Fast & Hard (The Fast 1)

“I think you’re right. Despite your best attempts, Mr. Gibbes, the tide is turning on your bad boy image. People really liked all the photos of you signing their fan mail. UG Petroleum is happy with you and we have a new potential sponsor to wine and dine in China.”

“I’d rather dine on you.” We’ve got five hours or so left before we land in London, refuel, pick up Matty and Jack, then head to China. Five hours that could be put to much better use than lining the Celeritas coffers with more money.

“Bluewater Tech, a new computer processor company, I believe,” she ignores me.

The sliding wood door to the flight crew cabin opens and the attendant asks if we’ll be needing anything.

“Just privacy, please,” I smile at her.

“Of course, I’ll dim the cabin lights for the evening, sir,” and she sets out to show Mallory where the minibar and snacks are before pulling out pillows and blankets for the evening and disappears into the forward cabin. Moments later the lights drop and there’s only a glow from safety lights and Mallory’s laptop.

She takes a deep breath, puts her closed laptop on the worktable in front of my recliner, and squints at me, “Ok, let’s get it over with.”

Get it over with? That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement for my sexual prowess. “There were no complaints earlier,” I scoff at her. “I recall a whole lot of begging, in fact.”

Her eyes press shut but she has nothing to be embarrassed about. It was hot as hell. Having this strong, stubborn fighter come apart for me, give herself over to me, I feel like I’m on the top step of the podium again. And it’s been a long time since I’ve been there.

“No, I meant we need to discuss logistics. Let’s get that over with.”

“Ugh,” I groan and lean my head back into my recliner. Hot or not, she still harbors a bit of an inner harpy dying to be let out and talk about feelings.

“I want this Lennox, but it can’t interfere with my job.”

“Ok.” I appreciate that she came right out with what she wants instead of making me chase her and guess what’s in her head. I want this to continue, too. Problem solved.

“I mean it, this job is important to me. No one can know.”

“Why?” I scowl. Who the hell cares? I haven’t talked to Jack or Matty but I’m sure they both already know. They aren’t idiots and I’m not lying to them.

“It’ll be career suicide if anyone finds out I’m sleeping with my clients, Lennox! I want to open my own firm and I need this job. I need the contacts, the experience on my resume. I already have one strike against me.” She’s talking a mile a minute and I can hear it in her voice how important this is to her. After meeting her abominable parents, I get it.

“What strike? The two ghouls who raised you?”

“No, the last athlete I worked with,” she grimaces and my jaw ticks. I don’t want to hear about her sleeping with some other dude, some Brazilian soccer player or Australian rugby pro. I need to stop thinking about it.

“The guy you got rid of?”

“No. I told you I’ve never done this before,” she waves between us. I’m more relieved than I have a right to be.

She pauses a minute, fidgeting with the hem of my tee-shirt she’s wearing. She does that a lot when she’s nervous. The hotel concierge was able to deliver jeans and other necessities for her earlier, but she kept my shirt on. Said it was ‘comfy,’ as if I’ve never had chicks steal my shirts before and don’t know what that’s about. She still has my team jacket from Bahrain, too, now that I think about it.

“So, there was this NBA player,” she starts, staring down at the cream carpet of the jet.

“Jesus, do I want to hear this?” I groan.

She tells me the story about this guy, some clown who racked up a DUI and was fighting on the court. Super talented but throwing it all away. She got called in when he was picked up on drug charges. Worked with him for about six months but it kept getting worse.

“We were on our way to an event but he said we had to make a stop first,” she continues. “Turns out, the stop was a white supremacy rally.”

“What.”

“Oh, but it gets worse. Unbeknownst to me, he bought a bunch of coke while we were there. We were filmed leaving this awful, racist rally and then we got pulled over by the cops. He was driving like a crazy person and

blew a stop sign.”

Now I’m not just shocked, but pissed. This piece of shit was high on cocaine and driving with Mallory in the car?

“The police found the drugs in the car and, in the press, he claimed they were mine, that I had dragged him to the white supremacy group, that it was all my idea.”