seem at all happy to see me. Or does she have more control over her emotions than I suspect? If anything, she looked scared of me at first. Now she’s back to looking pissed off.
“Do you enjoy this view?” I ask, gesturing toward the window behind me. I don’t bother waiting for an answer. “A view like this… a place like this… I can’t imagine it’s cheap. How much longer can you afford to live here without a job? How many more offers are you getting? From what I hear, Edward hasn’t stopped slinging shit your way at every business and company within his wide reach. Even if you manage to apply somewhere that he hasn’t gotten to yet, he’ll hear about it. And he’ll come down hard. Most companies can’t take that kind of pressure.”
“Except the big, bad Bash, is that it? You’re the only one man enough to stand up to him?”
“What little business we’ve done with VI, we can afford to lose. I don’t intimidate easily. Most companies just wouldn’t think you worth the fight.”
That seems to take the wind out of Evelyn’s sails a bit harder than I meant. She bites her lip and takes a deep, steadying breath before responding, but she’s quieter now. “And why do you? Why do you care? Because we had sex? You don’t strike me as the type to feel like he owes a girl anything just because she fucks him. Or is it that you think that by hiring me, I’m going to be your personal sex slave?”
I can’t help but smile at both the memories of fucking Evelyn, and the way those words sound coming out of her lips. I like when she talks about fucking me. “You’re right. I don’t feel like I owe you a damn thing. And this has nothing to do with how well you can suck dick, or whether you’re going to be giving
me lunchtime quickies in the board room.”
“Good, because that’s never going to happen.”
“Sucking my dick, or the quickies?” I’m grinning again as she rolls her eyes.
“Are we done here? I’m expecting my dinner any minute, and you must have some major crime spree to plan.”
I grab the edges of my cut, pulling on them tensely. I know the look that my leather evokes in people, and I’ve always appreciated that shield. It keeps most people away. Today it’s only making things more difficult. “I told you the other day, you don’t know who or what I am. You only know what you think you see.”
“Right, of course. You’re just a poor, misunderstood, millionaire biker. Well, we all have problems. Try having the goddamn CEO of a massive, global company spread lies about you all over the city. You know how I spent my day today? Being laughed at in an interview where the only question that even remotely related to the job was when they asked whether or not I was hired at VI before or after I started sleeping with Edward.”
Her fire is blazing now, and she’s literally shaking with anger. “That’s what’s happening to me right now. Me. Someone who has tried to live her life by the book, and with honesty and integrity. Who the hell knows what stories Edward is telling people? What type of twisted bullshit. But go ahead, Bash. Why don’t you tell me why the lies that you tell about yourself, on a daily basis, has led to you being so misunderstood? Tell me why you deserve anyone’s sympathy.”
She’s angry, and she has a right to be. Not at me, although I know I haven’t done a lot to endear myself to her, but at her shitty situation. Edward Stonewall breaks down people and companies all the time, but those are in a business setting where you can argue that it isn’t personal. What he’s doing now, to her, is very personal.
Bounty Page 61
