Say the Word (32 page)

A sinking feeling turned my stomach when I realized that, if Fae and MadHatter were correct about
Labyrinth
, it would throw a major wrench in my plans to search the building. I couldn’t simply follow this lead and walk through the front doors. Places like this, with their closely guarded velvet ropes and multitude of bouncers, were harder to get into than the White House.

“Hypothetically, if someone who wasn’t a member wanted to get in… how would someone do it?”

Fae was silent for a moment, then sighed deeply. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Humor me,” I appealed.

“It’s impossible,” she said. “You can’t get in unless you’re either a member yourself or the guest of one.”

Damn. I thought for a moment before further querying my annoyed friend.

“Hypothetically, if someone wanted to find out the members’ names… how would someone go about it?”

“Hypothetically?” Fae’s tone was skeptical but amused. “That
someone
would have to call her best friend at well past a decent hour, in the middle of the night, and ask said friend to make a call.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She sighed. “I know a guy. He makes it his business to find out this city’s secrets. I’ll call him in the morning, see what he can do. No guarantees, but it’s worth a shot.”

“I owe you a bottle of wine,” I
said, feeling my spirits lift. With any luck, Fae’s mystery man — who I totally had to ask about at a later date because, um, how cool was it that she ‘knew a guy’ who dealt in secrets — would come through for us and I’d have another lead to chase down.

“More than one,” she observed. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. This is about Vera and that crazy-town collage of theories you’ve plastered all over your apartment wall. We’re overdue for a chat about your conspiracy obsession. No more secrets.”

“Oh, like you don’t have secrets of your own.” I snorted. The girl was practically a Pandora’s Box of mystery.

Fae sighed, but didn’t contradict my words. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I hear back about
Labyrinth
. We can meet after work.”

“Thanks, Fae.”

“Yeah, yeah. Call before ten next time,” she grumbled, clicking off.

Despite her grouchiness I knew no matter what time I called, Fae would always answer. I smiled as I stashed my phone on my bedside table, closed down my laptop, and snuggled deeper beneath my comforter. It had been a pretty awesome day, if you didn’t count my interaction with Sebastian — which I wasn’t. The last thing I saw before my eyes drifted closed was my Cinderella gown hanging on the door of my closet.

The bartender slid a glass of
Merlot across the mahogany bar top, grabbed the bills I’d placed on its sticky surface, and moved on to take another order. I stared into the deep crimson swirling in my glass, mired in a bad mood I hadn’t been able to shake all day.

Not since Cara had shown up at the office this afternoon, anyway.

She’d sauntered in, two lesser-known models following at her heels as any proper minions should, and immediately headed for Sebastian. Sure, I’d been studiously ignoring him all day as I worked on a new piece about how the 1960s fashion evolution echoed female empowerment, but once Cara made a move in his direction, all of my senses shifted into high-alert. I watched her progress with narrowed eyes, listened intently to her girlish greeting, and flinched when I saw her wrap skeleton-thin arms around his torso.

My head told me in a calm, rational tone that I should be glad he had someone else to distract him from his mission to discover what had happened between us seven years ago.

My heart let out a battle cry and decked itself out in war-paint, beating a drum and sharpening a spear as it prepared to engage Cara in a savage altercation that would leave no doubt about who Sebastian belonged to.

I fought against my more primal instincts and managed to talk myself off the edge. Not very far off — just a step or two back from the brink — but enough that I could turn my eyes back to my laptop and at least pretend to focus on my story. My gaze may have been averted, but my ears were finely attuned to every word that escaped Cara’s Maybelline-endorsed Very Berry lips.

“Baby, wait until you see my dress for Centennial! It’s Vera Wang. Totally gorgeous.”

“Cara, you’re late.” I was relieved to hear the frustrated undercurrents in Sebastian’s voice — a
common occurrence whenever he spoke to the model. “We had the ’50s shoot this morning. You missed it.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Cara whined, her voice that of a petulant child. “Let’s go shoot it.”

“I don’t need you here, Cara. Go home.”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t need me?’ I’m the lead model for this spread.”

I could sense her pouting from across the room.

“We shot it without you,” Bash said, his voice weary. “So come back tomorrow. On time.”

“What did you say?” Cara screeched.

“You heard me, Cara. And don’t act so surprised — you know my rules. You didn’t show up; I replaced you. End of story.”

“This is ridiculous!” Cara’s shrill tone made everyone in the office flinch. “I’m calling Jeanine about this.”

“Go ahead.”

Cara stormed to the elevators — or so I thought. When the unmistakable sound of her clomping heels came to a halt directly next to my work station, I looked up to find the model’s glaring eyes narrowed on my face.

“While I’m on the phone with Jeanine, I’ll be sure to tell her what an absolute fuck up you’ve been here,” she sneered at me. “After the stunt you pulled with my salad, I wanted you fired right away. Sebastian convinced me that your working here would make up for it, though, so I didn’t say anything.” She looked at me with the malicious excitement of a small boy who’d pinned an ant beneath his magnifying glass on a hot summer day. “But you haven’t suffered here at all. In fact, the way I see it, he treats you better than he treats me. So I’ll be speaking to Jeanine about you after all, skank, and I’ll make sure you walk away from here without your job.”

With a final glare, she turned and exited the building. My wide eyes flew from her retreating form to Sebastian, who was already striding in my direction. Beneath the watchful eyes of the score of people in the office, he grabbed my arm and led me to the emergency exit stairwell. When the heavy metal door swung shut at my back, isolating us in the abandoned stairway, he turned to me and let out an exasperated breath.

“What did she say to you?” he asked, running one hand through his hair.

I leaned back against the cool cinderblock wall, as far as I could get from him on the small landing. “Just that she’s going to call my boss and get me fired.”

“Shit.” With a sigh, he leaned against the opposite wall, directly across from me.

“Yeah.” I swallowed roughly, trying to quell my worry.

“Well, it’s not like you enjoy your job, anyway,” Bash’s tone was amused and a quiet chuckle escaped his lips. “Writing about bubble bath and Beyoncé isn’t really your style. No huge loss.”

I lifted incredulous eyes to him. “You think this is
funny
? Losing my job and only source of income is
laughable
to you?”

“Lux, I was kidding.” He cracked a smile. “You don’t have to worry about your job. Cara has no power. She might huff and puff and blow a whole lot of smoke up your boss’ ass, but at the end of the day nothing will come of it. She’s a pretty face, nothing more.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, taking a step in my direction and closing some of the gap between us. “But if you want, I can call Jeanine and smooth whatever feathers Cara manages to ruffle.”

“Really?” I asked, swallowing nervously as I watched him move closer.

“Of course.” His smile was warm as he took one final step and entered my space fully. I felt my mouth go dry when he leaned down so our faces were at eye level. “For a price,” he whispered against my lips.

I let out an embarrassing nervous squeak and tried to shrink back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go.

“Nervous, Freckles
?” he asked, his voice amused. “Whatever for? You haven’t even heard the price yet. And from what I remember of last night — I think you might enjoy my price quite a bit.”

Breathe. Just breathe. Ignore everything he just said. Don’t think about how much you would
definitely
enjoy any price he set for you. Don’t drool on him — that would be bad. And do not, under any circumstances, let him kiss you.

“I’m not nervous,” I lied, placing both palms against his chest and pushing him slightly out of my space. “You should be, though. I’m pretty sure this is sexual harassment.” My small grin of triumph dissipated as soon as he leaned against my hands, his breath once again ghosting across my lips and sending shivers down my spine.

“Freckles, you can sexually harass me any time you want.”

“I hate you, remember?” I smiled at him caustically, not realizing my poor word choice until I saw his eyes go liquid with heat — there was no doubt he recalled yesterday evening, the last time I’d said those words to him.

Shit. Seeing those memories in his gaze, I felt my own control slipping away.

“Oh, I remember,” he whispered. His eyes watched my mouth as he leaned forward, his pupils dilating when my tongue darted out to wet my parched lips. He came ever closer, and I waged an internal war. I wanted his kiss,
needed
it, more than my next breath — but that didn’t mean I could have it.

I should’ve moved away, skirted around him, darted for the door.

Instead, I froze and simply watched as his lips came toward mine. Our mouths were mere millimeters apart when a knock sounded on the metal stairwell door, snapping me out of my lustful haze. We sprang apart just as the entry swung open.

Angela popped her head inside. “Sebastian, we need your opinion on the final proofs. We’re about to send off the first five decades to the publication team for review.”

“Okay, be right there,” Bash called. Angela disappeared back into the office, the door swinging shut behind her with a resounding boom. He turned his head back to meet my eyes, an amused smirk on his face.

“Saved by the bell,” he murmured, his eyes still burning. “Any chance you want to pick this up at my place after work?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to get my breathing under control. “Absolutely not.”

He smirked. “Right. ‘Cause you hate me.”

“Right.” I nodded sharply.

“That’s fine,
Freckles. You’re just making this more fun.” He grinned. “See, I’ve got a new strategy.”

I didn’t dare ask what he was talking about, but steeled myself when he stepped close once more and backed me up against the wall with his frame. He pressed a soft kiss against my lips, then whispered a string of words that made me curse myself for my own inability to walk away.

“You might think you’re the villain in my story, Lux, but what you don’t seem to realize is that
I don’t care
. Princess or Evil Queen, I want you standing by my side when the tale comes to an end. So I’m not walking away — I’m going to wear you down, until you’re ready — no, until you’re
dying —
to tell me what happened back then.” Another kiss landed on my lips, and I fought off a tremble of desire. “And Freckles?”

My eyes flickered up to meet his searing gaze.

“It’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun.”

I was stirred from my reverie by a familiar voice.

“What’s with the horse impersonation?”

Turning on my stool, I quirked an eyebrow at Fae, who’d just arrived at the bar with Simon in tow.

“Excuse me?”

“The long face,” Simon explained.

I rolled my eyes. “Hardy har har.”

They settled in on the stools to my either side and quickly put in orders for their own drinks with a passing bartender. I was still nursing my first glass of Merlot.

“Bad day?” Fae asked.

“The worst.”

“Well, cheer up, chicky. I’ve got good news,” she said, fishing around in her purse for a moment and pulling out a legal-sized envelope. She slapped it down on the bar in front of me, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Am I good, or am I good?”

“If this is what I think it is, you aren’t just good — you’re freaking
great
.” I picked up the envelope lightly, hope flaring to life in my chest at the feeling of the thick paper beneath my fingertips.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re all wonderful,” Simon intoned in a bored voice. “Open the damn thing.”

I worked my right index finger beneath the seal, ripping the thin package open with care not to tear anything inside. I held my breath as I reached into the envelope and pulled out a stapled stack of sheets. There were probably at least twenty printed pages, but with just a cursory glance I could tell Fae’s “guy” had come through for us. Big time.

The first few sheets contained a brief history of
Labyrinth
, which I mostly skimmed through. The final section of papers held the most vital information — a master list of members’ names, dating back fifty odd years. I heard Fae’s audible intake of air and could feel Simon vibrating with excitement as their eyes scanned through some of the figures on the list. My own heart began to race as I saw this was no mere collection of socialites and society members.