Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  Dad had always been generous, making donations to any charity I recommended, but this concept was my baby, and I couldn’t wait to have the resources at my disposal to bring it to light.

  But I knew with the power would come sacrifice, and not just at events like tonight. I couldn’t very well live a wild life while heading the world’s most wholesome family corporation. In fact, the contract I’d sign in three months had a morality clause that said exactly that. In order to be the face of the company and my own dream organization, I had to put every dirty, scandalous whim behind me. For good.

  Not that I ever did anything scandalous, anyway.

  One more quick glance at Rory and my breath caught in my throat. Jeannine had been right, one night with him would totally be worth the risk.

  Forcing myself out of fantasy-land, I checked to make sure the flash drive was in my clutch as we pulled up to the entrance. Matt Donaldson, the newest Oscar contender in Hollywood, was throwing this little shindig on behalf of Water.org, and maybe if I could get these plans into his hands, I’d have a chance at teaming up for state-of-the-art water filtration systems for the shelters.

  “Thank you all for coming,” I said, glancing at Bailey and Gage but determined not to look at Rory one more time. If I did, I might lose the concentration I so desperately needed right now. “The signed gear will bring in a ton for the charity. I owe you all, big time.”

  Gage smiled and reached out to squeeze Bailey’s hand. “Anything for you, Paige,” he said and a fissured cracked in my chest. I was overjoyed for Bailey—she’d gotten her dream man, and with a baby on the way, her life was pretty perfect—but I couldn’t help but feel as if those things would never be in the cards for me. Not with the life I was expected to lead as President. And while it had been my dream take over, it was more clear than ever what I would be giving up to achieve it.

  I smiled at Gage who lovingly smoothed his hand over Bailey’s tummy. I’d gotten ready over at their house so I wouldn’t have to walk the red carpet alone, but with Rory only a foot away, and the lovebirds even closer to me, I was starting to wonder if I should’ve sprung for separate cars. The heat in this one was enough to melt the cool, calm demeanor an event like this demanded.

  A final deep breath and my hand was on the door.

  Here we go. Now don’t fall on your face.

  I tossed my dark red hair to give it an extra boost and stepped out of the limo, my black heels surprisingly stable on the red carpet as I tucked my small clutch under my arm, hoping I looked more confident than I felt. I’d gone an inch higher in the heel department thanks to Jeanine’s advice, but so far hadn’t fallen on my face, so I was declaring victory.

  Camera’s flashed in a succession of bursts, and the paparazzi shouted from behind two thick, golden velvet ropes that sectioned off the red carpet leading into the entrance. Damn, Matt Donaldson knew how to play to his audience.

  The technique was smart, business-wise. Pump up the A-listers the second they walk into the hotel, stroke their egos, and then watch as their deep pockets loosen. Clever and all for an excellent cause.

  Add to it that he’d invited the entire starting line of the Seattle Sharks, our resident NHL team, and it was enough to spin the head of any donor—male or female. Their picture was blown up about twenty feet high to my right, and it more than drew my eye. Lord have mercy, those men were dripping sex, confidence, and built like Greek gods. Gage, Warren, and Rory had been featured in Sports Illustrated as the sexiest slice of ice this side of…anywhere, and yeah, they were. Especially Rory.

  My entire body clenched just looking at his picture, but knowing he was right behind me reminded me just how long it had been since it had clenched anything besides my vibrator. The fact that he’d come on my behalf—or rather Bailey’s—made my thighs heat in a delicious way that made me want to turn around, grab his hand, and drag him to one of the penthouses upstairs.

  Get a grip on yourself!

  “Ms. Turner!” I paused half-way to the entrance, plastered on my good-girl smile, and found the pap who’d called for me. “How long has CranBaby been a supporter of Donaldson’s charity?” The short man had his camera poised in the perfect position to record every flaw I had.

  I glanced at the venue, grinning as I caught sight of Jeanine waiting for us at the entrance. “We’ve recently heard about the cause and understand the extreme need behind it. I’m here to show my support and hopefully learn more to help spread awareness and see what CranBaby can offer.”

  My fingers played with the clasp on my clutch nervously, but I halted the movement as soon as I was conscious of it.

  I’d been in the limelight since before I could remember, but it didn’t mean I liked it. It came with the family name and the old-as-time corporation we ran. I’d learned early on that someone is always watching. And while the whole world was entertained by the mistakes of others, our stock prices were not.

  “There’s a rumor that you’re being groomed to take over your family’s corporation, Ms. Turner.”

  He’s baiting you.

  I kept my smile firmly in place. “Was that a question?”

  A general laugh went through the pap line.

  Good job. I wasn’t one to make a mistake. I’d been a good girl all my life. Teacher’s pet, straight-A student, and the perfect daughter who would rightly take over the family company in a mere three months. The future I’d always dreamed of would be mine—and the expected public appearance that went with it.

  “Given that you are such a family-driven business, have you given any thought to how you’ll find time to start one of your own once you do take the throne, so to speak?”

  I swallowed, and tilted my head at the older reporter, doing my best to hide the fact that he’d just tap danced across my rawest nerve. Brian Watercomb finished his questions to my right and moved toward the entrance. “You know, I think Brian Watercomb and I are about the same age, and he’s poised to take over his father’s shipping empire any day now. Did you ask him the same question? Or did he get a pass because he’s a man?”

  The reporter stepped back, his neck flushing the same color as the carpet.

  Good. Asshole. I flashed a playful smile to let them know my feelings weren’t hurt. “Now, anyone else have a girl-only question they’d like to ask?”

  “Who are you wearing?” another pap asked.

  “That’s one I don’t mind.” I ran my hands over my fitted number, loving the way the ruched fabric hugged my curves. “Prada.” I winked.

  “Red is definitely your color,” Rory whispered in my ear, his breath shooting a thousand chills across my skin. He was close enough to touch me, but his hand remained casually in his pockets.

  “Rory!” Another pap shouted, and I jolted out of my trance that his nearness had put me in. “When did you take an interest in Donaldson’s charity?”

  Rory shaped his lips into that picture perfect smirk he’d mastered and motioned his head to me for the briefest of moments. “Anything Ms. Turner supports is worth investing in.”

  I swallowed hard, another flush raking my skin. He could’ve given Gage all the credit or even Bailey, but he’d put the focus right back on me.

  “You two are friends?” The reporter pushed.

  I grinned, taking the reigns. “I’m a die-hard Sharks fan.” A secession of whoops and claps rang through the crowd, and I flashed Rory a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m needed inside.” I waved quickly, leaving Rory and Gage to answer more questions about their upcoming game. Bailey followed me as we walked the rest of the carpet until we’d made it inside.

  “You did great!” Jeanine said, looping her arm through mine and squeezing me close to her model-perfect body.

  “Dad might not be too happy with how I answered that family question.”

  “You’re about to be one of the youngest female CEOs of a multi-billion dollar corporation. I think he knows you need to stand up to the bullshit. Now, what do you think?” she asked, her
hands gesturing to the scene before us.

  The banquet room was filled with circular tables draped in gorgeous cream-linens, waiters in black ties serving top-shelf liquor, and of course, half of Hollywood’s elite. The room dripped with classic calla lilies and crystals that looked like water droplets in tasteful, but opulent arrangements.

  “The room is lovely, but what about the food?” I asked, gently nudging my best friend.

  “Yes, I’m starved,” Bailey said, lightly touching her tummy.

  “Didn’t you eat before we left?” I teased.

  “Ha ha.” She glanced down where her hand still touched her stomach. “I swear I’m in a constant state of hunger now. It has to be a boy.”

  Jeannine and I took a moment to smile at her, pure love and maybe just a tad bit of jealousy radiating from us over her insane happiness.

  “What?” She asked when she noted the looks on our faces.

  Jeannine broke first. “There is plenty for you, Bailey, and that little Shark you’re growing. Plus, the food is mine and therefore exquisite.”

  “Do you need to check on anything?” I asked.

  She shook her head and smiled at one of the actors as she led me to our table. “Nope. I had Rafael come in tonight to run service. My menu. My recipes. My food. My night off.”

  “I know you better than that.”

  “Well, if they fuck it up, then all bets are off. I didn’t bust my ass for that third star to let them ruin it. But for now, I’m relaxing.”

  I took in her skin tight blue dress and matching heels. “Relax, indeed.”

  Before we reached the table, she turned me, both of her manicured hands on my shoulders. “I’m loving the red.” She eyed my dress. “Am I finally starting to rub off on you?” She asked, a sly grin on her face.

  “Nope, that’d be Rory,” Bailey answered before I could, resulting in a jaw drop from Jeannine.

  “Did you sleep with him? Is number seven the first to be crossed off the list?” Jeannine practically bounced in her heels.

  “Could you keep your voice down?” I asked, glancing around to make sure Matt Donaldson wasn’t within hearing distance. “Of course I didn’t. He happened to be at Bailey’s the same time I was.”

  “And how does that get you into this smoking hot dress your father will surely pitch a fit over?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Bailey said. “Spill.”

  I sighed. “He pointed to it, and I chose it. No big deal.” My girls laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in. “Why is that so funny?”

  “Because he’s on your dirty girl bucket list!” Jeannine squealed. “He wanted to see you in this number.” She pointed at the Prada. “He’ll be totally down to help you with the list. Just ask him. Plus, he’s a fantastic choice for a one night stand.”

  “Stop,” I hissed, eyeing Bailey for help.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I agree with her.”

  “Traitor!” I gaped at her. “You’re the most sensible one of us all! You’re supposed to have my back when Jeannine takes these wild ideas of hers too seriously.”

  “It’s just sex,” Jeannine said. “Chill out. Besides, I’m fully in favor of you letting your hair loose before your dad stuffs it behind a habit.”

  “Great, now you’re making nun jokes, too,” I mumbled, wishing I’d never told her that I felt like I was about to become the next member of Sister Act.

  Bailey chuckled, glancing over her shoulder where Gage, Rory, and Warren talked to half of the other Sharks across the room. The amount of good looking men in tuxes was enough to get every single female within breathing distance pregnant. “Rory is one of those men that is down for absolutely anything,” she said. “And while that is fun, it also gets him into trouble. I think it might benefit him to sleep with someone like you.”

  The worried look Rory wore earlier flashed behind my eyes. “What do you mean trouble?”

  Bailey lowered her voice as if he might overhear us from fifty feet away. “Gage actually picked him up from jail earlier. That’s why we were almost late.”

  I gasped, covering my hand with my mouth as my eyes darted to him. His back was to me, but I knew his short cut blond hair and muscles anywhere.

  “What’d he do?” Jeannine asked.

  “Another bar fight. The man has a temper,” Bailey answered.

  “That’s not a shocker. He’s ferocious on the ice,” I said.

  Jeannine nudged me. “Ohmygod you are so strung up on him. How are you not pursuing this right now?”

  “I’m here for business.”

  “You’re always everywhere for business, Paige,” she said and sighed. “And soon that is all your life will be. If you don’t live a little now, you might not ever get the chance.” She spotted a server over my shoulder and hurried toward him. “That’s not how I wanted the plates arranged!” She said as she stormed toward the back of the room where I assumed the kitchen was.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Bailey said, squeezing my wrist.

  “I’m not.” That was a lie. Jeannine’s words were sitting cold and hollow in my chest, the fear of never getting a taste of anything exciting before I signed my life away chilling me to the bone.

  “Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Okay,” Jeannine said, popping up behind me. She motioned toward the table we stood next to. “I have a confession.”

  “You slept with Rafael,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. “I never screw my employees. Especially not the good ones.” Her forehead puckered and I started to get worried.

  “What did you do?” I raised a singular eyebrow, but let it go. Whatever Jeanine had planned, it would be harmless. She was the wild one out of our pairing, but she’d never do anything to embarrass—

  Fuck. My. Life.

  “You didn’t,” I hissed at her as I saw my name card on the table.

  Paige Turner. And directly to my left. Rory Jackson.

  “Why isn’t he sitting with the rest of the Sharks?” My tone came out too close to a whine, and I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Gage is sitting next to Bailey. I figured he’d want his friend Rory there too,” Jeannine said innocently.

  “Uh huh.” I slit my eyes at her.

  “Speaking of sitting,” Bailey said, hurrying around the table to her spot, releasing a deep sigh once she was parked.

  “Just call me Cupid,” Jeannine said with a smile as she took her seat to my right.

  “Just call you dead,” I snapped but sat down. I eyed the room for a waiter. “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”

  Someone tinkled ice in a glass to my left. “Scotch and soda, right?” Rory said, setting the drink in front of me but didn’t take his own seat.

  My lips parted, but no words came out. Speak woman! “Thank you,” I said once my breath had returned to my lungs. “How did you know what I liked to drink?” I took the glass and sipped. Tonight would call for multiple scotch and sodas.

  “I have seen you almost every weekend for the past few months, you know?” He tilted his head.

  He was often over at Gage’s when I was there visiting with Bailey, but that didn’t mean we were all together enough for him to notice details about me like what I liked to drink. Did it? I eyed his still empty chair. “Are you going to stand the whole night?” I asked, laughing slightly from the nerves bundling in my tummy. When he towered over me like that it made me think of all the ways in which I’d love to climb him.

  Rory licked his lips, reaching over me and taking a quick sip of my drink. “Later. Right now I have some sticks to sign.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “The sticks you were supposed to have signed last week?”

  He shrugged, pointing at the drink. “That’s my apology for being late.” He took a few steps away from the table, winking at me. “Don’t worry, Red. I won’t let you down.”

  I watched him walk away, admiring the way his tux pants fell around his
hips. Good lord my panties will melt off if he sits next to me all night.

  “Holy fucking hot,” Jeannine said, smacking my arm. “If that isn’t reason enough—”

  “Stop,” I cut her off and took another large drink. My cheeks were still on fire from his gesture.

  “Paige, come on. Just promise me that you’ll try. For once, stop thinking about what’s best for the company or your family, and think about yourself. You’re about to sign your freedom away, so just try to enjoy it first.” Her eyes were wide with her plea.

  I sighed, mostly because she was right. Maybe it was the scotch talking, but I finally shook my head, incredulous that she’d won. “Okay, if he actually comes back without an adoring puck bunny attached to his hip, I will…” I sucked in a deep breath. “Attempt to make number seven happen.”

  Sex. With Rory Jackson. A hot, hockey stick-wielding god of the ice. A gorgeous, famous, panty-melting notorious bad boy. Sure, it sounded great in theory, but in reality, I wasn’t sure I had what it took to even make the first move. At least he wasn’t a complete stranger, that had to count for something right?

  An hour and a half, two scotch and sodas, and one delivered flash drive later, Rory took his seat next to me. He spread his right hand out on the table, clenching his fingers into a fist before fanning them out again.

  I chuckled. “Signing them in groups over a week would’ve been easier on your hand.”

  “True but there is no challenge in that.” He grinned before ordering his drink.

  “Thank you, again,” I said, suddenly losing all the witty banter I had built up in my head with his body so close I could feel the heat from his skin.