by Lauren Rowe
“Hey, could you turn up the sound, man?” Josh calls to the bartender.
“... being told by federal authorities the terrorist plot was ‘sophisticated, imminent and massive,’” the reporter is saying.
I’m confused. They’re calling The Club terrorists? Maybe I don’t fully understand the implications of that word. The Club was plotting terrorism?
“... and that the terrorist organization has ties to the Russian government.”
Henn chuckles. “Dude, it’s like I’m a fucking ventriloquist.”
“Straight from your puppeteering mouth into the reporter’s,” Josh replies, his eyes fixed on the screen.
I’m totally confused. What the hell are Josh and Henn talking about?
An older woman with dyed blonde hair appears on-screen being escorted into a dark sedan.
“... in this footage from earlier, we see one of the alleged terrorists being taken into custody,” the reporter says.
“Is that Oksana?” I ask.
Henn nods. “Yup.”
“She’s a terrorist?” I ask dumbly.
The look that passes between Henn and Josh in reaction to my question makes me feel like I must be having a total blonde moment. What the heck am I missing here?
The reporter continues: “... the names of the two alleged terrorists killed during the raid have now been confirmed by authorities—”
“Henn,” Josh says insistently, yanking on Henn’s sleeve.
“Yeah, I know,” Henn says, batting Josh’s hand away like he’s swatting at a fly.
“... the two men killed in a shoot-out with federal authorities at the scene were Mak-sim Be-len-ko and Yu-ri Na-vol-ska,” the reporter says slowly, clearly doing her mighty best not to screw up the pronunciations of the names.
“Oh shit,” Josh says, beaming, and Henn high-fives him.
“Both,” Henn says.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
What are they talking about? My brain is struggling to process. The Maksim guy who got killed is obviously that creepy Max guy who ordered the hit on Sarah and demanded a freebie from her. Well, good riddance to that bastard and may he rot in hell. But who’s the other guy who died in the raid? Yuri something? Sarah mentioned a Yuri during our meeting with Agent Eric, I think—yeah, it was when Henn played that voicemail from her attacker—
I gasp. Holy shitballs. I just got it. Both. Henn meant that both men directly responsible for the hit on Sarah died today.
My entire body erupts in goose bumps.
Oh my God.
I don’t know how Jonas did it—and what Josh and Henn had to do with it, but those two bad-guys biting the dust today doesn’t seem to be a coincidence. It seems I’m not watching a news story unfold on the television screen—I’m watching a PR campaign.
“Josh,” I blurt. But before I can say another word, he’s standing next to me, pulling me up from my chair, and enfolding me in his muscled arms.
“We did it,” he breathes into my lips. “We saved the world.” With that, he kisses me with such ferocious intensity, my knees buckle.
When Josh breaks away from kissing me, he moves on to Henn, wrapping him in a massive bear hug. “Thank you,” he mumbles into Henn’s ear. “You’re my brother for life, man.”
My heart pangs at the earnest tone of Josh’s voice. If I didn’t realize it before now, today’s victory obviously meant something deeply personal for him.
Josh’s phone rings and he pulls away from Henn, rubbing his face. “Yo,” he says into the phone. “Yeah, we just saw it.” He presses his lips together, obviously containing his emotion. “I’m so proud of you, Jonas. You left no stone unturned.” He listens. “I know. We can finally breathe again... No, no, no. Don’t second-guess yourself, man. It was the perfect measure of force—like a fucking sniper.” He listens for long beat. “Wow. I didn’t know if they’d go for that. Fucking fantastic.” He beams a smile at Henn and me. “Yeah, they’re both standing right here. I’ll let you tell them yourself. Hey, guys. Jonas has some exceedingly good news for you.”
Josh hands the phone to Henn, a huge smile on his face, and puts his arm around me.
“Hey, big guy—congrats,” Henn says into the phone. “You’re welcome. I told you, I always wear a white hat.” He listens and his eyes go wide. “Tax free? Are you kidding me? Oh my God.” Henn looks at me, grinning from ear to ear. “Guess what Kitty Kat? We’re each getting our million bucks completely tax-free.”
“Tax free?” I shriek—and then I promptly burst into gigantic, soggy tears.
Josh embraces me and I wrap my arms around his neck, sobbing like a kid on her first day of kindergarten.
“Looks like you’ll be opening that PR firm sooner than you thought,” Josh coos into my ear. He kisses my wet cheeks and then my lips. “Ssh,” he says gently, stroking my back. “You did so good today, babe. You deserve every penny. You kicked ass.”
Clearly, he thinks I’m crying about the money. And I am. That’s a shitload of money. Holy shitballs, especially tax-free. But that’s not the biggest reason I’m crying, I don’t think. Mostly, I think I’m just relieved that the threat of danger to Sarah (and myself) is now, finally, blessedly, over. And I’m also sobbing with relief that I’m almost certainly not gonna get carted off to prison today—which is good, because God help me if I had to call my dad from jail. And, finally, I think I’m crying for no other reason than the fact that I really, really need a full eight hours of sleep. Holy Sleep Deprivation, Batman—I can’t keep going like this. Even the Party Girl With a Hyphen needs to freaking sleep occasionally, for the love of God!
“Aw, babe, ssh,” Josh coos, cradling me in his strong arms and kissing my tears. “This is great news—nothing to cry about.”
But my body won’t stop wracking with sobs. I squeeze Josh tighter and press myself into his broad chest with all my might.
Josh chuckles and squeezes back, kissing every inch of my salty, wet, snotty face, and whispers in my ear. “We did it, babe. It’s over now.” He puts his lips right against my ear. “Well, this settles it once and for all: you’ve definitely got a vagina.”
I burst out laughing through my sobs, and he laughs with me, holding me close.
After a moment, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and when I pull my nose out of Josh’s neck, Henn’s holding up the phone to me. “Sarah wants to talk to you for sec.”
I wipe my eyes and take the phone from Henn.
“Hi, babycakes,” I say. “Congratulations.”
“Kitty Kat!” Sarah shrieks. “You’re a mill-i-on-aire!”
I laugh and wipe my eyes again. “So I’ve heard,” I squeak out, my voice cracking. “I can’t believe it.”
“Aw, Kat,” Sarah says, her voice breaking along with mine. “You were so brave today.”
“Oh my God, Sarah, no, I wasn’t brave at all,” I reply. “I was totally crapping my pants the whole time.”
Sarah laughs. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“I can’t wait to hear about D.C.,” I reply.
“Ha! Talk about pants-crapping. Jeez. I was in the room with all those men in suits and I was so nervous, I kept imagining myself hopping on the table and tap dancing like a frog in a top hat.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Exactly. The whole meeting, I was like, ‘fleffer fleegan geebah doobah.’”
I laugh.
“But Jonas was masterful.” She sighs. “Oh, Kat. He’s incredible.”
“Things going well with you two?” I ask.
“Amazing-incredible-never-been-happier-best-case-scenario. Gah! I’m so in love, it hurts.”
I giggle.
“We’re gonna need to do a good-old-fashioned sleepover when I get back so I can tell you all about it.”
“Coolio. I’ll bring the champagne,” I say.
“Hell yeah, you will,” Sarah says. “Seeing as how you’re now a fancy mill-i-on-aire.”
“Hey, aren’t you a fancy mill
-i-on-aire, too?” I ask.
Sarah giggles. “Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” She squeals. “I keep forgetting about that.”
I roll my eyes to myself.
“Okay, I’ll bring the champagne,” Sarah says. “You bring the chocolate. If you can peel yourself away from Josh for a night, that is,” she says coyly. “Have you two gone off like a nuclear bomb yet?”
“Um, yeah, pretty much,” I say, my eyes drifting to Josh’s face. He’s watching me intently, his blue eyes sparkling.
“The good kind of nuclear bomb, I hope?” she asks.
“Is there a bad kind?”
“Uh. Yeah. There is.”
“Well, it’s the good kind, then. The very, very good kind.” I sigh. “Oh, Sarah.”
“Oh, Kat.”
“So when are you coming home?”
“A couple days. We’re gonna swing by New York first to visit—oh hang on.” She says something obviously not intended for me. “Okay, my sweet love, hang the fuck on. Yes, I know. Patience, hunkster.” Now she’s back to me on the phone. “Jonas wants to talk to Josh again. He’s a wee bit amped right now,” she whispers. “He’s kinda bouncing off the walls. God, he’s so cute.”
I laugh. “Okay. But—” My voice breaks with emotion again. “I love you, Sarah. Please just know I love you so much. I’m so frickin’ relieved you’re healthy and safe.”
Sarah’s voice instantly floods with emotion. “I love you, too, Kitty Kat. And I’m so frickin’ relieved, too.”
I hold out the phone to Josh, wiping my eyes, and he grabs it from me.
“Yo.” Josh listens for a beat. “Tonight?” He suddenly looks stricken. “Dude, no way.” Josh looks at me pointedly as he listens again. “Because I have something extremely important to do here in Vegas tonight, that’s why.” He rubs his face. “Jesus Fucking Christ.” He exhales. “Fine. But I’ll come tomorrow night, not tonight... . Because I can’t, that’s why, motherfucker... . Because I’ve got something I need to do here in Vegas tonight... . So what? You head out to see him tonight and I’ll come tomorrow—no big deal. Because I’ve got something to do, Jonas. Chill the fuck out.” He listens and then grins broadly. “It’s none of your business what it is.” He laughs. “Well, I’m not saying yes or no, but if it were that, then I think you’d agree that’s something extremely important.” Josh looks at me lasciviously, like a wolf scoping out a bunny. “Oh, bro, you have no idea.”
My clit begins faintly buzzing.
Josh laughs. “It’ll be fine, Jonas, trust me. When you’re telling Uncle William the news, just hold up a photo of a trout and he won’t even notice what you’re saying.” He belly laughs. “Okay. Bye. You, too. Oh, hey, Jonas?” He pauses. “I’m proud of you, man. Remember the text I sent the other day? Pretend I just sent you another one just like that.” He snickers. “Sorry. I know. Fuck me.” He slaps his cheek hard, making me jump back with surprise. “Yeah, I did it, cocksucker.” He laughs. “Okay. See you tomorrow, bro.”
Josh hangs up and looks at me mournfully. “Well, Party Girl, I’ve got some bad news. I gotta hop a flight to New York tomorrow morning, first thing.”
“Oh,” I say, the wind completely knocked out of my sails. I was really looking forward to spending a few days (and nights) alone with Josh in Vegas, just the two of us living out our sick-fuck fantasies together before being forced to leave this bizarre bubble and return to real life (and our separate cities). I don’t know if this thing with Josh (whatever it is) is going to carry over into the real world or not—and if not, I don’t feel ready to find that out. “Why do you have to go to New York?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from sounding too hurt.
“Jonas and I have to talk to our uncle about something important,” Josh continues, “and Jonas insists we do it as soon as humanly possible.” He twists his mouth. “And, unfortunately, Jonas is one hundred percent right about that. It’s not something that should wait.”
“I’ll be heading off tomorrow, too,” Henn says. “Jonas said the feds want me to meet with them in D.C. to help them sort through the database. But, hey, that still leaves us tonight to celebrate, right guys? It’s not every day a guy (or girl) saves the world, huh? And especially not with his best friends.”
Josh and I exchange a look. What have we been thinking? We went on and on about launching into our sick-fuck fantasy fulfillment the minute our mission was complete—but, clearly, that’s a nonstarter. There’s no way in hell either of us would ever let our beloved Henny celebrate this incredible victory all by his little, brilliant, quirky self. I make a face at Josh and he smiles wistfully, obviously resigned to our sudden change of plans for tonight.
“Of course, we’re gonna celebrate, Henny,” I say.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Josh says, fist-bumping him. “And we’re gonna do it in style, my man. Leave it all to me—I’m gonna make sure we have the night of our fucking lives.”
Henn flashes Josh a look of appreciation and excitement that’s so freaking adorable, I want to throw a little rhinestone vest on him and toss him into my brand new Gucci purse.
“Hey, I’ve got a brilliant idea,” I say. “How ’bout we fly Hannah Banana Montana Millikin into Vegas on the next flight to celebrate with us?” I look at my watch. “There’s still plenty of time to get her here in time for dinner, isn’t there?”
Josh looks at his watch. “There sure is. Great idea. I suddenly feel like we need some additional staffing on that PR campaign.” He winks.
“What do you think, Henny?” I ask. “You up for letting Hannah Banana Montana Millikin crash our party?”
Henn grins. “Awesome.” He raises one eyebrow. “As long as you tell her to wear her glasses.”
“I’ll tell her,” I say.
“You know,” Josh begins, his wheels obviously turning. “As long as Hannah Banana Montana Milliken is gonna come all the way out here, it’d be a crying shame to send her back home tomorrow. How ’bout you two girls hang out for a few days and have some fun? We’ve still got Jonas and Sarah’s penthouse suite—I forgot to check out of it like Jonas asked me to.” He makes a face that says, Yeah, I’m a fuck-up. “When Henn and I leave, you and Hannah can stay a couple days in the penthouse like a couple of mill-i-on-aires. Have yourselves a mini-vacay, on me.”
“Really?” I squeal.
“Sure. Book spa appointments, go shopping, see Thunder from Down Under or whatever.” He laughs. “Order drinks by the pool, dine like queens, get pedicures and massages, do whatever the hell you girls wanna do for however long and I’ll pick up the tab. Go crazy, all of it completely on me.”
I’m trying to contain myself, but a strange noise erupts from my throat.
Josh laughs. “You’ve earned it, babe—you kicked ass today. We literally couldn’t have done it without you. And there’s no rush going back to Seattle, right?—you’re still on my dime for the PR campaign for another couple weeks.”
I’m giddy; I’m not gonna lie. But this seems too much to accept, even for me. “It’s too generous,” I say. “I’d love to hang out with Hannah for a few days, but I can certainly foot the bill myself, you know. If you haven’t heard by now, I’m gonna be a mill-i-on-aire.”
Josh swats at the air. “Fuck no. You can’t piss away your finder’s fee money on debauchery—you’re gonna need every dime for Party Girl PR, remember?” He winks. “If anyone’s gonna piss away their money on debauchery, it’s gonna be me. It’s kinda my specialty.”
I throw my arms around Josh’s neck again, and for a second, I’m in serious danger of bawling again. “Thank you, Josh,” I breathe.
Josh kisses my cheek and squeezes me tight. “I’ll be counting the days ’til I see you again,” he says softly into my ear, his voice low and sexy. “I can’t wait to get started on what we talked about.”
“I can’t wait, either,” I say into his neck, inhaling his cologne.
We break apart from our clinch and I move on to Henn, wrapping him in a t
ight hug. “This is gonna be the best night ever in the history of the world, Henny. You’re gonna absolutely adore Hannah.”
“Hey, when it comes to celebrating victory over the Evil Empire, the more the merrier, I always say.”
“Well, duh,” I say. “Isn’t that what everyone always says after a long day of saving the world? ‘The more the merrier.’”
“It’s what they always say,” Henn agrees.
“Tell Hannah I’ll book the three o’clock flight for her on Alaska,” Josh says, looking at something on his phone.
“Okay, I’ll call her now. Thank you so much, Josh. She’s gonna be thrilled.”
Josh pulls me into him and kisses me gently. “It’s my pleasure, Kat.” He pushes himself into me and his erection juts against my hip. He presses his lips into my ear. “Have fun with your girlfriend—but make no mistake about it: the minute I get back from New York, you’re all mine.”
Chapter 14
Josh
“Excuse me, fellas,” Sarah says, scooting back from the dining room table. “Gonna head to the ladies’ room.”
When she stands up from the table, Uncle William stands, too, which prompts Jonas and me to do the same.
Sarah smiles shyly. “Wow, so chivalrous, fellas. Golly gosh. Thank you.”
The minute Sarah’s left the dining room and the three of us have settled back into our chairs, Uncle William leans forward, his blue eyes fixed on Jonas. “You gonna marry this girl?” he asks.
I’m utterly shocked by the question. I mean, I know Uncle William is an old-fashioned kind of guy and all, and Sarah’s obviously an incredible girl, and a perfect fit for Jonas, too, but Jonas only just met her, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way in hell Jonas is even thinking about taking a giant leap like marriage—
“Absolutely,” Jonas answers smoothly. “As soon as humanly possible, in fact.”
Uncle William chuckles and leans back in his chair. “Glad to hear it. Congratulations, son. Don’t let this one get away. I loved her the minute I met her.”
Jonas nods. “Me, too.”
