Find Me Maggie (The Misadventures of Maggie Mae)

by Beth Yarnall

  I popped up out of my seat and tapped my bare wrist. “We’re behind schedule. I should’ve been naked and finding religion an hour ago.” Unzipping my dress, I started for my bedroom, hoping some skin would make him forget all about my brother and Sergei. I turned back and looked at him over my bare shoulder. “I’ll be in the bedroom assuming the position if you’d like to join me.”

  My dress slid down the rest of the way to pool at my ankles. I kicked it at him, hitting him mid-chest. He practically threw his computer across the room and leapt off the couch, chasing me until we hit the bed. We landed in a twisted pile of limbs, struggling to rip each other’s clothes off. And then he kissed me and I forgot all about Miguel and Sergei.

  By the time we were completely naked and rolling around on the bed I couldn’t remember my own name. Everything went out of my head except what Super Agent was doing with his hands and oohhhh…his mouth. His glorious, glorious mouth.

  Chapter Three

  I woke up with Super Agent’s warm body pressed against my backside, his arm around me and his leg over mine. It was like even in sleep he kept me tethered to him as though he was afraid I’d slip away. Which was ironic because that was exactly what I intended to do.

  Wiggling like a deranged belly dancer, I was able to work myself free without waking him up. I’d worn him out pretty good so it was little wonder he slept so hard. I managed to find the dress I’d worn to dinner with Super Agent and went into the bathroom to put it on. How I looked was going to be important. I couldn’t exactly waltz into the club in my flannel PJs with my hair giving Medusa a run for her money.

  Satisfied with how I looked, I tiptoed past a still-snoozing Super Agent with my high heels in hand and made it out of my apartment. I couldn’t have come up with an excuse for why I was leaving right after melting the sheets with Super Agent. Not one he’d buy anyway.

  The club was in Phoenix, which was only twenty minutes from my Scottsdale apartment, but I sweated the whole way, wondering if Super Agent was going to wake up pissed off and catch up with me. I’d left my cell phone at home on purpose. Mostly because I didn’t put it past him to use his FBI-Special-Agent skills to track me like the dog I was. The guilt was killing me, but I couldn’t get it out of my head ever since Super Agent had said his name that Sergei was involved in or knew about what my brother was up to.

  And I knew just where to find Sergei at one forty-five a.m. I pulled up to the front of EGO, the nightclub Sergei had opened just before we split up, and handed my key to the valet. There was still a line of people waiting to get in even though last call was in fifteen minutes. I sashayed my way to the front and was relieved to find Billy working the door.

  He did a double take when he saw me. “Maggie?”

  “Yup.” I jutted out a hip and propped my hand on it like I still garnered the VIP treatment. “I’m here to see Sergei.”

  He shook his head, no doubt remembering the way my last call with Sergei had gone down, and lifted the velvet rope to let me through. “Good to see you, sexy.” I was sure if I turned around I’d catch him checking out my ass, but I was too cool to find out.

  The place was pumping as loud and hard as my heart. And it was packed. I didn’t get why Sergei would go into business with Miguel when he already had a successful venture like this.

  I found Sergei holding court in the VIP section surrounded by women as usual. Another bouncer stood between me and the answer to my brother’s whereabouts, but unfortunately I didn’t know this one.

  “I’m here to see Sergei.” I did the hip-jutting thing again, giving Built of Blocks a bored look.

  “You and every skirt in club,” he said in a thick Russian accent.

  “Tell him Maggie’s here.”

  “He know no Maggie.”

  “Really?” I moved the left strap of my dress and pulled it down to reveal the tattoo I’d had done during my time with Sergei.

  Built of Blocks’s thick eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “Pardon. I did not know.” He motioned me into the VIP lounge.

  More than one mistake marked my body, but this tattoo symbolized more than a drunken night gone wrong or a whim I couldn’t shake. This one had branded me as Sergei’s. He wore its match over his heart. They were of his own design and my forever key into his world.

  I strolled up to the booth where Sergei lounged with a blonde draped on one side and a brunette on the other and waited for him to notice me. The only way to get Sergei’s attention was to not demand it.

  He picked up his glass and shot it straight back. That’s when he saw me.

  “Myshka,” he breathed as he set his glass down with a thunk.

  I’d caught him by surprise. He wouldn’t have used his term of endearment for me if I hadn’t. His little slip had every head at the table turning in my direction.

  “May I have a word?” I asked with more confidence than I felt.

  “Leave,” he said with a wave of his hands.

  They slid out of the booth one at a time, passing me with interested looks and flat-out curiosity. The blonde’s jealousy raked over me like claws. I’d have punched her, but I could tell she was just too stupid for me to put the effort out.

  “Sit,” Sergei told me in his lightly accented English. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thank you.” I eased into the booth, keeping a respectable distance. “Do you know where Miguel is?”

  “I am fine. How are you?”

  “Fine. Miguel?”

  He made a rude sound and finished off the rest of his drink. We eyeballed each other for a moment. Normally when I run into someone I’ve gone out with I wonder what I ever saw in him. Not true of Sergei. I remembered exactly why I’d been with him for as long as I had. Setting aside his big, tall, blond, hot Russian-ness, he was charismatic in a way few people are. With him I’d lost all commonsense, the ability to form a single original thought and my virginity.

  “So it’s true,” he said.

  “What?”

  “He was smart enough to skip town, but not smart enough to do it without Kostya’s money.”

  “What are you talking about? How would Miguel get ahold of your uncle’s money?” Kostya was more than Sergei’s uncle, he was as mobbed-up as you could get. If what Sergei was saying was true, my idiot brother didn’t just steal from a mobster. He stole from the mob boss himself.

  He got the attention of a cocktail waitress and held up two fingers. Shit. This meant he was about to tell me a story I didn’t want to hear.

  He ran his dark gaze over me, no doubt taking in what had changed about me while also cataloging what hadn’t. He reached out and moved the strap of my dress, revealing the tattoo, his tattoo. “You still have it.”

  “Don’t you?”

  He lifted his shirt, giving me an eyeful of sculpted abs and my tattoo atop his perfect pec. All too soon he covered it back up. “It’s good to see you, Maggie. You look good.”

  “Thank you. So do you.”

  The waitress deposited our drinks. Sergei picked up his glass, prompting me to do the same. He clinked his against mine.

  “To Miguel.”

  I took a sip of what I knew to be the very best tequila on earth. It had always been nothing but the best for Sergei.

  “I helped him start up a new investment firm,” Sergei began. “I didn’t realize he’d turned it into a Ponzi scheme until after Kostya had invested a large sum of money and Miguel had run off. I started getting phone calls from my uncle three days ago, asking where Miguel and his money were. I love your brother, but he’s an idiot. Kostya’s looking for him. God help him if he’s found.” He downed the rest of his drink.

  My brother was a flaming idiot to run off with Kostya’s money. And he was a dead idiot for sure if Kostya got a hold of him.

  “Can you get me in to see your uncle?” I asked.

  “Why? Unless you’ve got two and a half million dollars, you’re not going to sway him. He wants his money and to set an example.”

&n
bsp; “Please?” It was the second time tonight that I’d begged a favor from a man on behalf of my brother. I hated asking for favors and avoided asking for them like you’d avoid your creepy uncle who hugged too long and always wanted you to sit on his lap.

  If Kostya didn’t kill Miguel I was going to for sure.

  Sergei slid out of the booth and held his hand out for me to do the same. “I’ll take you to him, but I can’t promise you’ll get anywhere with him. He’s not a charitable man on a good day. And since he lost two and a half mil he’s barely civil.”

  I put my hand in his and stood up. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Sergei elected to ride in my car and have his chauffeured limousine follow us. I’d refused to ride in his limo. I wanted my own wheels should things go south with Kostya.

  He directed me to the one restaurant in Phoenix that served authentic Russian cuisine. Ironically, Sergei didn’t like Russian food any more than he liked vodka, so he’d never taken me there.

  I parked in the back as Sergei instructed. He put his arm around me as we approached the entrance. I let him. This was some kind of signal to the men at the door that I was allowed to enter. The inside of the restaurant was much fancier than the outside with plush chairs and heavy wooden tables. We found Kostya sitting alone at a table with a laptop open in front of him.

  “Dyadya,” Sergei said, drawing the old man’s attention.

  I’d met Kostya several times before when Sergei and I were together, so he recognized me. He said something in Russian to Sergei, and Sergei answered him back the same way. The old man shook his head sadly.

  “Sit,” Kostya instructed. “Not you,” he told Sergei. “The pretty one. You give this to Anya.” He held out an envelope to Sergei. “And don’t come back until I call for you.” He turned to me when Sergei was out of earshot. “You have news of your brother and my money?”

  “No. If I knew where he was I would’ve dragged his ass in here and made him give it back to you.”

  “I don’t like being made a fool of.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Neither does my nephew.”

  I was pretty sure he was talking about more than Sergei’s business venture with Miguel. Sergei and I had some unfinished business that as far as I was concerned could stay unfinished.

  “And I don’t like having an idiot for a brother. Looks bad on my resume.”

  “Ha! Pretty and funny. I like you. Always did.”

  “Don’t forget smart. I’ll do what I can to get him back here…with your money.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “What makes you think you can convince him to do this?”

  “I have my ways. I’ll make you a deal: If I find my brother and bring him back here with your money, you don’t kill him.”

  “And if I find him first?”

  “Then I’ll have a dead idiot for a brother.”

  He barked out another laugh, smacking his palm on the table and making his computer jump. “I like you a lot. You have guts. I’ll make that deal with you. On one condition.”

  I never thought I’d get this far with the old man. He could slap whatever condition he wanted on the deal. “What’s that?”

  “Sergei goes with you.”

  Except that one.

  I thought about the FBI Special Agent lying naked in my bed right now and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him no, no way in hell. But then I thought about my mother and how she’d blame me for Miguel’s death even though I’d have nothing to do with it. Not to mention the fact that I’d also have a dead brother. On the other side was a possible road trip with Sergei and a very pissed-off boyfriend.

  “That won’t work for me,” I told him. “Sergei could tip you off.” There. Logic.

  “Are you calling me a cheat?”

  Shit. Not very well-thought-out logic. “Not you…Sergei.”

  “You know better.”

  Kostya didn’t know his nephew like I did. Sergei would cheat a nun out of her scriptures if it made him money. “I don’t think it would be a good idea if we spent time together.”

  “That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.”

  Shit. Shit. Double fucking shit!

  As I shook Kostya’s hand, sealing the deal, I cursed my stupid brother and his stupid greed. Kostya would get his money back, but my brother’s life was still up in the air. I’d make damn sure Kostya didn’t get his hands on Miguel…so I could kill him myself.

  Chapter Four

  I sneaked back into my apartment like a teenager breaking curfew. It was dead quiet. I kicked off my shoes and unzipped my dress just inside the door, then I tossed the dress down where I’d dropped it when I’d seduced Super Agent and tiptoed down the hall. I could just make out Super Agent’s form in the bed. I’d done it!

  The light clicked on. Super Agent sat up in the bed wearing a look I’d never seen before. A very scary look.

  “Where have you been?”

  At this rate my brother was going to cost me more than a few lost hours of sleep. I took off the rest of my clothes, hoping to distract him again. No such luck.

  “Maggie,” he warned.

  I sighed and slipped into bed next to him. “Out looking for Miguel.”

  “Is there a reason you didn’t take your cell phone?”

  “I forgot?”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I went to see the man whose money Miguel absconded with.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “What?”

  “That investment thing Miguel had going? Turns out it was some kind of Ponzi scheme he cooked up. Miguel decided to take off with the money. Two and a half mil and then some.”

  “Who was this man you went to see?”

  “Kostya Levkova.”

  “Uncle of Sergei Levkova and reputed mob boss…that Kostya Levkova?”

  “That’s the one.” Wait. How did he…? “How long have you been awake?”

  “Since you wiggled out of my arms and sneaked out the front door.”

  Shit. Shit. Triple shit! I was clearly way out of practice. Back in the day I would’ve been in and out with no one the wiser. Ugh. I could only guess what Super Agent had been up to while I was gone. His favorite thing…research.

  “You want to tell me about your real relationship with Sergei Levkova? The two of you didn’t just hang out, did you?”

  “We did some of that.” In between a little breaking and entering and having sex like a couple of coked-up rabbits.

  His gaze dropped to my chest, and I was pretty sure he wasn’t checking out my rack. “And getting matching tattoos.”

  “Yeah, there was some of that too. You really want to hear about me and another guy?”

  “I really don’t like being lied to.”

  I went up to my knees and pointed at him. “And I really don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do.” Technically.

  He flipped the covers back, got out of bed (naked!) and started gathering his clothes.

  “Where are you going?”

  He answered without looking at me. “Home.”

  “Fine. You want to hear all about me and Sergei?”

  I climbed off the bed and went to my dresser, the one with the special drawer. I unlatched the mechanism to the secret compartment and pulled out an envelope. Stomping all the way over to where Super Agent stood with his clothes bundle in his arms, I grew more and more furious.

  There were very few things Super Agent didn’t know about me. He’d had me under surveillance for nearly a year while he investigated my dead senator ex-boyfriend. What wasn’t in my FBI file he got to fill in by watching me day in and day out. This envelope contained one of the few things almost no one knew. The most precious and painful one.

  I thrust the envelope at him with a look that dared him to take it this one step too far. There was no going back from this. He’d have stripped me bare of the most private parts of my life. We’d been on uneven ground from the start. This would put us miles apart. Miles I wasn’t
sure we could ever cross.

  “Well?” I challenged. “Aren’t you going to take it?”

  He put his palm up, pushing the envelope back at me. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? You aren’t just accusing me of lying. What else are you accusing me of? Go on. Say it.”

  “What am I supposed to think when you sneak out in the middle of the night to see your ex-boyfriend?”

  “Right. Because that’s my MO. Sneaking off to see other men still stinking of sex and you.” It was kinda true in this case, but not the way he was making it out to be.

  “Maggie.” He dropped his clothes and came toward me. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else.”

  Then he was really going to hate the little road trip I was about to take with Sergei.

  “You either trust me or you don’t. Which is it?”

  “I trust you.”

  I glared at him for another minute before turning around and putting the envelope back. It was best left there hidden away in the dark where I didn’t have to think about it. I could feel his eyes on me as I climbed back into bed and turned away on my side. After a moment I felt the bed dip on the other side and the light went out.

  Super Agent came up behind me and put his arm around me (still naked!). “I’m sorry.” He nuzzled my neck.

  “If you think you’re getting any more tonight you’re as crazy as my Aunt Daisy.”

  He chuckled. “I won’t push my luck.”

  “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since I came home.”

  Super Agent kissed me goodbye the next morning, putting a little extra effort into it, which meant that by the time he was done I was swaying like a drunken sailor on deck during a massive storm.

  “Wow” was all I could manage.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” He opened the door to go off to work, but that’s as far as he got. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I peeked around Super Agent’s large frame to see who had made him go from zero to pissed-off in three-point-four seconds. For the love of all that’s fair!

  Sergei.

  The two squared off like a couple of bucks in mating season. I rolled my eyes at them and went in search of coffee. If it had been seven p.m. instead of a.m. I would’ve hit the hard stuff. It was way too early to deal with the waves of testosterone that pumped off of the two of them.