Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) (11 page)

His fingers found their way into my hair, and he pulled my face close so I could feel his warm breath whisper across my lips.
 

“Please,” I thought I heard him say softly. Unlike my stubborn mind, my body was quick to respond to his touch, and as my eyes closed, my lips parted. He brushed his mouth across mine once, twice, light brush strokes that set me on fire.
Damn him.

“Say yes.”

I kept quiet instead before moving forward for full contact. His grip on my hair tightened, and my eyes fluttered open.
 

“Shayne.” His voice turned stern, demanding.

“So bossy for a twenty-four-year-old,” I murmured.

“Almost twenty-five.”

I sighed in resignation, and a wide grin took over his face.
 

“Good…that’s good.” He leaned and crushed his mouth against mine, and the irritation I’d felt at his rebuff seeped out of my pores until I could think of nothing but how perfectly his lips moved with mine.
 

Too soon it was over, and he was letting me go before we could build back up to
tear all the clothes off
mode.
 

His thumb brushed gently over my forehead. “Well, would you look at that.”

“What?”

“It actually
does
say ‘gullible dumbass.’” He pressed a quick kiss between my brows and chuckled before moving out of the way of my slap. “I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

I stuck my head out the door and scowled at him. “Will that be before or after your trip to hell?”

He was still laughing as he faced me and walked backward down the hall. When he blew me a kiss, I extended my middle finger, kissed it, and returned his sweet gesture. Then I shut the door before he could see me crack a smile.
 

CHAPTER TEN

Hot Diggity Dog

“GET IN HERE, ya little cocktease,” was the yell that greeted me from down the hall just as I’d sat down at my desk Monday morning. Everyone’s heads swiveled my way, and I had to hold back an eye roll at the realization they must’ve all heard I had a meeting with Ace during my time off.

Nothing was sacred in this place.
 

As I closed in on Val’s office, the sound of something being thrown to the ground made me jump. Then several somethings.
 

Peering through her cracked door, I saw Val flinging large coffee table books off the shelves that lined the left wall of her office. There was a pile in the center of the room that was already littered with books and magazines, and it looked like if she continued on the warpath, the rack of designer shoes that had been sent over was gonna get it next.

“Leave the books alone and no one gets hurt,” I said, walking into the room cautiously with both hands raised, palms out.
 

“So did you seal the deal?” Val asked, not bothering to look my way. Instead, she flipped open the cover of a hardback, eyed it with disgust, and then tossed it onto the floor pile. “Eight inches? Nine?”

I ignored her assumption that I’d slept with a potential client and focused on the bigger problem. Books. On the floor. “Can I ask why the sudden aversion to reading?”

“Spring cleaning,” she muttered, and then her eyes zeroed in on mine. “What, only seven inches? Six and a half? Really, why aren’t you bursting to share?”

Only my boss would think my sex life was any of her business.
Well,
I thought when Nate sprang to mind,
lack thereof, anyway.

“I didn’t sleep with Ace Locke.”

“Bah, of course not. I forgot your pussy is closed for business.”

“It’s not—” I sputtered. “I just don’t sleep with clients or people I work with. That should be a good thing.”

“You’re a pitiful excuse for a matchmaker, you know that? How can you possibly put people together when you wouldn’t know a cock if it slapped you in the face?”

Ew
. “That’s not…really…my thing.”

Val’s hands stilled on a copy of
Humans of New York
, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you mean to tell me I hired a carpet muncher?”

“What? No.” I rubbed my already throbbing forehead. “Look, Val, I’m not a lesbian, and even if I were, you would’ve still hired me because I
am
a great matchmaker. Besides, you can’t go around saying that term. It’s offensive.”

“Well, I suppose with the invention of laser hair removal, the
carpet
part of that statement is a bit outdated.” Val’s lips pursed as she perused the hardback before slamming it shut and dropping it on the floor.

Cringing at the abuse going on, I knelt down and gathered the books into a neat pile. I didn’t know what had set her off this morning, but it was clear I needed to rescue the victims of her wrath.
 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Since you don’t want them, I’ll find a good home—”

“Don’t bother. It’s trash. Trash, trash, trash, trash, trash,” she said, rounding her desk and then flopping on the white-cushioned monstrosity behind it. After taking out a prescription bottle from the top drawer, she shook a few pills into her hand and tossed them back with a diet soda chaser.
 

At least I thought it was diet soda. No telling with her.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at me, or do you plan on telling me some time this century how the date went with Ace?”

“The
meeting
went well… He’s a nice guy, and I think he really does want to meet someone to settle do—”

Snoring from behind the desk cut me off. Then Val shook herself awake.
 

“All I heard was blah blah nice guy blah. Ace is not a
nice guy.
He’s a multimillionaire box-office action star who fucks anything blond and on two legs, and he’ll do wonders for getting our name out there. So tell me you’ve got a list of women who fit the bill.”

“I don’t think that’s what he’s after exactly…”

Val’s heavily mascara’d eyes blinked at me. “And just what the hell does that mean, Shayne?”

“It means I don’t think one of his usual model types is what he wants.”

“Fuck me, this sounds like gibberish.” Val swallowed another couple of pills, without a chaser this time. “Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me he wants a nice, sensible girl like yourself? Hmm? Do you have a golden pussy I don’t know about after all?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I said, throwing my hands up. “There’s nothing golden down there, only cobwebs, like you said.”

“That’s an easily remedied problem. Remind me to get you an appointment with Raphael.”
 

The woman’s attention span was all over the place.
 

“I don’t need your masseuse, Val.”

“He’s a helluva lot more than that. He always gives a happy—”

“Oh my God.” With my hands on my hips, I craned my neck back and forced myself to remember why I’d come in here in the first place. Oh right. Ace. “The thing is…Ace is definitely interested in working with us, but it’s a bit more complicated than he made it out to be.”

“Complicated how?”

“Obviously this stays here, but I think he’s looking for something of the…male variety. In private.”

“Did you say male?”

“I did.”

The only show of surprise on her Botoxed face was the slight arch of a perfectly drawn eyebrow. Then her chair rocked back and her red nails drummed across her desk. She stared me down for so long that I felt a bead of sweat fall down my back. I was used to mouthy Val yelling obscenities, so this mute version had me squirming.
 

When she finally stopped rocking in her chair, she spoke. “You’re telling me Ace Locke prefers hot dogs to tuna.”

My nose wrinkled, but I didn’t bother correcting her or we’d be off on another tangent. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“And he wants it in private, you say. As in no publicity? That’s not part of the arrangement.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that. We weren’t able to get into specifics, but my guess is he’s looking for…um…a cover of sorts.”

“A beard, Shayne, you can say it.”

On an exhale, I nodded. “Yes, a beard.”

After another swig of her drink, she leaned back in her chair again, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Her gaze moved behind me to the mess she’d created. When I cleared my throat after what felt like several long minutes, she held up a finger.
 

Not
that
finger.
 

“Here’s what we do,” she said slowly. “You’ll start going through the database and pulling potentials. I’m thinking at least high C-list. It worked for Katie Holmes, so let’s get someone on one of those Netflix shows. What’s hot right now?” She didn’t pause for an answer before picking up her phone. “I’ll call and set up a meeting with him this week—”

“Val—”

“Let Xander know I’ll need another dress, stat—”

“Val, I—”

“—and to make sure it’s not another angry vagina dress or he’s fired—”

“Val,” I said louder, causing her to stop and glower. “There’s one more thing. I’ll be working with Ace.”

She lowered the phone back to its cradle. “Excuse me?”

Don’t fidget, don’t fidget.
 

“He, uh…said he’d like to work with me directly. I mean, if that’s okay.”

“Told you that, did he?” A fake smile stretched across her skin, and then she muttered, “Cobwebs, my ass.”

Uh oh.

“I’m sure it’s because he knows how busy you are running the company—”
 

“Don’t bother making up an excuse. I can see right through you, and I don’t mean your off-the-Goodwill-rack top.”

Nordstrom Rack, actually
, I corrected in my head.

She stood and sauntered to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “But since you think you’re up to the task of handling this whoooole huge thing all by yourself, have at it.”

“Wait, no. I don’t mean to do it all by myself—”

“Oh nooo, I wouldn’t think to tread on
your
territory. You’ll find not just one perfect someone, but
two
perfect someones for our little gay bazillionaire.” Then she pushed off the desk and stepped toward me. “But just a warning, hooker. Your ass is on the line. If you fuck up by even the smallest fraction of an inch, I’ll have your freckled ass back on a Qantas flight to Australia to whatever podunk little town you escaped from so fast you won’t have time to remove my stiletto from your rectum.” Then she smiled, a friendly, evil smile. “We clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good girl,” she said, and then went back to her chair.
 

As I headed toward the door, I noticed I was shaking with adrenaline from the whole exchange, but I couldn’t leave without making sure Ace’s secret stayed, well, a secret.

“Val?” I said, pivoting back to face her.
 

“Hmm.”

“You won’t tell anyone, right? It’s just if it got out, it would probably ruin his career, which is why he came to us in the first place. Because he trusts us.”

She made the motion of sealing her lips. “I’d hate for that to happen. I always liked him as Ranger Joe Fox.” Then she grabbed her drink and kicked the chair around to face her back wall of windows, the conversation effectively over.
 

With a sigh, I opened the door to leave and ran smack into front-desk Nicole.
 

“Hey, watch it,” she said, as a stack of papers went flying out of her hands and she scrambled to get them.
 

But she’d been too close to the door. Like, so close she could’ve been eavesdropping.
 

“Hear anything interesting?” I asked after shutting Val’s door behind me.
 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Really.”

She made a show of looking around the empty hallway. “Shayne. Are you hearing voices? Do people speak to you in your head?” Her face was one of mock sympathy. “You really should get that checked out.”

“Is there any reason you’re standing outside Val’s office?”

“Of course,” she said, holding up the stack of papers. “Val asked for these copies this morning, but then I saw the door was shut. Is she free now?”

I knew she was lying. Knew it like I knew that Gucci handbag she kept propped up on her desk like a trophy was a big, fat fake, though she claimed otherwise to anyone who’d listen. I’d seen her buying it in Santee Alley in the fashion district a few blocks away, a place notorious for fifteen-dollar knockoffs.
 

I gave her a long look. “You do remember you signed a confidentiality agreement when you started working here?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Seriously, Shayne, what is your problem lately?” She put her hand on the knob and then over her shoulder said, “Maybe it’s time you hooked yourself up and stopped worrying about what everyone else is doing. You’re so paranoid.”
 

With that, she stepped inside Val’s office and slammed the door shut in my face.

Now, I’m not a violent person, but this girl had a swift uppercut and gut punch coming. And probably sooner rather than later.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Do You Accept This Rose?

I’D BEEN A zombie all day, my mind solely focused on the people I needed to call between each break in clients and what favors I could possibly owe them for any connections they could give me. If this was what it was like to grovel, I was not a fan.
 

I massaged my temples in slow circles as my to-do list loomed in my head.
 

Deal with hormonal, psychopathic, drug-addicted boss and deranged co-worker?
Check.
 

Interview potential clients all day and ward off a total of two advances?
Check.
 

Find a celebrity beard
and
undercover boyfriend for A+-list movie star client ASAP or lose my job and end up singing off-key Michael Jackson songs on the train for money?
Pshh, no big deal.
 

Really. It wasn’t like I would end up in a shared apartment in Watts or anything. Or would I?

Ohhhhh God, what have I done?
I thought, banging my head on my desk. I’d never been one to beg, but it looked like I would have to get my knees dirty.