by Mary Abshire
“Nervous?” he asked softly.
“Not really. I just hope we can accomplish something today.”
The way things were heading, they’d accomplish they couldn’t kill the demon in his office. It wasn’t a good achievement, but it was one nonetheless.
The door on Andrew’s side clicked before it opened. Michael Lazzari, demon and lawyer, stepped forward.
“Carrie,” he said with a smile that made Andrew’s blood boil.
Emily rose and headed toward him. “Thank you for seeing me.” She turned to face Andrew.
Taking her cue, he stood.
“This is my business partner, Spencer Reynolds,” she said.
Andrew extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Reynolds. Is there a relation?” Michael asked.
“None. He’s originally from the east coast and I spent half my life growing up in Saint Louis,” Emily said while Andrew shook Michael’s hand.
“And you two met in Florida?” Michael asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Warm climate and plenty of women in bikinis. Can’t go wrong,” Andrew said and Michael laughed.
“True,” Michael said. “Let’s go back to my office.”
Andrew stayed behind Emily, who followed Michael down a walkway with offices to the left and rows of cubicles on the right. The five-foot high walls offered some privacy, but didn’t block the chattering voices. Reaching the end of the path, they turned right and continued. Most of the office doors were shut. Midway, Michael spun to face them.
“Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing with his arm.
Emily disappeared inside the office and Andrew followed. Michael had a nice setup with a large, half-wall window. His wide wood desk sat in the center of the room with the window on the left side. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined up the walls behind his chair. A long black leather sofa backed up to the wall near the door. A framed oil painting hung on the wall above the couch. Emily sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Andrew took a seat in the one next to her. A round table took up space in the corner near the window behind them. As far as Andrew could see, there weren’t any cameras connected to the ceiling or any wall.
“I wasn’t aware you had a business partner,” Michael said as he shut the door.
“I was waiting to tell you,” Emily said.
Michael walked around his desk to his chair. “What we’ll be discussing won’t impact him much, so he doesn’t really need to be here.”
“I understand, but I wanted him to come with me,” she said. “Do you mind?”
“No, I don’t mind at all.” He took a manila folder from the side of his desk and placed it in front of him. Awards were displayed on a few bookshelves behind him, but there wasn’t a family photo in the room anywhere.
“Spencer and I have known each other for several years. We trust each other,” she said.
Michael didn’t respond to her comment. In fact, he kept his attention on the documents on his desk. “I glanced at your records and can help you out. But first, do you have the retainer fee we talked about?”
The man was straight to the point and wanted his money first. Greedy lawyers.
“Yes, I do.” Emily fished out the cashier’s check from her pocket. “I need a receipt please.”
The demon stared at her chest as she set the check in front of him. Andrew fought the urge to strangle him. If he knew he could get away with it, he wouldn’t hesitate.
“I’ll have the receptionist prepare one for you to pick up on your way out when you leave,” Michael said.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of money left to pay for legal expenses since I just moved here,” she said.
“We can work something out. Don’t worry about it right now,” Michael said.
Disgust began to rise within Andrew and he swallowed it. Based on the information Emily had shared with him, the type of payment methods he preferred were not the monetary kind. Damn demon.
Michael flattened his hand on the papers in the folder. “Your charges are pretty standard for a woman in your line of work. Was this the first time you were arrested?”
“Yes.”
He looked down. “I found several misdemeanor charges. One for solicitation, one for prostitution, resisting arrest, and then there is the failing to appear for court matter.”
“That sounds about right. I got nervous since I’d never been arrested before, so I ran,” she said.
He leaned back in his large chair. “I definitely can help you. I don’t know how much Jessica has told you, but I represent several women in your line of work. I know the law well and I have helped many women get back on their feet. My angle would be that you’re a first-time offender and you got scared. The judges tend to be more lenient with these types of charges. I think we can spare you from having to serve any time in jail, but you should know that minimum is thirty days to six months and penalties.”
“Wow. Six months for each count?” she asked.
“That would be the max. I don’t see that happening with your case.”
“What kind of penalties would she have to pay?” Andrew asked. As her business partner, financial matters were his concern.
“The range is typically one to three thousand dollars. Many first-time offenders have to perform community service instead of spending time in jail,” Michael said.
“I would be fine with that,” Emily said. “Can they send me back to Florida? I really don’t want to go back.”
“No, these are misdemeanor charges. I should be able to handle everything from here.” He straightened in his chair. “But it will cost more since I will have to deal with the Florida court system.”
“How much more?” Andrew asked and Emily looked at him. Though she hadn’t said anything, he suspected she wanted him to keep silent.
She returned her attention to Michael. “My business partner is concerned about our flow of money, obviously.”
“Naturally. I’m open to discussing the matter with you, but perhaps your partner should wait outside for us,” Michael said.
Unease stirred within Andrew. He disliked the idea of leaving Emily alone with the demon. Too many things could go wrong. He trusted Emily and had agreed to let her be in charge, but it sickened to think what could happen after he would walk out the door.
“Would you mind?” she asked Andrew.
Andrew bounced his gaze from the demon to Emily. “Can you handle everything?”
“Yeah, it’s good. If I’m not out in ten minutes, you have my permission to perform bodily harm,” she said with a smile.
Andrew couldn’t be sure if she meant it or not, but she’d said it and he’d honor her wishes. He rose from his seat.
Michael pressed a button his phone. “Claire, prepare a receipt for Carrie Reynolds. Retainer paid in full. Her male associate is heading your way.”
“Yes, sir,” the female on the other end of the line said.
Michael touched another button on his phone, ending the call. “It was nice to meet you, Spencer.”
Andrew stopped at the door. He withdrew his cell from his pocket. After checking the time, he turned to face the demon. “Ten minutes starting now.” He held the phone up before he walked out the door.
Andrew strode down the hall, heading back the way they’d come into the office. He doubted the demon would do anything to Emily. Try, maybe. But she was strong and could defend herself. He had faith in her. If by some chance the demon did hurt Emily, Andrew would return to kill him and he wouldn’t care how many security cameras were recording.
Chapter Nineteen
Emily stared at the demon sitting behind the desk. Disgust churned inside her. She’d caught him looking at her breasts earlier. The way he gazed at her made her want to take a shower. She suspected he was more interested in sex than her case. She was willing to bet he treated all prostitutes he represented like kind. He handled their cases, but his focus was fucking and getting money
from them. Evil scumbag.
Michael clasped his hands together as if he were praying over his desk. “I want to first remind you the attorney-client privilege clause I am bound by. Anything spoken between us will not be repeated.”
“Is the Law and Order theme song going to play now?”
He smirked with a curl of his upper lip. “You’re smart. I can tell. Which makes me wonder how you got caught.”
Emily gave her best poker face. She didn’t have a story prepared. “What can I say? I guess it was time.”
“From my experience, every prostitute has a record. But the really smart ones make the most money.” He had a crafty expression, which made her wonder what sick and twisted thoughts were in his head.
She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jean jacket. “That’s good to know, because I really need to start earning.”
“Is Spencer really your business partner?”
She lifted a shoulder a smidge. “Business partner. Bodyguard. Friend.”
“Pimp?”
“You say toe-mate-o, I say toe-motto.”
He leaned into his chair and twisted in it. “How much were you making in Florida?”
She bit her tongue. What did working girls make these days? This was part of the reason she hated acting like a hooker. She couldn’t use Google to get answers.
“Couple grand a week,” she said.
He stood, walked around to the front of his desk, and then leaned his rear against it. “How would you like to make that much per day?”
Her brows rose. “What’s the catch?”
He crossed his arms. “How comfortable are you with women and multiple partners?”
“Oh.” She gave a wave of her hand. “Been with both. I can handle either. I think I might have mentioned that the night we met.”
“What about chains? Floggers?”
“I can handle those too. But honestly, I didn’t have many customers in Florida who enjoyed BDSM.”
“Things are different here. Anything goes in the city.”
“If I can make as much as you say, then I’m good for it. I’ll take your drug and blood tests to prove I’m clean. Just tell me when.”
Of course, she really wouldn’t submit to any testing. She didn’t have anything to hide or worry about, but she couldn’t keep the whore act up for too much longer. She knew if she did, she would come closer to getting hurt.
“If you are as clean as you say you are and you agree to go on my payroll, you will make a lot of money. I require free fucks twice a week. While you are on my payroll, you can pay me for legal services in the amount of forty-five percent of your take-home pay.”
“Forty-five percent?” she asked in a high voice even though she didn’t know if the amount was fair or not. It seemed a bit much.
“You can pay your pimp out of your own pocket. I get paid first,” Michael said.
“If I make three grand, you’ll take close to fourteen hundred.”
“If you are willing to do the things most other whores aren’t willing to do, you can easily earn twice that in one night. If you clear three grand a night times five… You can do the math.”
She didn’t need to because she wasn’t fucking anyone, especially him. But if she were going to act the part, then she had to take the opportunity presented.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” she said.
He straightened and walked around his desk. “I’m going to give you a name and number to call. Set up a time for the tests. I’d like to get you on payroll soon.” He took out a business card from his drawer and then wrote on it.
Ready to leave, she stood. “Do you offer these positions to the other prostitutes you represent?”
“Attorney-client privilege, Ms. Reynolds.” He handed the card to her. “After the tests clear, I expect to see you twice a week, and I will use restraints and whips.”
Her pulse accelerated as she took the paper from him. The man gave her chills. Nausea began to rise within her. She placed the card in her pocket and realized her hand was shaking. Andrew needed to kill this demon soon.
“And you’ll let me know about the progress of my case,” she said as she headed to the door.
“Of course.”
He walked behind her. His close presence encouraged her stomach to rebel the breakfast she’d eaten. She needed to get away from him.
“Thank you for meeting with me so quickly.” She opened the door.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said, following her.
Emily headed down the hall. She could feel his gaze on her, analyzing her, undressing her, and probably thinking of all the things he wanted to do. How many other women did he use? How many others had he tied up and whipped? She knew he was fucking Jessica. She’d seen him leave the club with a variety of women. Were they all his play toys too? How many women over the years had he used? She could guess the answers and they made her want to puke.
She reached the door and strode out without looking back.
“Good luck, Ms. Reynolds,” Michael said.
Andrew rose as she hurried to the exit. She didn’t pause to wait for him to catch up. She had to get away and get some fresh air. The demon was a sick, twisted bastard. Now she understood why those in heaven had put his name on Andrew’s arm.
“Em—Carrie,” Andrew said on her way to the elevator.
“Come on. Let’s go,” she said from over her shoulder.
She hit the call button in the main hall. Andrew appeared at her side within seconds. He studied her face. She glanced above him at the black device attached to the wall. Damn cameras were everywhere.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
The ding of the elevator signaled its arrival.
“I’ll tell you outside.”
Andrew deserved credit for the way he’d acted in front of the demon. He’d let her do the majority of the talking. The few questions he’d asked were good ones. When she’d asked him to leave, she’d first thought he might refuse. He’d left her with no complaints. Kudos to him.
He followed her onto the crowded elevator. His brows remained tight while he kept his lips pressed together. She sensed his concern.
“Are all lawyers assholes?” she asked softly. A couple of people chuckled.
The elevator stopped on several floors. Emily’s unease lessened, but her worry grew. How were they going to kill Michael? She’d seen cameras everywhere, except in his office. They could kill him in his office, but people would see them walk in to meet him.
Upon reaching the main level, Emily strode toward the exit. She withdrew the card in her pocket and looked at it. Michael had written Frank on the back and a phone number, which looked different from the one she’d called the other day.
“What’s that?” Andrew asked as he opened the door for her.
“He wants me to call the number to set up a time to get tested.”
The fresh air and sunshine brought a smile to her face. Glad to be away from Michael, she strode down the sidewalk
“Testing for what?” he asked.
“Drugs and diseases. I’m not calling.” She shoved it back into her pocket.
“What did he tell you?”
“Oh, you know, he wants free fucks twice a week and I’d have to give him forty-five percent of my earnings.”
“What?” His eyes enlarged.
“Oh, and he uses restraints and whips so I should be prepared.”
Andrew gripped her arm and brought her to a stop. “Emily, I hope you aren’t—”
“Hell. Fucking. No.”
The tension in his face started to fade. “I know you can take care of yourself, but that whack job…” he said as he directed his thumb behind him. “He’s very dangerous.”
“I know and we are nowhere closer to getting rid of him,” she said as she continued walking.
He stayed at her side. “That place is covered with cameras. We’d never be able to get to him without being seen.”
“We can’t get to him at the
club or his condo either. And I really don’t want to lure him back to the apartment.”
If she could avoid going near him she would. The man disgusted her worse than the demon in Pittsburgh. There had to be some way to kill this guy without being seen.
“If you get too close, you put yourself at greater risk,” Andrew said.
“Trust me, I don’t want to get close.” She withdrew the cell from her pocket. After she tapped the screen a few times, she dialed Troy’s number.
“Who are you calling?”
“Troy. Maybe he can find a way to hack into a system to turn off the cameras.” She lifted the cell to her ear.
“He can do that?” Andrew asked.
“Can’t a man get some peace?” Troy answered.
“It’s afternoon,” she said.
“Not in my time zone.”
“Really? You’re awake. Why are you grouchy?”
“Because some motherfucker bumped my car last night and now I have deal with his stupid insurance company.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. How bad is the damage?” She met Andrew’s gaze and mouthed the words ‘car accident’.
“He backed into the side of my car. I have a big motherfucking crater in my passenger door.”
“Were you hurt?”
“I wasn’t in my car. I was with some friends and we were standing around, talking on the lot.”
She looked at Andrew and shook her head. He gave her a thumb up.
“So there were other witnesses?” she asked.
“At least three. The asshole should be glad to be alive. I wanted to beat the motherfucker to death right then and there.”
“If I could help you, I would.”
He sighed heavily. “Enough about my problems. Tell me about your horrible life with the angel.”
“He’s fine, but we have an issue with our target.”
“Do tell,” Troy said, sounding intrigued.
“As you know, he’s a public figure. We have checked out his condo building and just came from his place of employment. Cameras are everywhere, except his actual office. And there’s no way we can get to him at the club. So that leaves us with either his home or work. We need privacy. Do you think you could help us out?”
