“Why are you here?” The words came but she hadn’t seen his lips move.
“I’m…” Any other time, she would’ve had no problem gathering her thoughts and speaking her mind. Now, everything in her brain was jumbled. And everyone waited on her next words as if she had the numbers to the next Mega Millions. Not that Harden or his minions needed lottery money.
“I need a babysitter.”
Someone snorted. Harden looked over his shoulder and silence reigned.
“Why?” he asked.
“I have to go to work.”
He frowned. “Why?”
What? “Because I need to earn a paycheck.” Allie doesn’t eat air.
“And I’m supposed to find you a babysitter?”
“You fired Mrs. Francis!” She didn’t mean to shout, but did the man have amnesia or was he fucking with her? A lightbulb went off over his head. Seconds later, his frown resumed. She didn’t have time for this. “Where’s Gerard? That’s who I came to see.” That’s who could help her.
“I gave him the day off.”
“Great! I’ll call Mrs. Francis and see if she can watch Allie. God knows what time I’ll make it to work,” she said more to herself than Harden.
Jentry marched out of the penthouse, past the guard, and returned to her apartment. She needed their coats and her purse.
She jumped when the door slammed behind her. Harden was there, standing in front of the door. Black pants, Hermes belt, white button-down shirt open at the collar and showing the column of his neck, rolled sleeves showing his muscled forearms. Annoyance, that’s what she sensed in the tension of his body and the glint in his eyes. He didn’t want to be here. Well, neither did she.
Voice low and hostile, he said, “You do realize I own Catalyst.”
“Really! I had no damn idea.” Stick a fork in her, she was done. Allie started to cry, and she didn’t have time for this. “You being the boss has nothing to do with me needing to get to work. I have a job. A real job that pays me money for actual work.” Allie started wailing and nothing Jentry did stopped it. “I’m not on my back or on a pole. I sling drinks and I’m damn good at it. I like my job. It could pay more, but hey, isn’t that always the case. I’m in the process of looking for another one because I don’t want a handout. I want—”
Harden held out his hands. “Give me the child.”
Jentry held her tighter, which made Allie cry harder.
Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides. “You’re not working tonight. Things have come up. Stay here until I tell you otherwise.” Then he was gone.
Fuck! What the hell has Calista gotten me into?
Chapter Five
Harden stalked down the hallway, his mood strange. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. After spending the entire night and all day relocating hardware and people, his temper was threadbare, a ragged tendril held together from sheer stubbornness. And he was drained. The coming war would be brutal and unforgiving. As all wars should be. With his backup plan in place, the fallout from the loss of the warehouse hadn’t been a catastrophe.
Harden stopped in front of Richard, or Rich as everyone called him. Jentry would’ve first interacted with him before gaining entry. Once inside, Aaron would’ve alerted him to her presence since Gerard was relieved of his duties.
In times like these, Harden preferred staff not linger and catch stray bits of conversation. He trusted Gerard and paid him well enough to ensure his loyalty, but everyone had a price. Everyone could be bought.
“What happened with the woman?”
Sweat beaded Rich’s upper lip. “I knew she was a guest, Mr. Gage. Only peeps who stay in that apartment are guests. But you were busy dealing with things, you know.” His voice lowered conspiratorially. “That’s what I told her, you know. Especially since she didn’t say it was an emergency. And I asked. Didn’t think you wanted a female around with business being conducted.”
Harden studied the man from his two-bit, off-the-rack suit down to his scuffed shoes. He was young, early twenties, and new to their outer circles. Eager to be noticed. Harden was there once, on the outside looking in, on the lowest rung of the ladder even though he was the boss’s son.
Bastard son.
Maybe that’s why he understood Calista so well. They were the same, cast off, sperm dumped in the wrong fertile ground. For a moment, he’d thought about making a play for her. She was a dangerous woman. He was a dangerous man. Together, they were combustible…could’ve been combustible.
He had no regrets when she got with Julius, his best friend. They were made for each other and happy. Their happiness plain to see in the way they looked at each other, touched each other. A happy couple, something Harden had never wanted.
Until Harden saw the child in Pavel’s arms with Jentry by his side looking like a family. Husband, wife, and child.
Mine had reverberated inside Harden’s head as every possessive instinct roared to the surface. He’d been seconds away from ripping the child out of Pavel’s arms and beating the shit out of him for touching what didn’t belong to him.
And he didn’t mean the child. He meant Jentry. And by extension, the kid. He’d deal with that later. For now, he kept his attention on the peon in front of him.
“She comes here for any reason, let her in, and make sure she finds me. Understand?”
Rich visibly swallowed and his head bobbed up and down. “Abso-fucking-lutely, sir.”
Harden entered the penthouse to find the same people lounging in his living room, on his shit, and eating his food. Nothing that hadn’t been previously done, yet now it grated on every single nerve. He wanted to clear the place out and fumigate. Doing so wouldn’t be expedient when he’d just have to call everyone back.
“Clear out.” He ordered. They all existed at his whim, not the other way around. He didn’t wait to see if his order was obeyed. The herd of footsteps heading out the front door was enough to appease him. In his office were the only people he needed to talk to.
Bruno waited, leaning against the wall behind Harden’s desk. Nick occupied the chair in front of the desk, while Leonid relaxed on the leather sofa. And Pavel… He took in the panoramic view from the windows.
Four men. All loyal to him. Twelve years in the trenches with each other. Five years ruling the Irish mob. He had met Bruno first during his first stint in prison. His brother had sent Bruno to kill him. They beat each other to a stalemate. Twice.
Bruno brought Nick into the fold after he saw his wet work. Nick was a country boy who spent time in the military but couldn’t take the structure, which was funny considering how regimented he was. Truth was, he didn’t like the people who gave the orders. The man knew how to take a man down and take him apart. Plus, he’d proven to be a logistic god.
Leonid and Pavel had sought Harden out. The two were Albanian but grew up in America. Of all places, the two met in church. They were not the devout sons their mothers envisioned. Small-time hoods, they robbed when they weren’t in the ring participating in bare knuckle fighting for profit. Harden had won a tidy sum betting on Pavel’s right hook. The two shared everything, including women. After one particular fight, Leonid offered their loyalty and friendship. This was before he joined the syndicate and later took on his brother for leadership of the family that didn’t want him.
“What do you have to report?” Harden gave his attention to Nick.
“My contact in the FDNY told me two bodies were found in the warehouse and nothing else. It was empty.”
Motherfucker. Harden pounded the desk even though he should be pleased. Better his enemy have the weapons than the ATF. Still, it burned.
“Any idea where they took them?” he asked the room.
“No,” Bruno said.
“Streets are quiet,” Nick added.
“I got nothing,” Pavel said.
“The video.” Harden demanded.
Nick picked up his tablet from the coffee table. After a few taps, he turned the device
for all to see. The lighting wasn’t optimal. They should’ve been infrared. Someone skimped. Who? Harden wanted to know. He pressed a button on the keypad near his elbow and the lights in his office lowered. Ah, that’s better. He returned his focus to the video and saw his men sitting around having dinner—Chinese by the cartons. Forty seconds into watching them eat, the head of the man furthest from the camera exploded in a red mist.
“That had to sting,” Leonid murmured.
The rest of the men scrambled, reaching for discarded weapons. It was too damn late. They were picked off. By one man. Once all were down, the gunman came into view. He was dressed in black with night goggles. Harden leaned forward, hoping, praying the bastard slipped up and gave them a peek.
Sure enough, he did. He lifted the goggles off his head and pulled off the ski mask. Nick froze the picture. “Never seen him before.” He looked around the room asking a silent question. Everyone shook their head. “I sent the pic out to everyone. Fingers crossed someone recognizes the bastard.”
Pavel spoke up, his gaze back on the city stretched out below them. “We sure it’s Alezandar? We have many enemies sniffing at the door.”
“It’s him.” Nick beat Harden to the punch. “No one else could’ve pulled this off this cleanly. No one else would’ve had the balls.”
“Agreed.” Bruno chimed in. “All the other families are too sloppy. They can’t keep their mouths shut. We would’ve caught wind of the hit and been prepared.”
“Someone leaked information about our practices. Going forward, we must change things, mix it up. We’ve become predictable, comfortable.” Pavel gave his back to the window.
“Predictable and comfortable leads to prison, or death,” Leonid growled.
“Which are one and the same.” Pavel summed up.
The two coordinated their response. It wasn’t surprising, given how close they were. The two were angry. Good. Guns were in their purview. Someone had whipped out their cock and pissed on Pavel and Leonid’s lawn, and by extension, pissed on the syndicate. They’d get first dibs when the arsonist was caught.
“As does mixing this up and drawing more prying eyes.” Harden admonished.
“In our chosen field of work, prying eyes are always on us,” Bruno said. “It won’t always be this way.”
Bruno was right. It wouldn’t always be this way, but scrubbing clean an organization as large as theirs took time and patience. It had to be done carefully to skirt the authorities. Harden had no desire to switch places with Colin. Not again.
“Nick. We need a new backup plan. Start searching for suitable properties to purchase.”
“Already on it.” Nick scrubbed his hand over the thick stubble on his chin. “We need to offload the properties we moved product from. That won’t be easy in this economy, but I have an idea that’ll bring in clean profits in the long run. I’ll let you know what I find on both ends.” Nick exited without waiting for dismissal. It was his way.
“You two keep your men on a tight leash. It’s too soon to strike, but strike back we will.” Bruno ordered. “And watch your backs.
“Of course,” Leonid answered, and Pavel nodded. Both headed to the exit.
“Pavel.” Harden stopped him. He was surprised neither had asked about Jentry and pleased they didn’t pry. It wasn’t enough. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Harden didn’t have to explain why.
A slow grin spread across Pavel’s face. No malice in the curve of his lips, just surprise at Harden’s possessive command. “Understood, boss. No harm intended.”
Harden tipped his head, dismissing both. He turned to find Bruno staring at him, a smirk on his normally blank face. “What?” Harden snapped, annoyed because he knew what the look meant.
Bruno, the stoic asshole, shook his head and strolled out the door, leaving Harden alone with his thoughts, thoughts that weren’t about Jentry. Someone had sold them out. He had to find out who and put them down, publicly and in graphic detail. No one betrayed the syndicate and lived. No. One.
Chapter Six
The doorbell rang. It was ten in the morning, but Jentry had been up since seven. Allie was a morning person. Her belly was full, her bottom was dry, and she was ready to play. Luckily, this morning, her mother had energy, thanks to not working last night. A full eight hours of sleep left Jentry rejuvenated and depressed. Her situation hadn’t changed with the rising of the sun. Strange place in the belly of the beast. All her norms had been ripped away. This place, while shiny and new, wasn’t her home. She couldn’t get comfortable in a place when she couldn’t put down roots and claim anything. This temporary arrangement had permanent consequences.
One doesn’t play house with the mob.
And it wasn’t even her fault she was in this predicament.
Fucking Calista.
The doorbell rang again, followed by a soft knock.
She couldn’t ignore it and hoped they went away.
“Coming.”
The place was large enough for her voice to echo. She hefted Allie higher onto her hip. They were both decent. Jentry in a worn pair of low-rise jeans and Allie in a onesie. Not that it mattered. She knew Harden Gage wasn’t on the other side of the door. Not by the ringing of the doorbell or the gentle knock. The man wouldn’t hesitate to barge in.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Gerard, ma’am.”
“Ma’am,” she muttered and unlocked the door. The butler, prim and proper, smiled brightly with a troupe of men standing behind him. “Coming to kick me out already?”
The smile dropped from his face. “Oh, no. Not at all, ma’am! These men are here to change one of the secondary bedrooms into a nursery.” Gerard swept past her. It was either move or get run over as the men followed him into the apartment and to the bedroom next to the master suite.
Under his instructions, the bed, nightstands, and dresser were removed and replaced with a teak changing table, dresser, rocker, and the most beautiful circular canopy crib Jentry had ever seen. It was a dream crib straight out of a magazine. Next came the accessories: pink lamps decorated with ribbons and ducklings, matching curtains, which matched the bedding, bumper, and comforter. And on the wall in giant letters was her daughter’s name. ALLIE.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
“Is everything alright, ma’am?” Gerard asked, panicked.
Overcome, she shook her head.
“We can change anything you want. The entire room if you like.” His gaze darted around the room looking for the offensive object causing her breakdown.
Jentry shook her head, huffing and puffing, trying to get herself under control. “It’s beautiful. It’s everything I wanted for her…but couldn’t afford.”
Gerard patted her back and grabbed her fingers, squeezing gently. “There’s more to come.” He nudged her out of the way as four giant boxes were brought into the room. One filled with clothing in Allie’s size, everything she could possibly need. One filled with Pampers. The third held formula in the brand she liked. The fourth, toys, everything from educational to stuffed animals. “I admit to going a bit overboard. Mr. Gage gave me free rein, and I did precisely that,” he said proudly.
“It’s too much.” She sobbed. Allie, feeding off her emotions, started crying.
Jentry leaned into Gerard, who patted her back again until he gave in and hugged her. It was exactly what she needed, a shoulder to cry on for a few moments. She got the sense he understood. He may not know everything she’d been through, the sleepless nights wishing she had more for her daughter, wanting to give her the best, and falling short every single time. But in his caring embrace, he didn’t need to know the hardships to comfort her.
There was one thing she had to remember. One thing above all else. This was temporary. A fantasy come to life. None of this belonged to her and Allie, and at the stroke of midnight, one day soon, it would all vanish, and their real life would resume.
“What happened now?” Harden’s sharp tone jerked them apart.
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Gerard put a body length between them and straightened his livery while Jentry dragged her arms across her wet face. Gerard was kind enough to hand her a handkerchief. “Nothing happened, sir. Miss Playne was momentarily overcome.”
“Why?” He looked around the room. “You don’t like it? We’ll haul it all out and start over.” He stepped closer to her and Allie, who had stopped crying when he entered the room.
“I—” She cleared her throat and gathered her emotions. “I want to thank you. It’s really nice.” She choked up again and had to look away.
“Oh. Well… I’m glad. No need to bawl over it,” he mumbled and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Ugh! Men. Jentry glanced over her shoulder at him, but his attention was on Allie. She snuffled as she wiped her chubby cheeks.
Gerard cleared his throat. “Did you come to tell Miss Playne about the babysitter, sir?” The subtle prodding didn’t go unnoticed.
“Oh, yeah. A babysitter will be by in a few hours.”
“An agency is sending over a few babysitters for you to choose from.” Gerard corrected. “They’ll begin arriving at two. One every thirty minutes. Four in total.”
“Thank you, Gerard.” Hopefully, the babysitter charged the same rates as Mrs. Francis.
∞∞∞
The furniture, bedding, knickknacks, clothes, and all the shit, I bought that. Not Gerard. Harden groused silently in the back seat of his BMW. Fucking women. She gets all emotional over Gerard and I get a thank you.
“Problem?” Bruno asked.
Stewing in anger, Harden had forgotten he wasn’t alone. Bruno was with him. He was always with him.
No was on the tip of Harden’s tongue. “Women. I don’t understand them.” The silence on his right was deafening. Harden angled his head that way and met his underboss’s surprised gaze. “What? I don’t. Why is that surprising?”
“No one understands women. What’s surprising is that you suddenly care.”
Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong (Plain Jane Series Book 4) Page 4
