The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

by J. A. Huss

  “Back in Del Mar?” I ask, happy that she’s here. That some small bit of Pax is so close to me again. But confused. So utterly confused.

  “No, dear. We both know you came to see me at Belmont a while back. I don’t recall exactly when it was, but I never forget a face. Especially one as beautiful as yours.”

  “Oh,” I say, letting go of my coat. “Well, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Not until you’ve heard the whole story.”

  “Story?” What is she talking about?

  “Of why you’re here. Why all this is happening. And what we might do about it.”

  “We?” I ask. “As in, you and me?”

  “Yes, we, Cynthia.”

  “Cinderella.”

  “Oh, I know, dear. I just want to smile every time I say your real name, and what I have to tell you isn’t anything to smile about. So Cynthia it is. Until all this is over, at least.”

  “Oh, God,” I squeak. “It’s Pax? He’s dead? They killed him? That last job?”

  “No, no, no,” she says, coming within arm’s reach, so she can pat my shoulder. “He’s back from that. He’s looking for you, actually. But of course, he got drunk last night and told his friends who you really are and now I’m just not sure what to do. So I came here. To talk to you and see if we can’t come up with some kind of understanding.”

  “Fuck,” I say, forgetting who I’m talking to for a moment.

  “Right. You’re going to have to deal with that, of course. The next time you see him. But I’m here about something else entirely.”

  “What?” I ask, a chill riding up my spine. The kind of chill you get when you’re about to hear bad news. “Why me? What could I possibly tell you?”

  “Those silver envelopes. You said you’d never seen one before.”

  “I hadn’t,” I say. “Not until that day with you at the track.”

  “Think back, Cynthia. Never? Are you sure?”

  I shrug. “I don’t remember them. But then again, I was never on the lookout.”

  “Your sisters? They never got one?” She cocks her head at me, like she might think I’m lying. But I’m not lying.

  “Not that I saw. Why?”

  “I think we should take this conversation inside. Have a hot cup of tea. Some scones I brought with me from the bakery down the road. Something soothing.”

  Just picturing this makes me frown. “My mom used to do that when she had to break bad news to me and my brother and sisters. She’d bake all day, or make a big roast, something huge and delicious for dinner or dessert. And then she’d say, ‘You’re not getting money for that trip, Belle. Your father does not approve.’ Or, ‘There is no new car in your future, Ariel. So put that illegal hacking site aside and get a real job.’ So this must be your version of parental guidance night if you’re trying to feed me tea and scones just to have a talk.”

  She smiles, like she’s picturing my family dinner. “I think I will love your mother when we finally meet.”

  “I think you will too. If…” I say. “If you ever get to meet her.”

  Mariel pats my hand and then nods her head towards the cottage. “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s too cold and damp up here in the north. And I don’t approve of your rustic accommodations, Cynthia. You’re going to be in a five-star resort this afternoon. I’m not against roughing it, sweetie. But this is going too far. Your parents would never forgive me if I let you stay out here for one more second.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Paxton

  Present Day - Mr. Perfect’s House

  “And that’s the last time I saw her. Well,” I amend, starting to sober up, “the last time I talked to her too. I went back home yesterday after our meeting at Corporate’s house—”

  “That was two weeks ago, Pax,” Perfect says. “You’ve been drunk on mint juleps for two fucking weeks?”

  But I wave him off. “Yesterday, two weeks ago… same thing. Once I figured out who she was I was gonna go home and confront her. But she wasn’t at my house when I got there. So I drove to her trailer and it was empty. She ran, man. She picked up and ran.” I sit down, my head in my hands. “Because I left her there. Just a fucking note, man. Saying I’d be back and to stay put. And now she’s fucking gone. It took me weeks to take care of all that Corporate shit and she was like, ‘Fuck you, dude. I’m outta here!’” I look up at Mac and Five, who are both staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Do you think you can call Oliver and ask him where she is?”

  “Is he fucking serious right now?” Five practically growls at Mac. “You do realize I’ve know this girl since she was fucking born?” He’s looking at me now. “And if you ever talk about fucking her again, Oliver and I will both kick your ass to—”

  “I love her, OK? I love her. You guys are just gonna have to accept that she’s mine now.”

  “Fuck that,” Five says. “If you were fucking my baby sister, I’d kick your ass into next year. No,” he says, pacing the room as he rubs his chin. “I’d blow your fucking head off with a shotgun.”

  Perfect rolls his eyes and mouths drama to me.

  “Better yet,” Five continues, “cut your goddamned balls off. Or your dick. I’d like to see you fuck anyone else’s baby sister after that.”

  I let out a long exhale. “What’s done is done,” I say. “It can’t be undone. I just need you to find her for me. Call Oliver’s parents’ house. Or…” I get excited with this idea. “Ariel! Yeah, Ariel will know where she is.”

  “Oh”—Five laughs—“you’re gonna undo it all right.” He stops pacing and points his finger at me. “You’re gonna break up with her, that’s what you’re gonna do. Hopefully she’s gone and won’t ever bother with you again. But if she does show up, you’re gonna cut all ties, send her ass back home to Colorado, and wash your hands. Do you hear me?”

  I stop to think for a minute. “The Little Mermaid. Ariel is named after the Little Mermaid. Which princess is Belle?” I suddenly have a need to know all the Disney princesses. So I take out my phone and start to look it up.

  “You know, Pax,” Perfect says, ignoring my question.

  “Beauty and the Beast!” I say, so proud of my skills.

  “You’re the next one they’re gonna fuck with, right?” Perfect continues. “If Cindy’s around when that happens, she might—”

  “I’ll kill you,” Five says. “Dead. If anything happens to Cindy Shrike, I will kill you. You’re gonna forget you ever heard of a girl named Cinderella.”

  I want to object, but Perfect’s words are ringing in my head. Could they use her against me?

  Could? Could? More like, they absolutely will.

  I get up, walk to Perfect’s bar, make myself a bourbon, and drink it down in one gulp.

  “Yeah,” Five says, practically spitting the word out. “And if I see you drink another mint julep, I will kick your ass just for being so goddamned wussy. You understand me, Mysterious? Am I making myself clear?”

  I pour another drink, down that one too, and then let the burning sensation in my gut numb me from the waist up.

  “Oliver can’t ever know about this,” Five says. “Thanksgiving is coming up next month, so she’ll come home for that and I’ll take her aside and explain things. OK? You don’t tell her shit if you find her. Not one word. If you have to say something, then you just say, ‘Sorry, I’m an asshole. I cheated on you in—’”

  “I’m not telling her that, you dick. Fuck, no.”

  “Oh, I don’t give one fancy fuck what you think you’re gonna tell her. I’m the one with access. So I’m gonna find her and I’ll be the one to tell her you’re a cheating motherfucker and she will never look at you twice again.”

  “Five,” Perfect interrupts. “You’re not doing any of that, OK? Just calm down.” He turns to me. “Pax, you have to see you need to let her go, right? You can’t take the chance that our enemies might drag her into this shit we’re in.” His eyes plead with me. “Right?”

  I ju
st stare at him.

  “Right? You don’t want to get her hurt? I know you don’t. So you’re gonna do the right thing. No one,” he says, looking over at Five, “is gonna babysit you. We’re not gonna call her or do any of those things Five just said. Because you’re a grown-ass man, for fuck’s sake. And you know you have to do the right thing. So leave her alone. Pretend this never happened, and if you do bump into her, you say, ‘Sorry, Cindy. I’m just not into you.’”

  I’m not saying shit while Perfect talks up his plan. I can’t promise that. If I see her, I’m handcuffing her ass to me and throwing the goddamned key away. That’s what I’m gonna do. Fuck everyone if that happens. We’ll get on that boat in Del Rey and just say, “Show’s over, folks. Nothin’ to see here.” And sail our merry asses around the world—or at least to another port so I can pick up a suitable yacht—and just say fuck everyone.

  I look up at Five and he’s got a pained expression on his face. I’m just about to lie and say, “Yup, that’s a great plan, Perfect,” when Five opens his mouth and says… “What if they already have her?”

  “Who?” I ask. “Liam? Fucking Lucio Gori Senior? Why would they even know about her?”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Perfect says. And then he looks at Five like he’s sending him a secret message.

  “What the fuck was that look for?”

  “What look?” Perfect says.

  “Don’t play stupid with me,” I say. “You just shot Five a look.”

  “I’m just saying, there’s a lot of shit going down right now,” Five says. “And a missing Shrike girl isn’t something I can just pretend not to know. You have to understand that, right?”

  “Five—” Perfect says.

  “What the fuck are you saying?”

  “Pax, man,” Five says. “If she’s missing, then I gotta call home.”

  “Home?” Perfect is scrunching up his face like this is a very bad idea.

  I agree. “You’re calling Oliver?” I laugh. “You fucking piece of shit.”

  “No,” Five says. “I’m calling his fucking father.”

  “Cindy’s father?” I scrub my hand down my face. “You can’t do that.”

  “The hell I can’t. I will get my ass beat if I don’t report in on this one, Pax. Sorry, there is no way I’m not—”

  “Five,” Perfect says again, only this time he raises his voice. Scout starts barking and jumping around, the agitation in the room clearly palpable. “You’re Mr. Shut-the-fuck-up. And now, all of a sudden, you’re eager to share? No. I don’t fucking think so.”

  I’m opening my mouth to agree when my phone vibrates in my pants.

  I look up at Perfect, then Five, and then his phone vibrates in his hand. I pull mine out as Five studies his screen.

  “Who is it?” Perfect asks.

  “My mother.”

  “Oliver,” Five says.

  We just stand there looking at each other for a few seconds, both phones going off simultaneously.

  “Well, don’t just stand there looking stupid, answer them!” Perfect says. Scout barks her agreement.

  “Hello?” Five and I say together.

  “Paxton,” my mother says. “I need you to come to the Hundred Palms Resort.”

  “What? Mom, I’m a little busy right now. Can I call you back…” I look outside and realize it’s morning. I was talking all night long. “After lunch or something?”

  “No, Paxton, you may not.” Her voice has a hard edge to it, like she’s pulling the mom card on me. “I’m here,” she says, “with Cynthia, Nolan, and that sweet girl, Ivy. And we require the presence of all the Misters, with their respective Mrs., for an emergency meeting.”

  “You have Cindy? Hey,” I say, looking at Perfect. “I found her. Cindy’s with my mom and Romantic at his desert armpit of a resort.”

  “Well,” Five says, pocketing his phone. “That was Oliver looking for Ariel.”

  “She’s in the mountains with Ellie,” Perfect says. “Be back this afternoon.”

  “Told him that. But he’s on his way here because I called a private meeting.”

  “Mom,” I say. “We’ll be there later today. But… is she OK?”

  “She’s fine, Paxton.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “No.”

  “No? Well, why the fuck not?”

  “Because your personal issues need to be put aside until we discuss the job you just finished.” How the fuck did she know about that? “Call your Corporate friend and tell him to drive down to the resort as well. And we need his Mrs. She’s definitely a player.”

  “Victoria?”

  “What?” Five asks. “What’s going on?” He grabs the phone from my hand and says, “Hello? This is Five.” But he just looks down at my phone and tosses it back. “She hung up.”

  “She’s called a Mister meeting at Nolan’s resort.”

  “She can’t call a Mister meeting,” Five says. “She’s not a Mister.”

  “Neither are you, dumbass. But if you’d like to call my mother back and explain that to her, be my guest. I’m going. Cindy’s there and I need to talk to her.”

  “We’ll, we’re not going anywhere until Oliver gets here.”

  “And the girls need to get back from the mountains,” Perfect says. “Maybe I should take the helicopter and pick them up?”

  “Good idea,” I say. “I’ll take the Mister jet out to California, while you guys take care of your end.” I’m anxious to get the fuck out of Colorado.

  “I don’t think so—”

  “Fuck you,” I tell Five. “Who the fuck made you the boss of this operation? This is my issue, remember? ‘You’re next, Mysterious,’” I say in a fake Five voice. “OK, I’m next. Clearly. So if everything that’s happening is due to it being my turn, then I’m in charge. And I say Perfect gets Ellie and Ariel, you get Oliver, and we meet in the desert. I’ll call Corporate and let him know his presence is required.”

  I stop and wait for Perfect to object, but he just throws up his hands at Five and says, “We’ll do it his way. Can’t hurt.”

  But Five narrows his eyes at me. He’s not used to being challenged in these matters. Even Corporate deferred to him during that last episode of bullshit. He points a finger at me. “I’m telling Oliver the minute I see him.”

  “You do that.”

  “And then the two of you can sort it out.”

  “We most definitely will.”

  Five turns to leave, opens the front door, then stops and turns to look over his shoulder. “And by the way, you’re welcome for carting your drunk ass all over Colorado in a helicopter last night. Which I’m taking with me.”

  He walks out, slamming the door behind him. Scout barks at that. I look at Perfect.

  “I’m gonna have to bring the dog,” he says. “And Five isn’t gonna like that one bit.”

  We laugh, picturing Perfect’s giant Old English sheepdog on Five’s fancy jet, and say, “Fucking Five,” at the same time.

  “I’ll see you there,” I say, then help myself to some car keys from the table near the garage door. “I’m gonna borrow your car.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Cindy

  I am looking out the window of Nolan’s second-floor office, staring at the long, palm tree-lined driveway leading up to the resort, desperately willing Paxton to appear. I know he landed—the pilot called, per Nolan’s instructions, as soon as he left the tarmac in the limo—but that feels like an eternity ago.

  My heart still hurts, although Mariel has eased it a bit since this morning. It has been quite the messed-up day on my end. All the things she told me. I just don’t know what to make of it. But it doesn’t matter. We have other issues to deal with first. Namely, the people responsible for the whole Mr. Corporate fuck-up, as it’s now being called by Nolan, who was very pissed off he was not informed of what was happening, since there was a Mr. Romantic fuck-up last summer and a less dangerous, but equally suspicious, Mr. Perfect fuck-u
p about a year ago.

  Ivy explained them both to me. And Jesus. I don’t think I can look at Nolan Delaney the same way after the things she disclosed under the Mrs. to the Misters pact I had to swear.

  Am I a Mrs. to a Mister?

  “Knock, knock,” Mariel says behind me.

  I turn and find her standing in the doorway with a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with dark hair and the most mesmerizing violet eyes I’ve ever seen. “Hey,” I say, uncertain what to make of her. I know who she is just from the description Mariel gave me earlier. Victoria Arias, aka Mrs. Corporate.

  “Cynthia,” Mariel says. “This is Victoria, Weston Conrad’s better half.”

  The things Mariel disclosed about her… It all renders me speechless. I was hoping to see Pax before having to meet her, just to give me a bit of courage. I mean… how to process it? I just don’t know. But I suck it up and walk over to her, extending my hand. “Nice to meet you, Victoria. I’m Cynthia. I mean”—I laugh—“Cinderella. Oliver’s sister. And…” I shrug. “Pax’s girlfriend. Maybe.”

  “You can call me Tori,” she purrs in a sultry, sexy voice.

  “Oh, OK. Well, you can call me Cindy. Everyone does. Except…” I nod my head to Mariel.

  “I’ll just leave you girls,” Mariel says. “So you can get to know each other better in private.”

  Mariel leaves, closing the door behind her.

  And then… shit. What to say?

  Victoria walks forward and takes a seat in a chair, straightening out her lavender top as she does it, then crosses her racehorse legs that spill out of her micro-mini skirt and folds her hands in her lap. “She said you wanted to talk to me?” Tori looks up at me expectantly, full of fire and defiance.

  “I do,” I say, taking a seat next to her in the other chair. Jesus. Does she have to be so beautiful? And sophisticated in her fluttery blouse and giant diamond ring?

  I resist the urge to look down at my gaudy silver bracelets clinking on my wrist. Or my old, worn Frye boots that most definitely make me look like a cowgirl hick, since I’m wearing them with a red flirty skirt and black and white tank top that says, Cute but Psycho across my giant tits.