Undercover Bromance

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  “It’s not your fault, Jessica.”

  “I need this job,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry. You can’t tell anyone.”

  Royce slammed the phone down. “Shut up, Jessica.”

  With a gulp, she backed away from him.

  Royce glared at Liv. “You’ll never work in this business again, Olivia. You hear me? You’re finished!”

  “You’ve made that threat a lot, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t have to make threats. I just make promises.”

  “So do I. And I promise that if you touch her again, you’ll be pissing blood for the rest of your life.”

  Royce’s face flashed beet red, and Liv had the sudden image of a volcano about to spew its lava. Ew. No. She didn’t want to think about Royce spewing anything.

  He suddenly nodded at someone or something behind her. “Get her out of here.”

  “Sorry about this, Liv.” A clammy hand wrapped around her elbow. Geoff, one of the security guards.

  Liv yanked her arm free. “Do you know what he’s doing in here?”

  “I just do what I’m told,” Geoff said, pulling on her arm again.

  “Of course. Just like a real man.”

  Liv spun around—and nearly face-planted into the massive chest of Royce’s other security guard, Sam. She lifted her gaze from his thick neck to his pockmarked cheeks until it collided with his ice-blue eyes.

  Liv had always assumed the tank-size goons were mostly for show, because nothing said I’m a big, important man like bodyguards. But apparently Royce also used them to intimidate the newly fired. Like now.

  Sam wrapped a beefy hand around her upper arm. “Let’s go.”

  Liv snatched her arm free. “Touch me again and you lose a testicle.”

  “Make sure you watch her clean out her locker,” Royce said. “If she tries to steal anything, call the cops.”

  Liv whipped around. “That’s rich coming from a guy whose about to release a cookbook full of other people’s recipes.”

  Royce’s eyes bulged so far out of his head Liv feared he was having a seizure. “Get her the fuck out of my sight!”

  Sam pulled her out of the office.

  “You’re not very attached to your balls, are you?” Liv snapped, once again trying to pull from his grasp. This time he simply held on tighter.

  At the end of the hallway, Geoff held open the elevator doors, his face ashen as he stared everywhere but at Liv. Sam had less shame. He all but tossed Liv inside.

  She rubbed her arm where he’d grabbed her. “How much does he pay you to cover for him?”

  They ignored her and instead took up matching wide-legged poses in front of her as if they were afraid she’d bolt as soon as they reached the ground floor.

  “Do you know what I just saw in there? What he was doing to her?”

  The elevator beeped as they reached the second floor.

  “You work for a predator. Who knows what the hell he’s doing to her in there!”

  With a soft shake and the groan of metal on metal, the elevator reached the ground floor. The doors slid open, and the sudden silence in the kitchen was as pronounced as the blare of a live band at the Grand Ole Opry. Sam and Geoff stepped sideways to hold the doors open and allow her to exit.

  In her year of employment there, Liv had watched a half dozen other employees make this particular walk of shame, and now that it was her turn, she felt guilty for all the times she’d behaved exactly as her fellow prisoners did now. The averted gazes. The there but for the grace of God exhale as she passed. The stink of nervous flop sweat. Liv had smelled the odor often enough in her time there, and now she was the one who stank.

  Or maybe it was the goons. They reeked of strong-armed intimidation and also maybe a salami sandwich. Which was a surprise because Liv had always assumed that Royce kept them locked in the basement with nothing but protein powder to snort in between bench pressing each other and snarling incoherently.

  Riya was the only one who risked the malodorous contagion by daring to speak to her. “I’m sorry,” she said, hugging Liv.

  “I’ll survive,” Liv said, giving her a tight squeeze. She pressed her lips close to Riya’s ears and lowered her voice. “Be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sam gave a none-too-gentle shove against her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  “We’ll talk soon,” Liv said to Riya. Her friend nodded, brown eyes pinched in concern, and Liv was struck with a sudden sickening thought. What if Riya was next on Royce’s list of victims? What if she’d already been the target of his harassment? Liv glanced quickly around the kitchen at all the faces so obviously turned away from her. How many women in that room had he abused? How many were hiding a dark secret like Jessica’s?

  And worst of all, how many women was Liv leaving behind to face Royce alone?

  Liv stomped to the locker room, Sam and Geoff close behind. Two women were huddled in a corner of the locker room, talking in low, hushed tones when they walked in. The women immediately shut up and scurried out, their eyes glued to the tile floor. One might have even covered her nose.

  “You may retrieve your personal belongings, but everything else stays here,” Sam said. “You are also reminded that you signed a nondisclosure agreement when you began working here.”

  Geoff cleared his throat. “A copy of your NDA can be provided to you should you need one.”

  Liv tapped her temple. “No need. Got it all saved up here. What happens at Savoy stays at Savoy, right?”

  “Any violation of this agreement will result in civil litigation,” Sam said.

  “You should be careful. Those are big words for you,” Liv said, shoving toiletries in her duffel bag. She held up her deodorant. “Either one of you want this? It’s clinical strength.”

  Sam barely blinked. “Any personal items left in your locker will be disposed of.”

  Liv shrugged and dropped the deodorant in her bag. “I was trying to be discreet, but I guess I need to be more direct. You stink.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow over his ice-blue eyes. Geoff turned his head toward his armpit.

  “Probably the steroids. That shit will mess you up.” Liv shut her locker and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. “It’s been fun, boys. Now why don’t you both fuck off and die?”

  Five minutes later, she stormed into the night. Her bag banged against her thigh with every angry step that took her from the brightly lit alley behind Savoy to the corner. Her car was in a parking garage two blocks away because Royce was too cheap to provide his employees with on-site parking. There was more than enough room behind the building, but oh no. Only Royce got to park there. So instead she and every other person who worked for him faced a nightly game of dodge-the-douchebags on Broadway. At least she could leave this bullshit behind. Her next job was going to be as far away from Honky Tonk Row as possible.

  The sour taste of panic stung the back of her throat. Her next job . . . Wait. Would there be a next job? Holy shit, this was really happening. She’d been fired. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts connected by a single underlying question. What the hell do I do know?

  Call the cops? He’d assaulted Jessica. She’d asked him to stop. Begged him. And he’d kissed her anyway. Rage returned and turned Liv’s blood to liquid fire. Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag so hard that the fake leather squeaked in protest. Men like Royce Preston thought they could get away with anything, didn’t they? And why? Because they did get away with it. They got off on the power.

  She needed to talk to someone, but she couldn’t. And not just because of the NDA but because Jessica didn’t want anyone to know. What the hell was she supposed to tell people about why she was fired? Everyone was going to think she couldn’t hack it, that she was just another flameout in the burning hellfire of Royce’s kitchen. After everything she’d en
dured and worked for, her career would now bear the permanent stain of this.

  Of course, that didn’t matter compared to what Jessica was going through. Why wouldn’t Jessica let her report him? Why would she even want to stay working for an abusive asshole?

  She stopped at the corner to wait for the light to change. Fucking men.

  “Liv?”

  She turned around at the sound of her name.

  Of course.

  Braden-Fucking-Mack.

  * * *

  * * *

  “What the hell do you want?”

  Of all the things he expected Liv to say when he saw her at the corner, it hadn’t been that. He’d been heading back to his club because it was only a few blocks away and because the thought of going home to his empty house was too depressing to consider, and then he saw her. Hoofing up the street like her bag was on fire.

  The light changed with a beep, and Liv whipped back around to cross the street. She didn’t even wait for him to answer her question.

  “Liv, wait.” He jogged to catch up with her.

  She glared over her shoulder in the crosswalk. “Are you following me?”

  “No. I’m going to my club. What are you doing?”

  “Going home.”

  Dread was a sour taste in his mouth. “What happened?”

  Liv looked around. “Where’s your date? Did you stuff her in your trunk or something?”

  “She went home.”

  “Lucky her.”

  They’d reached the other sidewalk by now, and she obviously had no intention of slowing to talk to him.

  “Liv, wait. Come on.” He grabbed her arm.

  She whipped around swinging. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

  Mack held up his hands, truce-like. “I’m sorry. Jesus, just wait. Talk to me. What happened?”

  She scoffed. “What do you think happened?”

  “Oh, shit. You got fired? Just now?”

  “No, yesterday. I just decided to come in and work today for free because I knew you were going to be there and wanted to make something extra special to throw in your date’s lap.”

  He probably deserved the sarcasm. She turned again and started walking.

  “Liv, wait.” He was saying that a lot tonight. “Jesus, let me do something. Come to my club. I’ll get you a drink.”

  “No thanks. You’ve done enough.”

  Gavin was going to kill him over this. “At least let me walk you to your car.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not safe this late at night for you to walk to your car alone.”

  Liv stopped in the middle of the street and faced him head-on. “Are you kidding me right now?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, because she plowed ahead. “I don’t need you. I’ve been walking into that parking garage by myself for a year now. So why don’t you run along and do whatever it is you do when you’re not spending a thousand dollars on a stupid cupcake.”

  “Liv, I’m sorry.”

  She whipped around again, and this time it hit him. He could fix this.

  “Wait.”

  She groaned. “What?”

  He jogged to get in front of her and started walking backward. He’d be lucky if he didn’t wipe out. “I’ll hire you.”

  Liv stopped so fast that her bag fell off her shoulder. There was a pause, and then she tipped her head back and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I am not going to work for you.” She hoisted her bag back onto her shoulder. “Get out of my way.”

  He slid left when she slid right.

  “Liv, I feel terrible about this. Please—”

  She shoved him sideways, and for the second time that night, he watched a woman storm away from him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The last thing Mack wanted to do the next morning was face the guys at a damn book club meeting, especially at Gavin’s house. But if he didn’t show up, they’d just hound him with text messages and obscene gifs. There was no avoiding it. So just before noon, he parked in front of Gavin’s house, grabbed his book and the pizza box, and trudged up the porch steps to bang on the front door.

  A boisterous bark from inside greeted him seconds before the door swung open. Gavin’s wife, Thea, smiled and held back their dog, a golden retriever named Butter Ball.

  “Hey,” she breathed. “Come in.”

  Mack held back for a split second, studying her face for any signs that she was going to pound him for what happened with Liv last night. When no signs of violence emerged, he bent and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Hey, Thea. Thanks for having us.”

  “Of course. The guys are all out back.”

  “Where are the girls?” Gavin and Thea had twin daughters, Ava and Amelia, who had recently turned four.

  “Napping, thank God,” Thea laughed. “They almost never do anymore, but Gavin wore them out this morning teaching them how to hit a curve ball.”

  The picture that painted—of domestic bliss and family—brought a pang to his chest that soured his mood even further. Gretchen could have been the one he shared that with. He was sure of it.

  Mack carried his pizza through the living room to a set of French doors leading to Gavin’s backyard. They opened to a covered brick patio, which is where he found them—Malcolm, Del, Derek, Gavin, and the Russian.

  Gavin looked over his shoulder at the sound of the door. “Dude, you’re late,” he said over a mouthful of what looked like a grilled chicken sandwich. During the season, he tended to eat as healthy as possible. Which also pissed Mack off. Because he wanted to indulge in some fucking pizza and beer.

  Mack dropped the pizza box on the patio table and plunged his hand into the pocket of his shorts. He withdrew the five hundred dollars he owed Del and shoved it at him.

  Del wiped a napkin across his face. “What’s this?” he asked, wary and curious at once.

  “What do you think it is? You won the fucking bet.”

  The guys got quiet for a moment.

  Del gathered the money. “So . . . you and Gretchen?”

  “Congratulations,” Mack grumbled. “I think I got dumped last night. Happy?”

  Malcolm cleared his throat. “You think you got dumped?”

  “I swear I’m not making fun of you,” Gavin said slowly, “but how does one not know if he got dumped or not?”

  Mack tossed his hands in the air. “Because I’ve never fucking been dumped before, okay?”

  This time, the silence was followed by a burst of collective guffaws that vibrated windows and shook the table. Gavin laughed so hard he fell forward onto his arm on the table.

  “Yeah, real fucking funny, assholes,” Mack said, yanking a chair away from the table so he could slump into it.

  Del clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man, but damn. Welcome to the real world, Mack. How’s it feel?”

  “Like shit, thank you very much.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. One minute things were fine, and the next, Liv dropped the stupid cupcake, and then Gretchen was backing away from me with some lame excuse—”

  “W-w-wait,” Gavin interrupted, his stammer revealing his sudden tension. “What did you just say about Liv? What does she have to do with any of this?”

  Oh shit. That’s why Thea hadn’t mentioned anything about it when he’d arrived. She and Gavin didn’t know. Shit. Mack swallowed hard and looked around the room. “She, uh, she didn’t tell you guys?”

  “No,” Gavin said. “She didn’t. And you have about thirty seconds to start from the beginning, or getting dumped is going to be the least of your worries.”

  Mack gulped. “She, uh . . . she got fired last night.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Mack had faced some intimidating p
eople in his life, but Thea Scott would go down as one of the scariest. She stood barely five three and weighed less than one of his legs, but if she so much as twitched right now, he’d shit himself.

  Gavin had dragged him inside the house to tell her what happened. He gulped again. “I swear to God, Thea, that’s all I know.”

  How the hell was Mack supposed to know that Liv wouldn’t have told her own sister by now that she’d been fired last night? It was almost one o’clock for fuck’s sake. He looked at the other guys for help, but they all suddenly found something super interesting in the carpet or on the walls or in the backyard. Lotta fucking help they were.

  “She said she’s on her way here?” Gavin asked his wife cautiously.

  Thea nodded, arms crossed and jaw clenched.

  “Uncle Mack, come play with us!” Ava and Amelia ran into the room trailed by Butter Ball. Ava threw her arms around Mack’s legs. He hoisted her upside down in the air and tossed her over his shoulder. Ava shrieked in delight. Amelia hopped up and down, screaming, “Me next, me next!”

  Thank God for kids. “Wanna jump on the trampoline?”

  Both girls exclaimed, “Yeah!”

  “Uncle Mack is grounded,” Thea said. “Why don’t you see if one of the other guys will go outside with you.”

  The guys couldn’t move fast enough. They raced en masse toward the back door and collided all at once. Malcolm shoved Derek out of the way. Derek fell to his knees. Del wrestled his hand onto the door handle. The Russian batted it away and managed to throw the door open. All four men fell out in a heap of cowardice. Someone yelled he was bleeding and someone else responded to just run.

  “Start from the beginning,” Thea said as soon as the girls had run out back.

  “I saw her at Savoy. I might have gotten her in trouble with her boss, and then later—”

  Gavin held up a hand. “Might have gotten her in trouble with her boss? What the hell does that mean?”

  “I ordered that thousand-dollar cupcake—”

  Thea made a choking sound. Mack shrugged. “I was trying to impress Gretchen.”

  “Which obviously backfired,” Gavin said.