Dylan—lucky bastard—had the week off. So he was in the hotel room he’d reserved for the con, and was probably sleeping his day away. He and Josh had been roommates the beginning of law school. They’d both graduated since, but paying student loans on a junior lawyer salary meant splitting the rent still made sense.
As the queue crawled forward another person, Josh checked the time on his phone. The law firm where he and Dylan worked was a few floors up in this building, and Josh had plenty of time before he had to be up there, but he wanted to get to his desk before anyone else came in. He had research to do.
It didn’t matter that Josh’s last name was on the firm marquee—his grandfather founded the group, and his mother was one of the current senior partners—he wasn’t afforded any leeway.
Unlike the asshole partner who caused so much work for them last night, and would slide under the radar because he was fucking Josh’s mother.
“Next,” the girl at the register called.
He stepped forward with a smile. “Hey, Luci. Mocha Red Eye. As big as it gets.”
“TGIF?” She marked his drink order on a cup, then handed it to the barista.
“So very much. But Comic Con this weekend.”
She laughed. “Do you do the whole dress-up thing?”
“No. I like to let the world revel in my natural awesomeness.”
“That’s very noble of you. Catch you Monday?”
“Of course.” He stepped aside, so the next person could order.
He’d miss the rituals here. The people. The coffee. But he couldn’t wait to get out of this place. Law might be the family tradition, and he liked practicing, but this firm wasn’t for him. He did his job because it was his job. His other plans were why he’d gotten to the office early, though.
“Extra-large Mocha Red Eye,” the barista called. He was a new guy Josh hadn’t met yet.
Josh would know his name in a week or so. He grabbed his drink and headed for the elevator. A few minutes later, he settled in at his desk. Half the lights in the place were out, and no one else had arrived yet.
It was time for research. The firm represented a large game distributor, who specialized in tabletop and roleplaying games. The distributor wanted to acquire rights from the local company that had created Changelings and Caverns. Josh had maneuvered his way into working with the client. His goal was to meet some people, make some connections, and move into a new role, in a very different industry.
Part of that good impression would be learning everything he could about them, in order to represent them properly.
He used to make up games like C&C with his ex-girlfriend, and he’d loved it. She was the creative one; he was more about helping her grow her ideas. He wanted to do more of that. Help someone with a talent like hers expand their products and reach more customers.
He tumbled down the research rabbit hole, not emerging until the chatter grew around him. The office was bright now. Most desks occupied. Phones ringing. People shouting information at each other.
The rest of his reading would wait until later. He dove into work, pulling files, doing legal research, typing up documents to file with the courts—whatever anyone needed.
His phone rang, and Laurie Hunter flashed on the display. His mother. “Hello, Ms. Hunter,” he answered. He never called her Mother at the office. It was almost TV-show cliché.
“I need to shift your priorities, Josh.” Her tone was cool and professional. “We’re working on new boilerplate language for Automan Life, and I want you to shadow the lead attorney. To learn, and also to double-check their work.”
“What am I handing off in return?” The moment he asked, he knew the answer.
“The Polar Bear negotiation. Dylan will step into that spot instead. You can fill him in, but I need you on Automan. I trust you to do this.”
Josh liked her confidence in him but didn’t care for the news. “I can do both.”
“No. I’m sorry. I need you focused on Automan. I know you were looking forward to working on the other, but you’re going to be stretched thin as it is. In fact, I need you to take Saturday to come up to speed. Your meeting with them is Monday.”
Well, fuck.
"But I was going into Tosche Station, to pick up some power converters!"
"You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done."
The lines from Star Wars echoed in his head, but he resisted the urge to launch into them to make a point. So much for catching Comic Con with Dylan.
He sent his roommate a text. Working this weekend. If you hook up, don’t be stingy with the details.
The new contract information was already waiting for Josh in his email. He clicked into it and dove in.
SYDNEY WAS BRACED FOR a long day of solo-play. Hanging with Dylan yesterday was fun, but she didn’t expect him to be back.
That was all right. His flirting was enough for her to feed her fantasies last night and expand it into a vivid scene. One where they did end up in the shower, slipping and sliding against each other, water cascading around them as he knelt at her feet and licked her to orgasm, then bent her over—
A throb pulsed between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs together. Thoughts like that needed to wait until she wasn’t about to be set upon by crowds of people.
“Where do you want me boss?” Dylan asked.
She started when she realized he was behind her, and not in her head still. “Hey.” Great. Now she’d forgotten how to speak again.
“You look surprised to see me.”
Sydney shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. Most people wouldn’t come back, and I don’t know you well enough to bank on anything else.”
“Let’s change that.” He stepped into her booth. “First, tell me what I need to do.”
She could do that. She gave him a rundown of pricing. She’d handle the money. “No offense,” she said.
“None taken. I understand earning trust, and this is someone’s livelihood.”
People were starting to wander the aisles. Not a lot—the doors opened an hour early for gold-pass members—but enough that Sydney felt like she should focus on them instead of the hottie standing next to her, arm brushing hers every couple of minutes.
A group of three walked by, their gaze drifting to the table.
“Do you like games?” Sydney called.
They broke eye contact and hurried away quickly.
There would be a bit of that this weekend, but it was disheartening to start Day One off that way.
A pack of five girls in their late teens wandered past. “You ladies like to have fun?” Dylan called.
They exchanged looks and giggles. “Yes,” one said.
“We’ve got an assortment.” He nodded to the shelves behind him.
“No thanks,” another replied. They walked away, glancing back until they rounded the corner.
And then someone said yes. Before they finished their transaction, another person was waiting to buy a game.
It didn’t take long before Sydney and Dylan had their hands full, bagging purchases, making change, and answering questions.
When there was a lull in the crowds, as new panels started, Sydney sank into her seat. She was grinning, despite her aching feet.
“This is insane.” Dylan shifted his weight. “Do you do this a lot?”
“Every weekend there’s a big enough convention.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’d love that or hate it, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try.”
“What’s your favorite flavor? Fandom, I mean?”
He furrowed his brow. “I have to pick? All of the above.” He gestured to the room.
That was so vague. Sydney wanted to keep chatting, but someone else was looking at her C&C. “Do you like games?” she asked.
The woman, who was dressed in an intricate Poison Ivy costume that left little to the imagination, skipped forward. “Love them. You?” Her voice was low and sultry, as she spoke i
n-character.
“Yeah. Absolutely.” Sydney grinned. “What’s your favorite kind?”
Ivy licked her lips. “Anything with vines or tentacles.” Wow. She did the whole roleplaying thing beautifully.
“Sounds kinky.” Dylan chimed in.
“It is, handsome. The kinkier the better. You two like to party?”
Not really. The answer died on Sydney’s lips when Dylan said, “Depends on the party.”
Ivy handed him a flier. “Upstairs, after everything shuts down tonight. They’ll ID you, and there’s a cover charge.”
“We’ll see if we can make it.” Dylan took the leaflet.
Ivy strolled away, hips swaying.
Sydney glanced over Dylan’s shoulder. The invitation was photocopied black text on green paper. It looked like a generic invitation, covered with cosplay clip art, including a maid costume, handcuffs, and a whip.
Dylan glanced at her. “Could be fun. Want to be my date?”
There was no way she was turning that down. “Sure.”
Something brushed her leg, and she swatted at it without thinking. A second brush, this one harder, pressed in on her leg, and she looked down to see her cashbox gone.
A short, thin guy crawled out from the other side of the table and ran into the crowds.
“Fuck,” she shouted. “That kid just stole my cash box.”
CHAPTER THREE
“I’ll be back,” Dylan yelled over his shoulder. He was already chasing the cash box thief.
The aisles were crowded, making it difficult to move. The kid was at least a foot shorter than Dylan and wove through people’s legs, knocking several off balance.
The thief was pulling ahead, and frustration spilled through Dylan, mingling with adrenaline. He shouted “Move,” and earned a couple of dirty looks and several laughs for the command.
And then he spotted an opening between booths, thanks to a group of people in costumes, getting their pictures taken. He darted between tables, behind the curtains that divided one aisle from the next.
Debris spilled into his path, but he hopped over it and emerged on the other side, ahead of the kid.
He grabbed the thief by the arm. “Give back the box.’
“Get your hands off me, you freaking pedo-bear,” the kid screamed.
Sure. Now people turned to look.
Dylan wasn’t taking this bullshit. “Give me back the cash, you little thief.”
“Is there something wrong?” A volunteer approached.
Dylan recognized one of the security guys, not only from the shirt that said Security on the back, but they met during orientation yesterday.
“Jesse, hey.” Dylan tightened his grip when the thief struggled and tried to jerk away. “He stole the cash box from one of the vendor booths.”
“I found it on the floor.” The kid hugged his prize tighter. He couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen.
Jesse extracted the box from him and handed it to Dylan. “You’ll make sure it gets back safe?” Jesse asked.
Dylan nodded.
Jesse escorted the kid toward the exit.
With the show over, everyone turned back to what they’d been doing. Dylan’s pulse still raced through his veins, and in a few minutes, the adrenaline would start to sit heavy in his gut.
He made his way back to Sydney’s booth. He would have chased the thief anyway, but her smile when she saw him was the perfect reward.
Dylan handed her the retrieved box. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t have time to open it.”
“Thank you, thank you.” She turned it over in her hands. “Nope. Lock is still intact. Did I say thank you? I can’t believe you did this for me.”
He gave a deep bow and tipped an invisible hat. “’Twas my pleasure, m’lady.”
“Hey, man. That was awesome, what you just did,” said a male voice.
Dylan turned to see a couple of guys waiting to shake his hand. He obliged. “Thanks. I hate it when anyone thinks they can get away with that shit.”
“Totally.” The second guy picked up one of the C&C boxes. “I’ve heard about this. Is it any good?”
“It’s the best.” Dylan had spent a little time last night researching, and it looked like a lot of fun.
“I’ll take it.” The guy handed over money.
For the next bit, people who heard what Dylan had done trickled in. The constant traffic drew additional attention, and they sold several copies of the game.
As the crowds thinned again, Dylan finally had a chance to breathe. He looked at Sydney, who was flushed but smiling. “I don’t know how you do this all the time,” he said.
“I love it. But it’s also not usually this busy. You’re my lucky charm. Either that, or I’ve used up all my good karma for the next year by meeting you.”
“Something tells me you have more in reserve.” He had a hard time imagining there were many red marks in her ledger.
“You shameless flatterer.” Her shyness looked exaggerated.
He liked seeing her relaxed—the way she moved, her smiles, those gorgeous, full curves. “I’m being sincere.”
“Excuse me. When you two are done hanging off each other?” an irritated woman interrupted.
Sydney clenched her jaw.
“I’ve got this,” Dylan said softly enough only she would hear. He faced the woman. “May I help you?”
“Are you the asshole who tackled and assaulted my boy earlier?”
Great. He was dealing with the brat’s mother, apparently. His defensiveness cranked several notches. “Since I didn’t tackle or assault anyone, no. Was it your kid who stole my boss’s cash box?” He wanted to toss back the insults, but if he was being approached this way, he wasn’t giving her any legal footing.
“He found a box on the floor and picked it up. He didn’t know what was in it. Next thing he knew, some maniac was chasing him and threatening him.”
“Witnesses say differently.” Irritation flipped a play it cool switch in Dylan’s head. He would freeze this woman out one way or another.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
Dylan shook his head. “No. I’m calling your son a liar.”
“Absolutely ridiculous. Slanderous, in fact. I’m going to sue you until you can’t spin without running into a wage garnishment.”
She’d gone there. Dylan hid his smugness. “That doesn’t even make sense. But you do that.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and plucked a business card out. “You can reach out to my employer directly. They’ll represent me.”
She paled when she looked at the card. “You don’t work there.”
“Then you humiliate me by sending any legal papers there. Give it a try and see. I’ll be waiting to be served at that address.”
“Fine.” She jammed the card in her purse and stalked away.
Who needed coffee, when there was this much excitement in the day? Dylan’s heart hammered against his ribs at the confrontation. Or rather, the lack of a resolution.
He wanted to demand she come back so he could finish the conversation. Logic her into a corner she couldn't outrage herself out of.
She’d been bluffing with the lawsuit comment, so he’d never see her again. That was the most disappointing thing of all. That kid would keep pulling the same bullshit until his mother wised up or someone else stepped in.
SYDNEY WAS GRATEFUL Dylan dealt with the irate woman. Confrontation wasn’t her forte.
When Dylan handed over a business card, Sydney’s gut twisted in on itself a second time. The Hunter & Associates logo was one she’d never forget. Her ex’s mother had drilled that family legacy into Sydney’s head repeatedly.
“You work for Hunter & Associates?” She made sure to keep her voice steady. This wasn’t worth overreacting to.
He nodded. “Just moved from paralegal to attorney.”
“Congratulations. Do you like your job?”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty decent. They gave me the weekend off, to hang
out here, and I can’t complain about that.”
“I guess not.” She smiled. Sydney wouldn’t say anything negative about the firm. She had her issues with Ms. Hunter, but if Dylan was happy there, she wouldn’t drag him down with her bias.
She needed to shake off some of this excess energy. “I’m going to take a break. Are you okay to watch the booth for a few minutes?”
“You trust me here with all of this?” He gestured. “Alone?”
Maybe that was naive of her, but she did. “You had a chance to rip me off and didn’t. Plus, I know where you work,” she teased.
“Take a break. I’ll hold down the fort, boss.”
Walking away was its own kind of stress. She left assistants with the booth at every show, but she didn’t know this guy, and it was too easy to like him.
As she wove through con-goers, her thoughts cleared and calm returned. She didn’t want to leave Dylan alone for long, but she paused at a few booths, to appreciate the unique art and designs.
The brief stroll was enough to refresh her. She paused at a food stall on her way back. When the woman asked her what she wanted to drink, she stalled on an answer. What did Dylan like, besides coffee? She got two Mt. Dews and hoped for the best.
As Sydney approached her booth, her footsteps slowed. Dylan was talking to a woman in yellow vinyl hot pants and a matching sleeveless top with a red shirt thrown over it. The character was Faye from Cowboy Bebop, and the woman made the outfit look better than Poison Ivy had earlier.
Faye laughed at something and rested a hand on Dylan’s arm. He was grinning, eyes bright and posture casual. They stood close, and whatever they were talking about, the conversation flowed easily.
Sydney swallowed the rush of jealousy. What did she expect from the bold, flirty, gorgeous guy who was too good to be true?
She pasted on a smile, hoped it didn’t look too fake, and joined them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dylan’s smile when he saw Sydney warmed her.
Roll Against Betrayal Page 2
