by Chelle Bliss
“I’ll do it. Anything you tell me to do, Nix, I’ll do.”
“Now get out of here before I change my mind.” I lean back and stare at her from across the desk. “I left a list of things for you to do on the kitchen counter. If you could get them done for me today, I’d appreciate it.”
Her heeled boots click against the floor as she jogs around my desk to my side. “Thank you,” she says before leaning forward and kissing my cheek. “You’ve made me the happiest girl in the world.”
I look into her eyes and wonder if she realizes what she’s asking of me. “You can still change your mind.” Hopefully, a little perspective and three days will be enough to make her realize she does have plenty to lose.
“I won’t,” she says, backing away slowly and heading toward the door with a little spring in her step. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
I nod, but I don’t reply.
“Nix.” She waits at the doorway. “I love you too.”
Just as I’m about to respond, she closes the door.
She just needs someone to believe in her. She’s never done anything to break my trust and has gone out of her way to please me since I saved her from a life no one should ever live, especially a kid. Getting her further involved in my business doesn’t sit well with me, but it is better that she learn a trade instead of going back to a life of stealing money from innocent people trying to survive, themselves.
Coco doesn’t know it, but if I do die, everything will transfer into her name immediately. She’ll be wealthier than she ever dreamed. She’s the only person I’ve been able to rely on and has been there for me as much as I’ve been there for her.
I watch on the surveillance camera in the hallway as she locks the door to the penthouse. She’s grown into a beautiful woman and doesn’t seem to be scarred from her childhood. Her face and body have filled out nicely; she’s no longer the scrawny kid I found covered in filth and tattered clothes. She’s short, but spending most of her life without enough food can do that to a person. I need to remember she’s an adult now and should be treated as such.
As much as her joining my world scares me, I can’t shelter her forever.
5
Kennedy
Thomas Dancey has been fantasizing about being balls deep in me all evening. His gaze is loaded with lust, and he keeps pulling at the collar of his dress shirt because he’s sweating.
“Another drink, Sally?” he asks me, arching a brow.
I knew early on in my research about Tom that my “Sally” persona would be the perfect one to bait him. I’m wearing a dark pencil skirt, brown reading glasses, and a pale pink cardigan. I took out my lip ring and fixed my hair in a high, loose bun. Beneath my cardigan, I’m wearing a tight cami that shows off my breasts. Men lose their shit for Sally’s slutty librarian look.
“I really shouldn’t,” I say, biting my lip demurely. “I don’t want to be too tipsy to see your office.”
“You’ll be fine.” He puts up a finger to signal the bartender for another drink.
Tom’s wife left him seven months ago, and I get the impression he hasn’t had a woman since. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, but awkward in a computer-nerd kind of way. The comb-over and yellow teeth don’t help matters.
“I still can’t believe you asked me out,” I say, looking up at him through my lashes. “Usually, powerful men like you don’t notice someone like me.”
His mouth drops open in shock. “I can’t believe that, Sally. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you said yes when I asked.”
I laugh lightly. “Well, you were such a gentleman, helping me when I spilled my paperwork all over the ground like a klutz.”
“It was my pleasure, really.”
The bartender sets our drinks down. Tom ordered club soda for himself, probably because he wants to be running on all eight cylinders when he tries to get in my pants later. I fucking hate men who ply women with alcohol to loosen them up for sex.
“So it sounds like your work is very…dangerous,” I say, reaching out to touch his hand. “You must be very brave.”
He shrugs and smiles, giving me a full view of his seriously stained teeth. “Anyone working in intelligence has to be a little bolder than average.”
I draw in a breath and widen my eyes. “And you’re bold, I can tell. I wish I were.”
“Well, you can be.”
“You think so?”
He nods and sips his drink. “Absolutely. Stick with me, kid.”
It’s fitting he refers to me that way. Tom is forty-nine fucking years old, and I could be his kid. I know his age because I pulled his birth certificate during my research. He told me he’s forty-one—ha. I better not inquire about the size of his dick.
“So you really handle top secret information?” I lean closer to Tom as I speak.
He looks from side to side. “Shh. I’m not really supposed to talk about it. But yeah, I encrypt intelligence.”
“Wow.” I put my hand on his thigh, but I quickly drop it away. “I’m sorry. I just got a little…excited.”
“Don’t apologize.” His gaze locks on to my breasts. “You can touch me anywhere you want.”
I give him a shy smile. “I’ll take you up on that offer when we’re alone at your office. I mean…if it’s safe there. Will there be cameras?”
He shakes his head. “No. Surveillance isn’t allowed in my department.”
Sweet. I won’t have to work around a camera recording my movements once we’re in his office.
“Good,” I say, putting my palm back on his thigh.
He licks his lips. “As soon as you finish that drink, we can go.”
I pick up the glass tumbler on the bar and tip it back, taking several long swallows. I ate right before meeting Tom here to help me hold my alcohol better. I didn’t finish either of the two drinks Tom ordered me, so I’m still in control.
“I’m ready when you are,” I say, setting the glass on the bar.
He leads me to his sedan in the bar’s parking lot, and my heart pounds nervously as he drives to his office. To calm myself, I focus on flirting with him.
I can do this. As long as Tom thinks I’m interested in having sex with him, his guard will stay down. I’m trained for this. I’m a professional.
Nothing I tell myself takes away all the nervous energy. As Tom scans his ID card through several doors, all of which click locked again when we walk through them, I’m aware that this operation is actually more dangerous than my work at the Loft.
All I have to do at the club is play the part of a wannabe badass. Here, I’m stealing from another intelligence agency—one with many layers of security.
We have to pass through a checkpoint with two guards. They both give me a look, but they turn dismissive when they see I’m with Tom. After that, we take an elevator up to the building’s sixth floor, and Tom scans his ID to open the door to his office.
It’s small, with used Styrofoam cups and candy wrappers littering the desk. There are no photos or personal touches because Tom’s work is his life.
“Alone at last,” he says, grabbing my ass and leaning toward me, his open mouth reminding me of a fish.
A fish with really bad breath.
“So this is where you do your work?” I spin to look at the computer. “It’s incredible, Tom.”
“Yeah, I know. And you know what else is incredible?”
“Hmm?”
He takes my hand and puts it on his crotch, groaning. It’s all I can do not to pull away.
“Oh, it’s so hard,” I say breathlessly.
“Because of you, Sally. You wanted to touch me back at the bar, and here’s your chance.”
“I can’t wait. But first…didn’t you mention some champagne?”
“Oh, right.”
Tom walks over to his desk and opens a drawer. He takes out a bottle of cheap champagne and looks around for cups.
“I’ll just go grab some cups from the break room,” he says,
walking toward the door.
He’s in a hurry. As soon as he’s out the door, I slip off my shoe, a chunky dark heel, and slide open the small compartment in the hollow bottom of the heel. I take out the white pill, close the compartment, and set the pill in my palm, making a relaxed fist to hold it in place.
I’ve just gotten my shoe back on when Tom returns.
“You look nervous,” he says, furrowing his brow at me.
“Just…excited.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Good.” He sets two Styrofoam cups on the desk and pops the top off the bottle of champagne.
“I was planning to drink this when we complete the upgrades on our servers, but this is much better,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Much better,” I agree.
As soon as the drinks are poured, I reach for mine, then gasp with excitement.
“Does that diploma say Georgetown?”
Tom looks at the wall, and I drop the pill into his cup in the moment he’s distracted.
“Yep.” He clears his throat nervously. “I, uh…went to college young. You know, because I’m considered a genius.”
“That’s very sexy.”
I pick up my cup and pretend to take a sip of the bubbling drink.
“Oh, wait,” I say suddenly. “Let’s toast first.” I hold my cup in the air. “To new adventures.”
“Cheers to that,” Tom says, putting the cup to his lips.
God, I hope he’s taking a big drink. The drug expert at the Greenlight office told me it won’t take much of whatever that drug is to do the trick, but that’s only if he actually ingests it.
“Mmm, so good,” I say. “Don’t you like it?”
He tilts the cup up for another sip. “Uh-huh.”
“There’s something so hot about the taste of alcohol on a man’s mouth.”
At that, he tips back a big swallow. Then he sets down the cup and steps closer to me.
“Come have a taste, Sally.”
“Oh, I will.” I run a fingertip down his chest. “But first, can I see you at work?”
He crinkles his forehead in confusion. “That’s where we are.”
“I mean…at your computer. You know, doing something technical and dangerous.”
“I’m not working on anything like that right now.”
“Oh.” I slump my shoulders and look disappointed. “It’s okay. I just know that would have made me really wet.”
“Wet?” Tom’s eyes bulge. “I mean, I can find something. I’ll just…find something on here.”
He sits down and signs on, submitting to another retinal scan. I breathe a mental sigh of relief.
“That champagne must be really strong,” he murmurs. “Are you feeling dizzy?”
“I thought that was just from being so close to you.”
I hike up my skirt and slide onto his lap, straddling him. I have to work fast now.
“Oh, Tom. I want you so bad.”
He groans and nods. “Me too, Sally.”
I unbutton my cardigan and pull down my cami, letting my breasts pop out the top of it.
“Oh, yeah,” Tom says softly.
I put my boobs in his face and arch my back. He squeezes my ass and breathes heavily on my skin.
“That champagne,” he mutters. “Everything’s spinning.”
“Will you fuck me, Tom? Right here over this desk where you do such sexy, important work? Will you pull up my skirt and fuck me from behind right now?”
“Oh, yeah. I w—”
I slide back and off his lap, hoping I’m reading his signs right. He’s clearly fighting dizziness as he tries to watch me pull my skirt up past my hips and bend over his desk.
“Just like this, Tom,” I say, my heart racing.
“Sally, I nee…I need…” He stands up from the chair and reaches for the desk, but his hand slides away from it and he goes down like a sack of bricks.
I exhale with relief and pull my skirt back down, then put my tits back inside my cami. I really didn’t want to have to go any further than that with Tom.
Moving quickly, I take off my other shoe, slide open the compartment and pull out the jump drive the tech department at Greenlight gave me. I’m not great with technology, but all I have to do is follow their instructions. I insert the drive on Tom’s computer and type in a few commands.
It takes a few minutes, and I glance between Tom’s limp body on the floor and the computer screen, willing the program to run faster. Finally, it finishes and I return the jump drive to the compartment in my heel and slide it closed.
Nervous adrenaline is still coursing through me as I get to my knees on the floor beside Tom. I unfasten his belt and pants and tug them down past his hips. This will be the hardest part. I’m praying my first operation isn’t also my last as I pat his cheeks and call out his name.
It takes for-fucking-ever. After at least twenty minutes of cheek pats, he stirs slightly.
“Tom?” I say, faking concern. “Are you okay? Talk to me, Tom.”
It takes another minute for him to open his eyes, and when he does, he’s staring at me in shock.
“What just happened?” He takes a handful of my cardigan, and I give him a shocked look.
“Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay! Should I call 911?”
He pushes himself up to a sitting position with his hands. “Why am I on the floor?” He looks down at his limp dick and frantically pulls up his polka dot boxer shorts.
“We were having sex, and you just…passed out.” I force emotion into my tone. “I thought you were having a heart attack! I was so worried. I almost called 911, but I didn’t know if I should since we were drinking champagne in here.”
“The champagne.”
Tom gets to his feet, fastens his pants, and picks up the bottle. He sniffs the top of it and then shoots me a skeptical look.
“What did you do?”
I widen my eyes. “What do you mean? It was your champagne.”
“Yeah, but…” He rubs his temple and looks at his computer screen. “Shit. Were you on my computer? What did you do?”
“I was down on the ground with you!” I dig deep and whip up some tears. “I thought you were dying.”
“This is bad.” He shakes his head. “I could lose my job for this.”
“For being sick? Tom, I’m worried about you. I think we need to go to a hospital.”
“No.” He rubs his temple again. “You can’t tell anyone about any of this, okay?”
“I’d never. I’m just worried about you.”
“We need to go.”
“To the hospital?”
He shakes his head and signs off the computer. “No, just…we need to leave here.”
We make it to the door, but he stops and turns to face me before opening it.
“Sally, I need to search you.”
“Search me?”
He nods. “I don’t even know who you are. I have to make sure you aren’t taking anything from my office.”
I give him an indignant glare. “I was on the floor with you the whole time.”
“Just hold still.”
He feels me up from head to toe, spending more time squeezing my breasts than necessary. He takes the tiny purse I brought and dumps in on the desk, examining the tube of lipstick and cell phone inside. He even goes so far as to remove the phone’s battery and search for hidden compartments.
“Well?” I demand.
“I’m sorry. You just have to understand—”
Fake tears well in my eyes as I shove my items back into the purse. “You don’t trust me. It’s fine. I just want to go, Tom.”
With a heavy sigh, he walks me back past security and out the front door. When we’re on the sidewalk, he grabs my wrist and tries to turn me to face him.
“Sally, can I—”
“No.”
I stomp down the sidewalk, euphoric with the completion of my first operation. Tom doesn’t follow.
As soo
n as I’m out of his sight, I dump the purse into a trash can. I left my actual purse in a locker at a nearby bus station, and I head that way.
I did it. I fucking ran my first op alone, and I killed it. All I can think of for the rest of the night is how proud my uncle Jeff would be of me right now.
6
Phoenix
“I’m here!” Coco’s voice echoes through the penthouse, waking me from a perfect dream. “It’s Monday, Nix. You know what that means?”
I roll over, push myself up, and swing my legs over the bed. I’d hoped that over the weekend she’d realize that becoming more involved with my business was too dangerous and drop it. But as with most things with Coco, she’s drawn to living on the edge and outside the fringe. I tried to give her everything a normal kid her age had, and I did, pushing her toward college, but she wanted nothing to do with it.
This isn’t the life I wanted for her. This isn’t the way I thought shit would go down when I plucked her from the streets and gave her a roof over her head. I never thought I’d have anyone else involved in my business—especially Coco.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” I scrub my hands down my face to clear my head. When I finally climb to my feet, I catch a glimpse of the clock and it’s only noon. Last night I stayed up until five a.m. completing a task for a buddy who had called in a last-minute favor.
After washing my face and pulling on a pair of sweat pants, I finally make my way to the kitchen. Coco is sitting at the island, her feet swinging back and forth as she waits on a stool. “Took you long enough,” she says as I walk in. “Coffee’s done.” She smiles cheerfully.
“Thanks.” I’m trying not to be grumpy, but I’m still tired and I know she’s going to start right in on me about starting to “work” for me today. I imagine this is a tiny sliver of what it’s like to be a parent—being half asleep when you’re ambushed with chatter. I pour a cup of coffee and feel her eyes on me. “Have a good weekend?”
“It was amazing. I went to…”
