Trouble
Page 25
Before Paige Goldfarb became the latest addition to the Chicago elite, she was the highest-paid stripper at VIP’s, which none of my upstanding married male-friends are supposed to know. (All of them do.)
This is not judgment you’re hearing from me. I’m no Philpot. I admire Paige’s entrepreneurial spirit, and trust me, she was something to see working that pole.
Out of the blue, a long-lost relative died, leaving her the owner in full of the second-largest cosmetics company in the world—I won’t say which one out of respect for her privacy—and just like that, she went from ringing our bells after hours to sounding the closing bell at the Board of Trade.
Life is funny, isn’t it?
Following her back into the dining room, my eyes drift from her ass down her long legs. Paige has great taste. She’s wearing nude Michael Kors pumps that flex her calves attractively as she walks. Her slim hips swish under knee-length navy matte-jersey, and I consider asking her to dinner.
I’m about to catch her arm, when just like that, a ghost floats through my mind to shut it all down. Paige is mentally pushed aside by a girl with long blonde hair, green-hazel eyes, straight white teeth… A mohair vest I shoved open roughly to reveal a soft breast… Easy access to her hot, clenching center through the high slits in her skirt.
I called her a baby. She called me an old man—it still makes me chuckle. She challenged me to a drinking contest then she rocked me like a hurricane. My lower stomach tightens at the memory.
She tasted like cinnamon and expensive vodka, and she felt like fucking heaven. I’d planned to spend the rest of the night getting to know her better, repeating what we’d done spectacularly in the private billiards room, but she disappeared without a word. Left me high and dry with a bottle of champagne waiting in my suite. Amy…
A pang of… something tweaks in my chest, but I shake it away. My jaw tightens against the persistent memory. Two weeks she’s been haunting my dreams, and it is not like me. I don’t allow past memories to spoil future good times.
Lack of closure is all it is, failure to put a period on the end of that sentence. It’ll pass with time, and I’m not in want for opportunity, as you can see.
I glance to my left and my satisfaction is complete: Payback.
Troy Cox is glaring at me with ice in his eyes and murder on his mind. He’s having lunch with another old-Chicago asshole, his law partner Roland Dickerson, and his eyes are blazing with anger. I give him a superior lip twitch.
Yes, Cocksucker. What you’re imagining is exactly what just happened.
Paige steps away, returning to her table, and the look on Troy’s face is priceless. He’s so pissed, he’s turning pink. I want to laugh out loud, but I won’t embarrass Paige.
See? I’m not such a bad guy, and I know you’re wondering why he’s on my list.
Let me explain.
Troy “Cocksucker” Cox was new blood in Chicago the same time as me, six years ago, and while I worked my ass off to establish a first-class client list and a respectable place in the hierarchy, he proceeded to fuck every single heiress in a ten-mile radius. He was a total bastard about it too, trust me. Still is, from what I understand.
I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll just give you two words: John Mayer. Getting the idea? He even looks like the guy.
So once Troy made a pariah of himself, he realized he’d have to work for a living. None of that matters to me. I don’t hold peoples’ pasts against them. Everybody’s entitled to make mistakes. Until two weeks ago. Yes, the same time I met the sexy ghost—you’re quick.
Cocksucker went after my top client while I was out of town at the wedding of a close friend. That slick motherfucker took Charles Rimmel, the Charles Rimmel, to dinner at Longman and Eagle, as if I wouldn’t find out about it.
Janice, the world’s greatest secretary who also happens to be mine, is friends with the maître d’s at several of Chicago’s top restaurants, and she gets the heads up whenever one of my clients dines with the competition.
A shit-ton of whiskey was consumed that night, and I’d been trying to work out a way to pay Cox’s sorry ass back when the lovely Paige walked through that mahogany restroom door moments ago.
I turned around, and the look on her face said she had her own agenda. Her agenda was my revenge. Cocksucker’s been bragging how he was going to bag Goldfarb since she first stepped a black stiletto onto North Dearborn. Now the victor has been named, and it’s me.
Are you surprised the politics of Chicago’s upper class are so jaded?
You shouldn’t be.
Shit like this has been going on since the first courtesan traded the first kingly blowjob for an estate in Venice all the way back to the fourteen hundreds. Hell, it’s been going on longer than that. Ever heard of Bathsheba?
“That took long enough.” Evan Cole, my associate and right hand, leans back in his chair, a knowing smile on his face. “Did I see Paige Goldfarb ahead of you looking like the cat who ate the canary?”
“More like who deep-throated it.” I mutter, leaning forward to take the last hit off my vodka.
He exhales a laugh. “Shit, Marcus, I hope you tapped that. Her body is fucking killer.”
“It is,” I cut him off. “Intercourse, however, was not a part of that transaction. Are you finished? We’ve got our phone conference at two.”
He tosses his cloth napkin beside his plate. “Done and paid for.”
“Good work.” I stand and only cast one final dominant smirk towards Troy before we’re headed to the door. You’ll always swim in my wake, Cocksucker.
Our offices are on the East Loop, an easy walk from the restaurant. Out on the street, we head south to cross the river. My associate has his phone in hand, and an article on the Wall Street Journal website crosses my mind.
“Enjoy these business lunches while they last,” I casually observe. “Apparently they’re going the way of the dinosaur. Your generation doesn’t have time for power deals over martinis.”
He glances up. “I don’t remember voting on that at our annual meeting.”
I laugh. “Damn Millennials. Established cafés all over New York are shutting down as a result.”
“New York is not Chicago.” His phone is back in his pocket, and I remember why Evan and I instantly clicked. He’s an old soul. “And our firm doesn’t follow the rules. We rewrite them.”
“We are pretty independent.” Our building near the corner of Wacker and Michigan comes into view, and I shift us back to planning mode. “Any final thoughts on McGruder?”
In our pending conference, I plan to shut down an over-eager prosecutor set on destroying my second top client for insider trading. Evan’s a smart young lawyer, even if his arguments are obvious. He’s learning fast, and he gets points for finding the arguments himself.
“The accusation alone will do more damage—” My phone buzzes, and I hold up a finger as I take it from my breast pocket.
“Hold that thought.” Only one group of individuals is allowed to interrupt me mid-meeting. My little sister never calls, but I just saw her at the wedding. “Elaine? Everything okay?”
“Marcus!” Her voice is loud and cheerful. I relax. “Hope you’re not busy?”
“Actually, I’m right in the middle of—”
“I won’t keep you but a second. I need a favor.”
Evan’s face is confused, but family comes first. “Make it quick.”
“Patrick’s little sister just moved back to Chicago, and she’s looking for a job.”
“Is she an attorney?”
“She’s in public relations, marketing…”
“We don’t need a public relations person.”
“I didn’t mean for you to hire her.” We’re getting closer to the office, and I glance at my watch. One-fifty. “You know everyone in Chicago. I figured you could introduce her around, help her transition, meet the top brass.”
“Lainey, I really don’t have time right now. If you’ll call Jani
ce and get her on my calendar, I’ll see if I can fit her in.”
“That’s all I needed to hear! Thanks, Marc!” She’s so upbeat, I can’t help a smile.
“How’s Lane?” Her little son has become her favorite topic of discussion in the last two years.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe. He’s passed through the truck phase, and now he actually wants to paint! It’s amazing!”
“He’s a smart guy. Women love artists.” Evan pushes through the double glass doors, his mouth lined as he watches me making small talk. I know he’s right. We’ve got to finish planning. “Hey, I’m sorry, sis. I’ve really got to go.”
She exhales a laugh. “And now you know why I never wanted to be a lawyer. Careful you don’t wake up and find your life has passed you by.”
Shaking my head, I head for the elevator. “You would have made a fantastic lawyer, and I love my job.” End of discussion.
“Thanks for helping out.”
“I look forward to meeting your new little sister-in-law.”
“Oh! Don’t call her that. She’s very independent.”
“I will not call her your little sister-in-law. What do I call her?”
“I think she goes by Amalie now.”
“Fancy. Have her touch base with Janice.”
She sings out another thank you, and it’s the last thing I hear before disconnecting.
Amy
Pulling the coffee pod from the box, I drop it into the machine before sliding my mug in place and hitting the button.
“I don’t need Elaine’s older brother doing favors for me,” I grumble. The very idea makes me want to hurl. “I used to live here, remember?”
Sylvia (my mother) joins me in the kitchen already immaculately dressed in dark, form-fitted jeans and an oversized, white button-up blouse. Light-brown hair streaked with silver is clutched at the back of her neck, and her signature double-strand of chunky pearls peeks out of her open collar.
“I know, but pretend you do.” She smiles revealing straight white teeth. “Elaine wants to bond with you as a sister.”
“Sylvia,” I exhale loudly.
“Amalie,” she teases, using my full name. “Hold your own in a different battle.”
“You missed your calling, dear,” I kiss her head before sitting across from her at the small table. “You should’ve been an ambassador.”
“To France? I would have loved it, but your father hated the French.”
“Right.” I fight my visceral response to the mention of my late father, the anger burning deep in my stomach at the thought of how much she sacrificed for that man.
Her blue eyes twinkle with her laugh, and I push the past down and away.
For her. Always for her.
My mother is the wisest, most diplomatic person I’ve ever met. She had to be, living with that man as long as she did. It’s a path I will never follow. Women don’t need men, and I will not be held hostage the way my gorgeous mother was for years, her dreams and desires taking a backseat to his.
Stirring cream into my coffee, I take a long sip of the soothing hot liquid. We’re well into spring, but I still enjoy the warm embrace of a good cup of coffee in the morning. “Who is Elaine’s ridiculous older brother anyway?”
“Not so ridiculous, from what I understand.” She flips through a paperback on the table. “He’s quite impressive. He’s the attorney who helped get Derek out of that murder charge.”
My eyebrows go up, but I only concede a Hmm.
She proceeds to have a mini-rant. “As if Derek Alexander could ever be accused of such a crime. It’s a sure sign our legal system is broken when a man of his character and reputation is—”
“Mom,” I gently interrupt her. You’d think Derek Alexander was her own son the way she goes on about him. “What’s this impressive attorney’s name?”
Shaking her head, her agitation dissolves. “I can’t remember. Edward, I think? I only met him briefly at the wedding.”
Nodding, I swipe an apple out of the basket. “If it makes you happy, I’ll meet with Edward. Does he sparkle?”
“Why would he… Oh! Is that the new slang for gay? I don’t actually know. He didn’t seem to be, but I never can tell anymore—”
“No!” I can’t help laughing. “It’s a book… Nevermind. Should I call first?”
She’s still mildly confused. “Elaine said she’d take care of the whole thing. You just have to be at his office at eleven, and he’ll meet with you there.”
A quick glance at the clock says I have a few hours. “At least it’s Friday. Please tell Elaine I said thank you. And I can only hope she deserves my favorite brother.”
“That’s my girl. When you’re done, let’s have lunch at L15.”
My nose immediately wrinkles. “Good god, is that place still in business?”
She glances up concerned. “No good?”
“It’s the classic joke—the food is terrible, and the portions are too small!”
Now she laughs, a sweet, musical sound. Our mother really is too good to be true. “Then you pick the place. I won’t treat you like a tourist.”
“Is Millie’s still around?”
“On the East Loop?” I nod, and she concedes. “See you there at noon.”
Get One to Chase Today!
* * *
Also available in print and audiobook formats.
Books by Tia Louise
BOOKS IN KINDLE UNLIMITED
STAND-ALONE ROMANCES
Trouble, 2021*
Twist of Fate, 2021*
This Much is True, 2020*
Reckless Kiss, 2020*
Here with Me, 2020*
Wait for Me, 2019*
Boss of Me, 2019*
Stay, 2019*
Make Me Yours, 2019*
Make You Mine, 2018
When We Kiss, 2018
Save Me, 2018
The Right Stud, 2018
When We Touch, 2017
The Last Guy, 2017*
(*Available on Audiobook.)
* * *
THE DIRTY PLAYERS SERIES
PRINCE (#1), 2016*
PLAYER (#2), 2016*
DEALER (#3), 2017
THIEF (#4), 2017
(*Available on Audiobook.)
* * *
THE BRIGHT LIGHTS SERIES
Under the Lights (#1), 2018
Under the Stars (#2), 2018
Hit Girl (#3), 2018
* * *
PARANORMAL ROMANCES
One Immortal (Derek & Melissa, vampires)
One Insatiable (Stitch & Mercy, shifters)
* * *
eBOOKS ON ALL RETAILERS
THE ONE TO HOLD SERIES
One to Hold (#1 - Derek & Melissa)*
One to Keep (#2 - Patrick & Elaine)*
One to Protect (#3 - Derek & Melissa)*
One to Love (#4 - Kenny & Slayde)
One to Leave (#5 - Stuart & Mariska)
One to Save (#6 - Derek & Melissa)*
One to Chase (#7 - Marcus & Amy)*
One to Take (#8 - Stuart & Mariska)
(*Available on Audiobook.)
Descriptions, teasers, excerpts and more are on my website (link)!
* * *
Never miss a new release!
* * *
Sign up for my New Release newsletter and get a FREE Tia Louise Story Bundle!
* * *
Sign up now! (link)
About the Author
Tia Louise is the USA TODAY best-selling, award-winning author of super-hot and sexy romances. She'll steal your heart, make you laugh, melt your kindle... and have you begging for more!
Signed Copies of all books online at:
http://smarturl.it/SignedPBs
Connect with Tia:
Website
Instagram (@AuthorTLouise)
TikTok (@TheTiaLouise)
Pinterest
Bookbub Author Page
Amazon Author Page
> Goodreads
Snapchat
** On Facebook? **
* * *
Be a Mermaid! Join Tia’s Reader Group at “Tia’s Books, Babes & Mermaids” (link)!
www.AuthorTiaLouise.com
allnightreads@gmail.com