Redeemed: Ruined and Redeemed Duet - Book 2

by Johnston, Marie

  “I’m not sleeping with anyone.” Her gaze darts to the door. “Trying to seduce some rich fuck so I don’t have to clean other rich prick’s toilets for a living while they try feeling my ass up doesn’t mean I’m a whore.”

  Well, that’s revealing. Elsa is a jaded woman, but I’m glad to hear she refers to Jacobi as a rich fuck and not with longing. “Why don’t we have a seat?”

  “I’ll wait until I hear the job.”

  While we stand like we’re in a faceoff, I explain the situation, leaving out how Jacobi and I met. Only that Diana is a rich widow and I’m the daughter who was left an empire. I finish with, “So, we have a friend who’s a PI. He’ll watch you the whole time and be near you. We really only want to know if the guy we’re after will bite on the heiress schtick.”

  Her mouth purses harder the more I talk. She’s going to bail. I should’ve had her sign the NDA first, but I can’t escape the sense of responsibility. And I was hoping she’d bail as soon as I detailed what the job actually entailed.

  But I needed to make sure she had all the information. I hate feeling like I’m sending her to the wolves. It’s why I insisted I talk to her instead.

  “I think I should run across him first and see if he’s interested based off my looks,” she says, her arms still crossed, but her hip is kicked out. “Then we orchestrate a way for me to run across him while revealing I have a shitload of money. And I’ll need a new wardrobe.”

  “Are you sure? If you at any time think there’s any danger—”

  She blows me off and wanders farther into the house. “Mr. Dixon was a good employer, good to his staff. If he thinks this guy is a piece of shit, he probably is.”

  Without Jacobi, who also waited until Dad was gone to target us, we would’ve been vulnerable. Maybe Diana wouldn’t have married Roland and been talked out of a prenup, but I might’ve been duped by Danielson. Too damn pleasing to know what was happening.

  So we’re doing this. I swallow hard. I was honest with Elsa, but I’m nowhere near as comfortable with this scenario as she is. As Jacobi is. How did he live in this world?

  Does he still? “I’ll send you the money by the end of the day. Let’s go over what you’ll need.”

  Jacobi comes down the stairs. His hands are stuffed in loose black linen pants and his guarded gaze is on Elsa.

  She glances up. “Hey. Did you find another maid?”

  “Not yet,” he answers, cautiously.

  “I can make a few recommendations. You’re not creepy, so I’m sure they’ll be glad to work with you.”

  He dips his head. “Thank you.”

  Elsa lifts a shoulder. “With clients like you, the ones who pay a shit ton and don’t try to sleep with us or traffic us, we make sure you’re taken care of. Or we try to marry you.”

  She says it so matter-of-fact, I’m taken off-guard. “Is it that rare to be treated decently?”

  “Can be. It was supposed to be temporary. I actually started cleaning for a big director. Thought it was my in. Turned out he was recording me and jacking off to it. And I suspected he was a pedophile.”

  “That’s awful,” I say.

  “Perverts pay well. So when they’re not a pervert”—she points to Jacobi— “we try to keep them any way we can. Sorry about all that.”

  “No problem. Cannon’s on his way. We want to make sure you feel comfortable with him before we send you out.”

  Jacobi sits with us and elaborates on the scheme. Kase is going to learn where Danielson frequents and then Elsa will happen to show up, but won’t engage. That interaction is based on looks alone. The second time they cross paths, it’ll be when she can flash her Black Card. If that catches his attention, she’ll take it deeper.

  We flush out the details so Jacobi and Kase can create an online life solid enough to fool Danielson.

  Elsa runs through the plan. “I’m Hadley. Born and bred in the O.C. My mom died when I was young and my dad just passed away, leaving me with loads of cash and an aimless future. I need a big strong man to help me know what in the world to do with my life.”

  “But with less snark,” Jacobi laughs.

  Elsa rolls her eyes. “Please. It’s so stereotypical, you know it’s going to work. One thing I’ve learned in this town—predators are gonna be predators.”

  Cannon walks right in. Elsa doesn’t fall over herself like I expect her to, and after talking with her the last hour, I shouldn’t have expected it. She’s not looking for a guy.

  And Cannon surprises me as well. The two get on like instant brother and sister. He must find her jaded frankness refreshing and she must have a sensitive radar for womanizing commitment-phobes.

  Kase sends Jacobi a message that Danielson likes to frequent a bar in West Hollywood that’s not far from my place.

  Ugh. Is he stalking me?

  Elsa pushes off her chair. “Give me a day to shop for the appropriate attire. Lord knows I have no Prada in my closet. Tomorrow night, I’ll stop in and have a drink.”

  After she leaves, Jacobi pegs Cannon with a hard stare. “You sure you can blend?”

  Cannon’s face is full of scruff and his Hawaiian shirt has seen better days. “I clean up well. Don’t worry. Besides, that place is nothing but windows. I doubt I’ll have to go inside. It’s just a drive-by-is-he-interested thing.” He looks at me. “But I can’t believe you’re all for this.”

  The sensitive flesh inside my lip isn’t going to survive this stake-out or whatever it’s called. “I’ve been persuaded that it’s the best option.”

  He nods slowly and I get the feeling he’s fighting not to exchange a glance with Jacobi. Does it have to do with those secrets? Does Cannon know them? Kase? Is it selfish to hope they don’t?

  Jacobi’s hot hand lands on the small of my back. “It’s a special case.”

  Cannon lifts a brow as if he senses I’m not fully on board, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to deal with me. He pushes himself up. “I have to find some threads that’ll make me blend with the upscale con artist crowd. Think Elsa would be up for working for me?”

  I don’t know what Cannon means, but Jacobi answers. “You mean will she try to seduce men and women whose spouses think they’re cheating douchebags? If you pay well enough.”

  Oh. That makes sense. And considering how Elsa feels about everyone in LA, she’d probably take the job.

  When Cannon leaves, I’m alone with Jacobi. “Have you ever had this much company before?”

  The corner of his mouth lifts. “No. You’re the special case.”

  “I don’t know what you’re afraid to tell me, but remember that.”

  “I will.” He presses a kiss to my mouth. Then another. Next, I’m being lifted onto the table and my shorts are getting stripped off. He thrusts inside and I let out a groan. “As long as you remember that there is nothing I won’t do for you.”

  Chapter 22

  Jacobi

  “We don’t have to be there for the walk by.” I pour a glass of wine for London.

  She’s jittering off her chair. Our phones are out, waiting for Cannon to shoot us updates. “I just wish we could be there.”

  “Too risky. Danielson could see us. He’d know something’s up.”

  She takes a sip of her cabernet. “Think he’s actually going?”

  “Since you turned down Diana’s invitation to go out with her and Roland, he might. He might try to win Diana over first to gain your favor. And then go out.”

  “I wish we could tell her.”

  I did too. But if we were wrong then we ruined her relationship. She wouldn’t want to date Roland after thinking he might be conning her. And if he was, then her relationship would be over soon enough.

  London takes a long drink of her wine. Her nerves are killing her.

  I abandon my wine and circle around the island to massage her shoulders. “Are you worried about Elsa?”

  “Yes.” She leans back into me until I have to give up the massage. I curl my arm
s around her. “What if he’s smarter than we think? What if he knows we’re onto him?”

  “We don’t even know if there’s anything to be onto.” I could know quick enough. But I’ll wait to see if Elsa’s ruse works first.

  “Are you sure that what you and Kase set up online looks real?”

  “It’s legit. And we can track where any visitors come from. But I doubt we’ll have to do it after tonight. We don’t even know if he’ll notice her.”

  She puts her arms on the countertop and drops her head into her hands. “How many glasses of wine will kill this headache?”

  She took care of me during my last migraine. I had one during the month we didn’t talk after our divorce and it was fucking awful. There was nothing unique about it, just that she wasn’t there.

  “Come on.” I lift her into my arms. She lets out a little squeak but settles in.

  I carry her up to my bedroom and I’m sure she thinks I’m just going to fuck her mind off of things tonight, but I’m not. Not yet, anyway.

  I lay her across the bed. “Wait here.”

  She settles in with a sigh. I go to the bathroom and retrieve the massage oil she used on me. Returning to the bed, I look my fill of London’s curvy body. Her golden legs are sprawled and her arm’s slung over her forehead.

  I’m glad my plan wasn’t to sex her headache away. She needs more from me than that.

  Carefully sitting on the edge of the bed so I don’t shake the mattress and make her headache worse, I shake a few drops of oil onto my fingers.

  She moves her arm and sniffs. “Is that my massage oil?”

  “Remember in Cabo when I told you that my mom used the same oil for my migraines?”

  Her luminous eyes fill with sympathy. “It’s probably her recipe. It’s one of the company’s oldest formulas.”

  Then it likely was. I can’t summon anger. My mom wasn’t the first to come up with massage oil or to use essential oils in them, but she made meticulous notes about what worked best. And those formulations are still out there, still in use and helping others.

  I can learn to be happy with that.

  “Relax and roll over,” I murmur, dropping that part of the conversation.

  She does as I ask. I start at her temples, using the same strokes she used on me. Her body melts into the blankets. Rolling up her shirt, I work on her back and her shoulders.

  Touching her like this triggers every blood cell to rush to my dick. Telling myself that’s not what I brought her up here for doesn’t work.

  Her breathing is deep and even. To save myself from coming in my pants, I scoot off the bed.

  “Lay with me.” Her voice is muffled and she doesn’t move.

  I can take more pain. Lying next to her and not stripping her down and taking her is going to leave me with an acute case of blue balls, but I stretch out next to her.

  “What’s Cannon’s story?” Her eyelids flutter open. “You trust him so much and you don’t trust many people.”

  “I met both my friends playing online games. We met in person and the rest is history.” I can’t tell her everything. Like how I learned exactly who Kase was because I talked about hating someone so much I wanted to take away everything he took from me.

  And Kase said he could help with that. Cannon often assisted him in his cases. Kase isn’t exactly a fixer in the same way his parents were. He’s more of a breaker. And I wanted to break Dennis Vanderbeek.

  “How is the rest history?” Her smile is sleepy. “How does someone get close to Jacobi Dixon without being forced to marry him?”

  We used each other’s services. Cannon’s good at getting information that we can’t find in a database. That’s the part I excel at and Kase isn’t so bad himself. But he’s better at manipulating the information, at removing the problem entirely.

  You sure you want to do this, man?

  Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.

  Kase knows me better than I know myself. Between him and Cannon, London’s presence in the world was shoved under my nose. From that first picture, she had me and proved my friends right.

  Cannon’s pictures didn’t do her justice. Her pureness oozed through the frame. I tried to tell myself that it was deceptive, that my mother’s products made her look that innocent, it was nothing but a mask.

  But I was captivated. Lost.

  Now I’m here. Poised to lose her again.

  She’s waiting for me to answer, her gaze unwavering. “They were the first people I met that I felt like knew what I went through. We didn’t have to talk about the touchy-feely shit, we just got it.”

  “They grew up like you?”

  “Dunno. Cannon was in the military, but he doesn’t talk about it much. He was pretty much homeless, couch-surfing with friends and different hookups when one joked about hiring a PI to see if her dad was back into drugs. Cannon took the job and the rest is history.”

  “What about Kase?”

  The phone saves me from answering. I trust Kase. And I trust London. But Kase’s life isn’t mine to tell and telling it brings me closer to telling her my secrets.

  I answer and Cannon doesn’t wait to say, “He didn’t bite. She sat two barstools down from him, but he was balls deep in his phone.”

  “So we can at least assume that he won’t be after her for her looks.”

  “It’s a start.”

  London’s frowning. She’s not used to playing the long game, to waiting out an opponent to get the information you want. That’s my territory. That’s what Cannon, Kase, and I do.

  “I’ll trail Elsa home,” Cannon says. “Kase is covering Danielson to see when he’s going to hit the bar next.”

  “Got it.”

  “Damn it,” London says when I hang up. “We have to do this again?”

  “We might have to do it a few more times.” I roll until I’m over her, propping myself on my arms. It’s time to handle those nerves of hers.

  As I drop my head, I think about how much faster I can verify what Danielson is really after. I’ll start on it tonight.

  * * *

  London

  “It’s been a week.” I never thought I was an impatient person, but Elsa struck out the first night. Danielson goes for a drink every other night. She’s left out her Black Card and he didn’t blink. The third night, she tried talking him up, acting like a ditz who couldn’t figure out how to be rich without a big supportive man.

  He didn’t bite.

  They’ve convened at Jacobi’s. Elsa’s on a stool at the island, designer glasses purchased to lure Danielson are perched on the top of her head. Cannon is sitting at the dining room table, wearing the same shirt he had on the last time he was over, his feet kicked up on the surface. Since I’m not officially living here, I don’t say anything. And I’ve never seen Jacobi eat off the table anyway. Plus, the new maid Elsa recommended is fabulous. Another aspiring actor who’s grateful that his ass won’t get pinched or jerked off to while he’s sweeping.

  Jacobi is standing behind me. I’ve slept over every night this week, and each time Elsa is trying to catfish Danielson, we hang out and talk. He keeps my anxiety from eating me alive.

  “Do you want it to be him?” Elsa sounds amused. None of this bothers her. In fact, she and Cannon have become partners in their short time together. She lives for seducing some poor fuck and having Cannon catch it on camera. A big payday for a job well done and they’re both happy.

  I bet she makes more working for Cannon than cleaning mansions.

  Do I want Danielson to be guilty as hell? If that means this not-knowing would be over, yeah. “I want to know who’s after my company.”

  Jacobi’s kept a close eye on Natural Glow every day since he learned there was an issue. His cybersecurity is unparalleled. He’s been holed up in his office most of the week. When I wake up, he’s in there, but comes out to have breakfast. When I come back from work, that’s where he’s at. He assures me it’s normal, but he hasn
’t even been out for a swim.

  Is it the extra work of monitoring Natural Glow? He promised not to hack Roland or Danielson, but I can also see how badly it bothers him when I’m stressed about Elsa.

  Cannon closes his laptop and rises. “If he’s just wanting a mom-daughter deal with his dad so he can be the bad boy dating his stepsister, we’ll find out.”

  “Eww.” I’ve never wanted to double with Diana.

  “But he’s not after just any heiress,” Elsa adds. “He either has a hard-on for you, or you’re easier money than me. We’ll find out what he’s up to.” She slips off her stool and gives me a quick hug. It’s an unexpected show of affection from a normally hard woman.

  Emboldened by the act, I ask, “Hey, want to come out for drinks with me and my friends Penni and Holland sometime?” I wring my hands together like I’m back in high school asking to sit at the same table as the well-known ballerina with a resting bitch face like nothing I’ve seen. And that worked out fine with Penni.

  Her eyes narrow. Not quite the gleeful acceptance I mistakenly expected. “Are they rich California girls like you?”

  “Yes?” I let out a breath. It was worth a shot. I shouldn’t have assumed Elsa would want to socialize with people who live like the ones who’ve used their power to abuse her. “They’re exactly like me.”

  “Well, maybe if they’re exactly like you.” She gives me a grudging smile. “Hit me up sometime.” She pulls the sunglasses down. The aviator shades transform her cynical edge to haughty aloofness. She put the wardrobe allowance to good use.

  Cannon follows her out and they’re talking about a job next Friday.

  “I can’t believe that didn’t work.” But Elsa’s safe and my conscience can take a long bubble bath.

  Jacobi leans against the island. “It was only a week.”

  From the set of his mouth, I know he thinks a week was enough to test a con artist. “Now what? If it’s not him?”

  “I keep tracking the addresses that try to hack your account. Half the ones that say they’re from China, I’ve followed back to the US.” His lips flatten, but he leaves it at that.