Enforcer (Seattle Sharks 2)

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“We threw out so much food last time. It’s a waste of our resources.”

“And this has nothing to do with your pet project?” He smiled and tilted his head.

He knew all about my ambitions and how I’d use them to not only keep our company profitable but expand into other areas as well. “Seattle has a need. We can fill it. At least for one day, we can make a dent in those who go hungry on a daily basis.”

“Have you considered the consequences if the new names on the guest list don’t mingle well with the employees and stockholders the event is for? Or perhaps if the stockholders don’t take kindly to their presence?”

A sour taste filled my mouth. Of course, I’d thought about the scenario, but I had enough faith in humanity to push forward. Didn’t mean I hadn’t done my due diligence, though. “I’ve doubled security in case there are any confrontations. But there won’t be. Our name, our brand is about providing the highest quality products and best service to the people who need them. These people need to eat. We’ll have an influx of food that day. It makes sense.”

He rubbed the five o’clock shadow surfacing on his chin. “Your heart never ceases to surprise me. Nor does the tenacity in getting what you want.” He stood and came around the desk to kiss me on the forehead. “Make all the arrangements. I’ll sign off on whatever you need.”

My heart lifted at the idea of all the people who would get to experience a five-star meal and eat their fill. “Thank you.”

He glanced around my desk as if a company check would pop up that needed his signature.

“I already approved it. The three most overcrowded shelters were contacted this morning.”

He chuckled. “Of course. What need of me do you have anymore?”

“Father…”

He shook his head, reigning in his laugh. “You’re my perfect successor. I have no doubt.”

He kissed my head again before leaving, and I slumped back into my chair. Usually, the pride I garnered from making my father proud was something I relished. Today, I couldn’t help but feel it was unmerited.

After all, I’d already crossed off several numbers on my dirty-girl bucket list—#9: Purchase my first sexual paraphernalia (a scary looking red vibrator that, in fact, Jeannine had bought on my behalf so there would be no paper trail) and #3: Watch a M/M porn film (another endeavor Jeannine had been all too happy to join me in. Bailey had been there too, with popcorn and wine and many, many heated breaths)—and I couldn’t stop seeing the circle drawn around #7. It would be completed soon, along with the rest of the list unless Rory changed his mind and didn’t sign the contract.

Number seven teased me with urgency, and yet it was easily the most damning on the list.

How could I be the face of the corporation I loved when all I wanted to be was Rory’s?

“A week and a half and you don’t call or respond to any of my texts—what makes you think you can waltz in here and demand a drink?” Jeannine’s snark didn’t match her smile as I took a seat at the large, wooden bar.

“Drink and a meal, let’s not forget that.”

She shook her head, her normally wild blonde curls tucked into a ponytail. She ran her hands down her immaculate white chef’s jacket. “Depends. Are you willing to sing for your supper?”

“Absolutely,”—I leaned over the bar, lowering my voice so only we could hear—“and boy do I have a song to sing. After a scotch and soda.”

“Tease.” She laughed but immediately poured my favorite drink and slid it in front of me. I unbuttoned my blazer and stretched my arms over my head, rolling my neck in an attempt to ease the tension there. It didn’t work—hadn’t worked the past few days. I’d come to the conclusion I’d never fully relax again until Rory picked up where he left off at my place. The image of him pinning me against the wall in my dining room flashed red hot in my mind, as it had so many times since he’d left me there to take an extremely cold shower. Had to give the man credit, though. He knew how to make me ache in places I never had before.

I glanced around Jeannine’s restaurant—one of three she owned—my eyes hunting for anyone who might take an interest in my anticipated gossip session with my best friend.

The place was slow since it was well past ten p.m., and only a few patrons nursed glasses of red in a booth nestled in the far back corner. Nine’s was a Michelin star winner, and one of the only places Jeannine played head chef at on a regular basis. It was a sweet perk, never needing a reservation in order to get the highly sought after food but she’d been cooking for me since our “family studies” course in middle school.

“You milk that while I throw together your usual.” She nodded toward my drink and disappeared into the kitchen in the back.

I took a sweet sip, enjoying the immediate release I received from the smooth scotch. Well, at least that was something. I closed my eyes, unable to keep the image of Rory from my mind. I’d had a few lovers—discreetly—since college, and I couldn’t understand what it was about Rory that tangled me so badly, especially since we hadn’t even officially had sex yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s taking control over you in a way no else ever has before.

Another sip. I’d never once wanted a man as badly as I did Rory—and I knew it had less to do with his celebrity-athlete status and more to do with the way he took control of the situation, of me, despite my efforts to take the reins. I may have drafted the contract, but he was the one with all the power. The push-pull, paired with how little I truly knew of the man, made it so much more intense.

“Lobster risotto,” Jeannine said as she slid the plate before me, “with a side of you better tell me what the hell went down in the penthouse.”

I smirked, picking up my fork and slowly taking a bite. My eyes rolled back in my head. Jeannine had a direct line to my soul and had found the easiest route through food. The dish practically melted in my mouth. “Perfection. Every. Time.”

“Yes, yes. The deets. Now.” She leaned her elbows on the bar, giving me her undivided attention. Of course, she’d practically made the dirty-girl bucket list for me and made sure I was under strict orders to share every situation which resulted in checking the items off.