Sure enough, there was something else inside. She upended the envelope and a credit card dropped into her hand. She flipped it over and saw her name embossed on it. With a question in her eyes, she looked at Harden.
“Company credit card. You have permission to use it for personal items.”
A credit card took longer than a week to process, so when did he get it approved? That was the question she should ask. Instead, she asked, “Personal items like what?”
“Clothing, etcetera.”
“Oh, really?” The man was as transparent as his floor to ceiling windows. Instead of saying her wardrobe needed an upgrade, like a thousand yesterdays ago, he gave her a company credit card. She was so not calling him out on it.
“Yes.” He stood and headed back toward his office on the other side of the suite. The front door opened and the man guarding the penthouse entered. “What?” Harden demanded.
“Ms. Playne has a guest.”
“Who?” Harden snapped as Jentry climbed to her feet.
Harden beat her to the door by a mile. That didn’t stop her from following and having the door closed before she got there. Oh, no! If someone were here to see her, she was damn well gonna see them, whether he agreed or not.
She knew that wasn’t how things were going to work, but damn it, at least she could see who the person was before he told them to get lost. The closer she got to the door, the more she wondered who it could be. A limited number of people knew she was here. Jane was the only person it could be. She probably wanted a recap of last night.
The door opened. Harden entered, his features strangely neutral as he stepped aside and held the door open for—her mother.
Laverne Playne entered the penthouse as if she owned the entire building and had come to evict a delinquent tenant. Her gaze, as powerful as a pressure washer stripping grime off a house, swept around the room, then swept from the top of Jentry’s head to her unpolished toenails. Laverne Playne—judge, jury, and executioner. Jentry was assessed and judged, except her mother’s eyes weren’t as frosty. There was a distinct warmth in her dark brown eyes as she looked at her second daughter, and Jentry wasn’t sure how to take it.
“Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”
Her mother pulled off her gloves and unzipped her coat. “Hello, Jentry.” She closed the distance between them and pulled Jentry into her arms for a bone crushing hug. Tears flooded Jentry’s eyes because it felt so good to have her mother’s arms around her. It had been so long. And the hug went on and on.
Jentry’s breath caught. Someone was dead. That’s why her mother was here, not for her, but because of someone else. That didn’t diminish how wonderful it felt to have her mother’s arms around her. She opened her eyes and met Harden’s gaze over her mother’s shoulder. He stood there silently watching them. Boy, she wished she could read him as easily as he seemed to be able to read her. A wistful smile darted across his lips. It vanished quickly, but it was there. She saw it. The man had a sentimental side. She never would’ve guessed.
Breaking eye contact was hard, but she did it and pulled away from her mother. “Who’s dead?” And was it related to the Russians?
Her mother sighed, almost as if in disappointment. “No one. I’m here to discuss your father’s fifty-fifth birthday. We’re having a party, a small one.” She emphasized. “Immediate family only at the beach house. I want new family portraits done for the occasion.”
“Excuse me.” Harden interrupted. Arms folded across his chest, his biceps bulged, making him seem broader, adding another layer of intimidation to his physical arsenal. “You ladies do realize you both are on lockdown?”
Her mother’s gaze cut to Harden and Jentry retreated a step. When it came to intimidation, they were on equal footing. This was gonna be good.
“Harden Gage? Correct?”
“Yes, Mrs. Playne. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand.
Slowly, she extended her hand and just as slowly shook it. “My daughter’s boss and protector. Thank you.”
A cordial discussion was not what Jentry expected.
“It’s my pleasure. Jentry and Allie’s safety is my primary concern. You have my sworn promise, nothing will ever happen to them.” He looked over her mother’s shoulder. “Where’s your bodyguard, ma’am?”
Laverne waved her hand behind her. “Back there, in the hallway.”
“He should be at your side. In the hallway can’t save you.”
“Like he has a chance getting into this fortress armed,” Laverne snapped. Jentry swallowed her chuckle. There was the mother she knew, loved, took after, and feared.
Her mother’s narrowed gaze latched onto the head of the syndicate. “I damn well know you will protect my family because like most men, you have something to prove. Capability. You claim you can do something, so you will. Because you’ve proven this time and again, I agree. I’ll take you at your word because the ramifications are disastrous if you don’t.” She stepped closer to Harden, straining her neck to keep her eyes locked on his. “I’m not gonna threaten you, Mr. Gage. Not because it would be foolish, God knows I’ve been that and more. Not because I think you wouldn’t humor the threats of a five foot two, overweight, menopausal middle-aged woman.” Her voice was low, seductively laced with subtle threats. Did Harden catch the threat to his life and limbs? Probably not, which made her mother’s speech all the more fascinating.
“I’m not going to threaten you because you’ll hurt yourself more than anything I could ever do if you let something happen to Allie and Jentry.” She pointed a finger in his face. “You will because you are your own worst enemy.”
Even Allie was silent while the weight of her words settled. Harden stood there, still as a statue, startled confusion on his face. Her mother had that effect on most. Mobster, killer, multi-millionaire, he wasn’t immune.
Laverne stepped back and smiled, pleased with Harden’s stupefied submission. “My husband’s birthday is in ten days. That is more than enough time for family portraits, and for you and Julius to coordinate security.” She paused, giving Harden a chance to say something, anything. Not a single word dropped from his sealed lips.
Pleased, Laverne dismissed Harden and returned her attention to Jentry. “Julius found a photographer who accepted the deadline, but we have to meet Wednesday evening for the sitting. I came to tell you and Jane. Where is she?”
Startled by the switch up from one topic to the next, Jentry looked at Harden, whose gaze whipped to hers. He shrugged and shook his head. Jane wasn’t here, asleep in a guest room, was she? By his bland stare, Jentry guessed the answer was no. Jane wasn’t sleeping here in a guest room and she wasn’t at the beach house.
Oh fuck!
The last time she saw her sister was at the club. Jane was with Nick, right? He got her safely out of Denizen last night. So, where were they?
Harden fished his phone out of his pocket and spun away. He had to be calling Nick, who better have a good damn answer.
Laverne spotted Allie and squealed. “There’s my baby girl.” She ditched her coat and purse on the sofa and scooped Allie into her arms. “Grandma missed her Allie cat!” She bounced a babbling Allie on her hip and looked at Ms. Vicki, who had reappeared. “And who are you?”
Ms. Vicki extended her hand. “I’m the nanny.”
“Hmm. Nanny, huh?” Her mother’s head cranked around, and her glare cut into Jentry. She didn’t need to say a word. Her eyes said it all, but that never stopped Laverne Playne. “You have a nanny when her grandmother is perfectly capable of watching her?” Her voice rose with each word until it was nails on a chalkboard high.
“I’ll be in my office attending to some business.” Harden beat feet and headed down the hall.
You damn coward! She glared at his retreating back. Ms. Vicki beat feat too. Jentry was alone with her mother. Yay!
“Bringing Allie back and forth every morning for you to watch her isn’t feasible. Mr. Gage was kind enough to hire
a nanny for Allie so I can work.” Yeah, she’d caught onto him, but she wasn’t going to complain when she needed the help.
The weight of her mother’s glare could’ve buried a cruise ship one thousand feet deep in wet cement. “Allie could’ve stayed with me for as long as she needed. Days—”
“Weeks. Months. Years.” Jentry finished for Laverne. “That’s the problem, Mom. Allie is my daughter. She belongs with me. I’m not the perfect mother. But she’s still my daughter. Not yours.”
“I never said she was mine,” Laverne snapped.
“What do you always say, Mom? Actions speak louder than words.” Jentry waited for her mother’s reply and got nothing. She loved her mother, respected her, but when it came to Allie, she was her grandmother.
Jentry couldn’t blame their rift on her mother’s assault on her parenting skills. From birth, they’d had a difficult relationship. Her mother chalked it up to the middle child syndrome. Maybe. Jentry certainly felt left out and singled out in her family.
“Mom, believe it or not, I don’t want to argue, and I hope you didn’t come over here to argue.”
Contrite, her mother shook her head. “No. I didn’t. This was my attempt at…a bridge, I guess. You and I have always been oil and water and I just don’t know why.”
Jentry knew why. They were too similar in thoughts and emotions. This apple bounced off the tree instead of falling next to it.
“You’re my daughter and I love you. I love my granddaughter. I need you both in my life. Plus, your father hasn’t said more than two words to me since the argument.”
Her mother didn’t do well with the silent treatment.
“I want you to come home with me to the beach house with the entire family. This is the time when we should all be together. Especially when it’s not safe here.”
Jentry took exception to that thought, her mother wasn’t wrong. That didn’t mean she was right either. “Well, I don’t think Allie would be safe at the beach house.”
“Why wouldn’t she? Julius Morgan is a billionaire businessman. Allie would be perfectly safe in his home.”
“As opposed to her being safe with a mob boss? You’re wrong. I’ve never been safer. We’ve never been safer.”
“Really? The head of the New York syndicate with a baby underfoot? Dodging bullets and God knows what.”
“So, the bodyguards at the beach house are unarmed? They’ll use harsh language if attacked?”
Her mother glared daggers, which was her nonverbal way of admitting she was wrong.
The front door opened, and Nick strolled in. The shortest of Harden’s men, he still topped six feet with soft black hair and eyes that were more gray than blue. Today, stubble covered his jaw, as opposed to his usual clean-shaven appearance. He paused, his gaze sweeping over Jentry and her mother as he opened his leather bomber jacket to shove his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Morning, ladies. Harden in his office?”
The beginnings of a black eye formed on the right. And his lip was split. If he left with Jane, who the hell roughed him up when no blood was shed? At least that’s what Jentry thought. And where the hell was her sister? A hole formed in the pit of her stomach. “Yes. Let me show you the way.”
Nick frowned at her. “Um. I’ve been here before.”
Today that’s not how this works. “Mom. I’ll be back.” Jentry walked up to Nick and said, “Follow me.”
The man fell in line and Jentry didn’t waste any time. As soon as they rounded a corner and were out of her mother’s sight, Jentry was in his face. “What happened to my sister?”
Frowning, he reared back. “Nothing happened to your sister.”
“Then where is she?” Jentry demanded.
“Last I saw, she walked into Morgan’s beach house in Montauk. Very much alive.”
That couldn’t have happened last night, otherwise her mother wouldn’t have darkened her doorstep. “When did that happen?”
“An hour ago.”
An hour ago! “What the hell were you two doing all night?”
The left corner of his mouth curled, giving her a glimpse of straight white teeth. He leaned in. She wasn’t afraid as he came close to her ear and whispered, “A gentlemen never tells.”
It was Jentry’s turn to rear back. She really didn’t know Jane’s type, but it wasn’t Nick. Not her strait-laced sister. She dated college geeks, nerds with 4.0 GPAs. No. She wasn’t buying it. “You have a black eye and a split lip.” Jane was a nerd, but she also took some boxing lessons with her self-defense classes. She knew how to handle herself.
“I shouldn’t have to explain this, but sometimes two consenting adults have rough sex.” His tone was condescending.
Well slap her stupid. Jane and rough sex. How would Jentry ever get the resulting imagery out of her brain? “Um. Okay.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to see the boss.”
But the boss was already here, standing outside his office door, his face a mask of fury. “One of you better tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Nick jerked away, practically plastered himself to the opposite wall, his mouth open, ready to respond, when Jentry cut him off. “What exactly do you think is going on outside your office with my mother and daughter around the corner? Really, what could we possibly be doing?” And how dare he take that proprietary attitude. He wasn’t her father, and he didn’t own her.
Harden stepped between them. Nick vanished into the office, leaving them in the hallway alone even though the penthouse was full of people. Without saying a word, he’d made his point. She backed up until her back was against the wall and she had nowhere else to run.
She strained to keep eye contact. He didn’t make it easy standing so close, but she refused to back down. A smirk twisted his lips, and just like that, her gaze shifted. She wanted his lips on hers, his taste on her tongue again, his hands on her body.
His fingers caressed her cheek and traced down to her jaw and across to her chin. “I could pin you to this wall with your legs around my waist and your wet heat around my cock regardless of who’s in the living room.”
God, she was suddenly wet. Soaked and achy. And damn it, he wasn’t totally wrong. She couldn’t deny his words when she wanted him to pin her to the wall and take her. Take it all.
He leaned in. Breathless, she waited for his mouth to cover hers, but the bastard trailed his lips across her skin, leaving awareness from the corner of her mouth to her ear. “Deny it. I dare you.”
Her mouth dried. Pride demanded she deny it even though her clit throbbed, and her nipples could cut diamonds. She angled her hips and brought their pelvises together. Harden groaned. Unless he had a pole hidden in his pants, he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Oh my God! He’s jealous! The news was a sucker punch to the forehead. Harden was… jealous because of her. Unreal. She needed a few hours to wrap her head around her new reality when she only had seconds with Harden staring down her throat.
“I deny or admit nothing.” She scooted away and didn’t look back to see if he watched her retreat. She didn’t need to when the heat from his eyes roasted her ass as she returned to the relative safety of the living room.
“Jane just called. She’s home. Spent the night at Sheridan’s.”
Jentry kept her snort to herself. “That’s nice. Girlfriend bonding.”
Laverne handed Allie to her mother. “Wednesday, family portrait. Just the ladies and my Allie cat.” She tickled Allie’s chin. “Two outfits. One black. One white.”
Great excuse to go shopping. “Will do.”
Her mother pulled on her coat and picked up her purse. “I’ll text you the address.” She headed for the door with Jentry trailing behind but stopped. “Make sure the outfits are appropriate. Tits and ass covered. The portrait is going on my wall.”
She’d almost made it to the exit, but her mother had to pause one more time. “I trust you to keep yourself and Allie safe. You did it long en
ough without any help from me or the family. I don’t trust that Harden Gage. He’s not a good man. Just be careful. Promise me you will, okay?”
One thing Jentry had was experience with bad men. While Harden wasn’t good, he wasn’t bad, not in the good vs. evil scenario. Was he a criminal? Oh, hell yeah! But he wasn’t bad. Not deep down. Explaining it to her mother was pointless. In her world everything was black and white with little gray.
“Okay, Mom.”
Jentry bounced Allie on her hip as her mother left. Criminal or saint, she’d thrown her lot in with Harden Gage and wasn’t changing it. Well, she doubted he’d let her, and that was fine with her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Seated behind his desk, Harden had a thimble worth of patience. It took Karpovilov long enough to decide to reply. It was a ploy, an obvious one Harden would’ve used and hated it being used on him.
He glanced at the clock on the computer. Fifteen minutes, that’s how long they’d waited. His finger tapped a tune on his desk. On the other side of the desk, Bruno shifted in his seat. He had as much patience as Harden. He rose and crossed to the bar to refill his whiskey and brought the bottle to top off Harden’s drink.
“How long we’re gonna give him?” Nick asked from his seat on the sofa.
Harden didn’t have an answer, which didn’t sit right with him. Leader of the crew, he had to have the answers. He shrugged and turned from the window to look at Nick.
“What happened to you last night?”
Nick was a cagey bastard. He kept everything close to his vest. Gave nothing away, which was the usual M.O. for all his men. Though Nick was a bit more extreme. He wasn’t secretive, per se. He just didn’t share anything without being asked. Staring at the black eye and busted lip, Harden was asking.
“What?” Nick liked to spew one-word answers.
Harden pointed to Nick’s face and waited.
“This?” Nick touched his eye and winced a little. “An elbow got me.”
“Is that elbow still attached to the body that swung it?” Bruno joined the conversation.
Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong (Plain Jane Series Book 4) Page 17
