“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 just 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-up 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.
I’m not even gonna bother trying to justify the two pigtail braids I have my hair in today. I thought it was cute this morning. Now, standing in front of Mrs. Corporate, I just feel childish.
“Well, I’m all ears, Cindy. Give it your best shot.”
She’s intimidating. Definitely intimidating. I’m suddenly wishing my mother was here to say what I need to say. She’d know how to handle this woman. She’d talk circles around her and threaten to kick her ass if she stepped out of line.
But I’m not that talented in the tough-chick department. I’m more of a kill-’em-with-quirkiness kind of girl. I’m not sure that’s gonna work with Mrs. Corporate.
“I’m…” Shit.
Get it together, Cindy. You’re capable, and smart, and very good at what you do.
“I’m just a little worried about what happened out there on Pax’s islands in the Exumas.”
“Define worried,” Tori says, her voice smooth. Calm. Confident.
“Well.” I laugh nervously. “You almost got him killed.”
“He almost got
us
killed.” She takes a deep breath—and a moment—to compose herself. “So I’m not sure we have anything to discuss about that incident.”
“But the reason, Tori. Surely you can see the problem I’m having.”
“Not quite, Cindy,” she says, unrattled. “Why don’t you explain?”
“He was doing it to protect Weston, Tori. You know that, right?”
“Do I know that?” she says, a little bit of bitchiness leaking through in her tone. “All I know is that Mr. Mysterious set us up to be ambushed out in the middle of the ocean. They had machine guns, Cindy. Does that sound like protecting us?”
“Nobody calls them machine guns, Tori. Please. And from what I understand Pax had no choice. That Liam guy came to our house. Our office. He was relentless. I heard the entire conversation. It’s not like Pax did it for money. He did it because Liam threatened to hire someone else if he refused. And the reason Liam was so pissed off was because West had something he wanted.”
“Well, Liam Henry beat the shit out of West when he was a child, killed his father, and then sold him to another family. Does that sound like something a seven-year-old can control?”