CLUB DARK LACE: The complete Dark Lace series

by Measha Stone

  He glanced back at his panicked secretary on the telephone trying to both apologize to him and take a message from the person on the line.

  Waving away any guilt she may harbor, he closed the door. No one could stop his father if he wanted into the office. If Baron Croft wanted in a room, he was going in the room.

  “Father.” He grasped the hand being thrust at him. The grip was a little less sturdy than in the past, but his father was getting older. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “You never are.” He pointed at him. “Did you get a chance to read the reports I gave you? I spoke with that friend of yours, Garrick. He’s on board.”

  “Oh, he is?” Jamison hadn’t heard a word from Garrick since their last talk. If he was in full support of the project, he would have informed him before his father.

  “Well, he sounded rather interested.” Always a back door available for backpedaling.

  “I did take a brief look, but I wanted to check out the location, and we should get firm estimates before we start pooling investors—why are you shaking your head at me?” he asked.

  “Because we don’t have time for all that nonsense,” his father said. Nonsense?

  “Since when is market research and projects on the investment nonsense?” Jamison rounded his desk and pulled out the folder his father had given him.

  “Just tell me if you’re interested!” His father’s usually pale complexion tinted red, and his eyes widened with irritation.

  “If it’s a sound investment, then yes, I would be interested. But there’s more to this project than simply building a condominium complex.”

  “No, no, not condos. I told you, I want to build a hotel—well, we’d sell apartments on the top floors, but the rest of the building would be a hotel. International hotel.” Baron’s eyes lit up with the very words.

  “Hotel? We don’t know anything about hospitality ownership. We’ve only ever invested in real estate—”

  “Oh, bullshit, Son. You and your friend own shares in several clubs. Don’t look so surprised. I know what my son is spending his money on at all times. I don’t care much for your afterhours activities, but they appear to bring you some capital gains.”

  Jamison stared. In all the years his father made wild claims, told his outrageous lies to cover up other contemptuous actives, he’d never once mentioned that he knew where all of his investments lay.

  “Don’t get defensive now.”

  “Father, the investments I make are in clubs and restaurants, as well as real estate deals, but none of them are hotels, and I don’t run any of them. I buy shares, a good number of shares, but I don’t purchase main ownership shares because I don’t want to run them.” His involvement at Dark Lace was as deep as he got with his investments.

  Baron’s shoulders slumped. “Look at the reports. You’ll see we will make a mint, and our name will be on the largest international chain since that combover cornered the market.”

  Jamison let himself chuckle over the contempt in his father’s tone. “I’ll look. I promise.” He pushed the folder to the side and sat down in his plush leather chair, his neck still stiff from Carissa’s small bed. He tried to rub away the soreness. “Why are you so hell bent on this particular project? You’ve never been interested in the hospitality game.”

  “I’m not getting any younger,” Baron said.

  Jamison waited a few long moments before he realized it was the only rationalization his father would give. And really, should he be surprised? His father never was one for long-winded explanations.

  “What other investors have you lined up?”

  “There’s the usual interest, but I don’t want them. I want you and Garrick. I want this to be our project, I don’t want a board of stuffy suits to answer to.”

  “I can’t bankroll this sort of project,” Jamison said, patting the folder on his desk.

  “I don’t want you to. You’ll buy shares, just like you do with this company you have. You and Garrick will have the same number of shares, and I’ll have the majority. We’ll use investors for the remaining nine percent.”

  “Nine percent?” Jamison closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Where had his sensible father retreated.

  “I’m putting everything into this venture. You and Garrick will own twenty percent each, the investors will hold nine percent, and I’ll hold fifty-one percent.”

  “Sir. You have a call holding on line three. Carissa. She said you asked her to call you?”

  His girl was learning. And thankfully had good timing. Another minute discussing this harebrained idea, and he might lose his temper.

  “Thank you, Janet. I’ll take it.”

  “I’m doing this with or without you, Son, but I’d rather it be with you.” The sincerity dripped from his tone, and what didn’t make it there, covered his expression.

  “I have to take this. Can we talk about it this weekend? I’ll make a trip over to the space tomorrow and talk with Garrick. We’ll have an answer for you at dinner on Sunday.” He reached for the phone.

  “That’s fine.” His father flashed him a grin. “That lady on the phone your newest conquest?”

  Conquest. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. She was a hell of a lot more than that.

  “She’s my girlfriend,” he said, picking up the receiver.

  “Bring her with you on Sunday.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “On Sunday, or I’ll just track her down.”

  A statement Jamison had no doubt was true.

  “Very well. I’ll bring her by on Sunday.”

  “Tell Garrick to bring his lady friend. I know he’s seeing someone.”

  “I will. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He waved the receiver at him.

  Baron nodded and took his leave, but not before giving him a playful wink on his way out. His father didn’t wink. And he never did anything in a playful manner.

  The phone buzzed, signaling the call was still holding.

  He pressed the button and waited for the line to click live.

  “You have the best timing, Carissa. Thank you.”

  Jade answered the call on the fifth ring. “What’s up, Carissa?”

  Carissa nibbled on her fingernail. “Oh, not much. Are you working today?” She had the day off, but she couldn’t remember if Jade did or not. Having rotating shifts was a pain in her ass. She couldn’t plan much of anything

  “No, I’m off today and tomorrow. Are you okay? You sound wound up about something.”

  How to go about telling her she started dating her best friend’s boyfriend’s friend. She should ease into it, mention that she saw him at the club first.

  “You know Jamison, right? Garrick’s friend.” Good, nice and easy.

  “Yeah, what about him? Did you finally call him back?”

  “No.” She bit into her nail again. “It’s worse than that. I’m dating him.”

  Jade gasped. “What?” She cleared her throat, an obvious attempt to hide her excitement. “That’s great! How did that happen? You finally took his call, texted him back? What happened?”

  “I’ve lost my mind, that’s what’s happened.” She needed Jade to put her back on track with her original decision to stay away from any sort of real relationship in the kink world. Playtime was fine, but nothing real could happen. No matter how natural being held in Jamison’s arms while being put to bed felt. It would not, could not happen.

  “Why? Did he do something wrong?”

  “He’s dating me, Jade. Of course, he did something wrong!”

  Jade gave a dismissive grunt. “You’re being silly—and scared. Mostly scared, I bet.”

  “What are you talking about, scared?” What was there to be afraid of, Carissa was already clued into exactly what would happen with Jamison. It was everyone else who seemed to be out of touch with reality.

  “He’s the first guy to ever take you on, like call you on your bullshit. You like to play with daddies at the clubs
, but now you have one who wants to take you home. It scares you.”

  “Okay, you’re insane.” Carissa walked the length of the hallway to her living room. “You know a kink relationship won’t work for me. They don’t work.”

  Jade sighed. “Really? That’s not at all what you told me two weeks ago when it was Garrick and I we were talking about.”

  “You and Garrick are different. You have the real deal. Inside the bedroom, outside the bedroom, you guys are meant to be together. This isn’t the same thing at all.”

  Jade chuckled. “He’s going to have a time of it with you.”

  “What does that mean?” Carissa walked into the kitchen to get the coffee pot going.

  “It means you have all the answers for everyone else, but completely disregard the same advice for yourself. Whatever you’re afraid of, get over it. Jamison’s a good guy. Garrick wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you at the Mistletoe party if he wasn’t.”

  Deciding she wasn’t going to be getting any support from Jade, she moved the topic away from her. “How is Garrick? I see the two of you have patched things up pretty well?”

  Jade made another dismissive sound. “Yes, every thing’s fine with him now. We’re working on it, and it’s going to be fine. But we aren’t talking about us—we are talking about you. The biggest mistake you can make right now is to tuck tail and run.”

  Carissa considered that for a moment. It wouldn’t be the first time she cut her losses and ran, but it would definitely be the first time she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she wanted to do it.

  “Do you call him Daddy?” Jade whispered.

  “Is Garrick there?” Carissa demanded, turning on the water to fill the coffee pot.

  “No! He’s at work. It’s just me. So, do you?”

  “You know, this conversation has gotten off course. You were supposed to be supportive and tell me to forget the whole thing. Month or no month.” She leaned back against the counter and watched the coffee drip into the pot.

  “What month? What does that mean?” Jade asked with a little more excitement than Carissa could deal with at the moment. Way to keep the conversation low-key and smooth.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  “Carissa McAllister, you are a liar. Tell me, now.”

  Carissa laughed. “Sometimes I think we’re still in high school.” Not that Carissa would want to relive that era. Ever. Best time of her life—fuck no. “Fine. We’re only going to date for a month. Then it’s over.”

  Jade gasped. “What? Just over?”

  “Well, technically we’re supposed to talk about it and see if we want to continue or stop. But we all know it’s going to be over.”

  “You’re a complete idiot if you think Jamison is going to walk away after a month. He’s a really great guy, Carissa. If he’s doing this, offering everything to you like this, it’s because he’s into it. He’s not a bedroom-only Dom if he’s interested in a girl.”

  “But he has jumped from girl to girl, right?”

  “No more than any other guy looking for someone more permanent, or any other girl for that matter. He’s going to take care of you, and you’re going to have to start letting him in. Whatever you learned from your mother’s bad habits in her love life, you have to forget them.”

  Leave it to Jade to bring her mother up. While most mothers were teaching their daughters to be chaste and how to look for the gentlemen, her mother taught her how to peg a guy for a keeper or a loser. Though, she never seemed to get it right—she always seemed to keep the losers.

  “He’s going to be here soon. I’d better go. I still need to get in a run, before I shower.”

  “It’s already two in the afternoon!”

  “I know. I wanted to sleep in, but I knew he was coming over.” Carissa laughed.

  “Give him the benefit of the doubt. You know, like you told me to do with Garrick. Jamison’s not going to let you down. But you have to give him the chance first.”

  “Okay. I’ll think about it.” The coffee finished brewing, and the rousing scent filled the kitchen. “Talk to you later.”

  They ended their call, and Carissa fixed herself a cup of coffee and brought it to the bedroom. She’d gulp down the caffeine while squeezing into her running gear. The energy from the coffee would help her get at least a good mile in before he arrived.

  Chapter 8

  “Who are you?” an elderly man with bushy, dark-gray eyebrows called over the railing at Jamison as he reached Carissa’s door. She’d mentioned the man living above her was extremely nosy.

  “Hello. You must be Mr. Buschmann. I’m Jamison Croft.” He craned his neck to look up at the man and gave him a welcoming smile. Nosy or not, he was her neighbor.

  “You here to see Carissa?” The man gripped the railing and leaned a little farther over.

  “Yes.”

  “She’s not there. She went for a run about half an hour ago., Isn’t back yet.”

  Well, at least Jamison didn’t have to worry that no one was looking out for her when he wasn’t around.

  “Do you know how long she runs for?” The man probably had a plethora of information.

  “Long enough,” the man sniffled, looking annoyed.

  “I’m here. I’m here,” Carissa called, running up the steps. “Hello, Mr. Buschmann.” She waved at him, but Jamison could see the effort she put into being pleasant with the man.

  “Hmmph.” The man sniffled again and turned away from the railing. His door closed a moment later.

  “Old bugger.” Carissa shook her head. “Hi!” She gave Jamison a brilliant smile.

  “Hi?” He looked her over. With her red hair pulled up into a messy bun, her bright-red ears were exposed. Her nose and cheeks were equally crimson. The running pants and jacket couldn’t have given her much protection against the winter air. “It’s not even twenty degrees outside. What were you doing?”

  Her smile dropped, but she didn’t respond. She pulled her key from inside her jacket and opened the door to her apartment.

  “I went for a run, like I do every day,” she said once they were inside and behind the closed door.

  “You aren’t even wearing earmuffs, or gloves!” He couldn’t believe the intelligent woman before him wasn’t even wearing gloves.

  Her lips screwed up into a wry pout, and her fingers flexed at her sides. “Are you mad at me already? You just got here.”

  He sighed. “I’m not mad, Carissa. I don’t understand why you won’t take care of yourself. I’ll bet if I open your fridge, I won’t find much in there, and if I ask, you’ll tell me you didn’t have time for lunch today either, and now, here you are, half frozen in front of me.”

  She wrung her hands, and a drop of sweat made its way down her temple. The flush on her cheeks deepened under his stare.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  His heart swelled. She didn’t argue with him or try to defend her stance; she simply accepted his disappointment. And she’d called him Daddy with no provocation from him.

  “I wish you’d told me you like to go for a run. We could have found somewhere warmer for you to do it. There are a lot of gyms around here—”

  “I like running outside.” A small pout made its way to her lips, and he found the sight too adorable to chastise.

  “I get that, but it’s too cold outside. When it’s this cold, I want you running inside where it’s warm and well-lit. I’ll get you a membership at any club you want tomorrow, but, until then, no more running outside.”

  She pinched her lips together, probably trying to think it through. It was no small thing he asked of her. But submitting to her daddy wouldn’t always be easy.

  “Fine.” She turned on her heel away from him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her back around.

  “No. Fine isn’t an answer. I hate that word, actually. No more saying fine, understand me, Carissa-girl?”

  She looked ready to rip her arm from his grasp and stomp her way out of the r
oom.

  “I get it,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  She huffed. “I understand, Daddy.”

  “Better. Now.” He released her arm. “About this run. You knew I was coming over. Why didn’t you have your run earlier this morning?”

  “I slept in.” She gave a carefree shrug. “I only planned to take a short run,” she explained. “It felt good, so I kept going. I’ll be out of the shower in two minutes, and I’ll just throw my hair into a ponytail. Unless we’re going out, then it might take a little longer.”

  “I thought we’d stay in.” He held up the small shopping bag so she could see it. “I have a present for you, but not until you’re all clean.”

  She eyed the bag with a small smile playing at her lips. She wanted to grab it, he could tell, but she managed to control herself. Even went so far as to put a bored look on her face. But he wasn’t buying it. She wanted to know what was in his bag.

  He waved her off. “All clean, and I’ll be right there to be sure you didn’t miss any soapsuds in your hair, Carissa-girl.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” She hopped around and ran off down the hall to the bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of the door slamming and the water starting up right away. His little girl had no patience, which was fine for him at that moment—he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her, either.

  After following the aroma of burnt coffee to the kitchen, he turned off the machine that had begun to burn the last remains of coffee in the pot and headed to the bathroom.

  She was humming a tune he didn’t recognize when he entered the small bathroom. Carissa wasn’t much for fancy decorations, which was only one more thing he adored about her. Simplicity rang through her entire apartment: a small basket sat on top of the toilet tank with some washroom essentials, two bathroom rugs, and a soft lavender shower curtain to match. A hair dryer hung off the side of the counter, and a flat iron lay on the sink—unplugged, he was relieved to see.

  “You all washed up?” he asked, closing the door to keep the room from getting cold. The mirror was steamed up from the shower.