Page 8 of A Secret and a Lie

“Yep.”

The scotch slides down my throat, suddenly tasting like sour battery acid.

Gazing into his glass, he asks, “Did you get the details for your new assignment?”

“Yeah, I’m infiltrating a sex ring.” I cross my ankle over my knee, getting more comfortable.

The corner of Drake’s lips quirks. “Damn, at least that’s exciting. I’m out here picking up suicide cases that arenotsuicides.”

“I don’t know ifexcitingis the word I’d use.”

While he might be right, he’s also wrong. Is something truly thrilling if you don’t want to be doing it? I told Genevieve the truth; I don’t lead an exhilarating life. I wake up, work out, attempt to wrap my head around Oliver Crawford’s billion-dollar business, brush up on the files sent to me by the FBI, fill out paperwork, go to sleep. Somewhere in there, I fit in meals and visiting the slew of businesses I’m invested in. I’m bored; not the least bit interested in taking down a sex ring.

The firelight makes the golden-amber liquid in my crystal tumbler glow like a harvest moon, and I swirl until it resembles a tornado as I tell Drake, “Someone with some power has it out for this Madam, though. From the looks of her file, it seems like maybe she knows things she shouldn’t.”

“At least it’s interesting, and it certainly beats the bullshit I’m tasked with.”

It’s not lost on me that the FBI only begged me to stick around for this case for my—my grandfather’s—connections. I’m sure it helped that I have a track record of always doing things the right way. Fortunately, this should be an easy sting. Get in, get the lay of the land, learn the whereabouts of the little black Rolodex of clients, and get the fuck out. Shouldn’t take more than a month or two. Three tops.

Genevieve

“Allie?”

I glance up to find one of the girls who works for me standing in the doorway of my office, the same place Corinne just abandoned after grilling me about my encounter with Ford at the bar. Bree gnaws on her bottom lip nervously, and my smile dissipates. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I talk to you?”

When I nod, she takes the seat on the other side of my office. “Are you okay?” I ask, concern woven between each syllable. My eyes track over her body, searching for any outward injuries, but I don’t find any.

“Yeah, I, um…” She shakes her head, swallowing audibly. “I’m trying to get pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Bree.” The tension coiled around my neck and shoulders like a boa constrictor loosens.

“Thanks.” Her fair complexion pinkens as she takes a deep breath. “I want out.”

I smile at her and nod. This isn’t all that surprising since Corinne told me about the rumor floating the halls that Bree and her fiancé were trying to start a family of their own. While I have several employees who work for me who are parents, I neversuspected Bree would join that list once she brought a baby into the world.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I—”

Cutting her off with a wave of my hand, I relax into my seat, crossing my legs, my skirt riding up a little. “Bree, you don’t owe me an explanation. If you want out, you’re out. It’s as simple as that.”

I’m not a tyrant. I don’t kill the men and women who want out of the business of sex. I treat them fairly, only taking a thirty-five percent cut of their profits for providing a safe atmosphere for them to work, security, and regular medical testing for themselves and their clients. I’m not some asshole pimp from off the street. I care about those who work for me, and in turn, they’ve become my family of sorts. I have only their best interests at heart.

Having once been a victim of a pimp who only evertook, took, took,I know how valuable it is to give.

The air conditioning cycles on, filling the room with its low, hypnotic hum. She wrings her hands in her lap as she nods. “I can work another two weeks, but—”

I smile at her consideration. “Don’t worry about that. If you don’t want to work another minute, that’s just fine, Bree. I’ll get your clients covered.”

Her relief is palpable, and she squeaks out, “Thank you. Milton is the only client who might be hard for you to place, but Carissa told me she could take him starting next week.”

My brow furrows. Milton Torres works for the National Security Agency, and while Bree has never once complained, I’ve kept an eye on him. He has a reputation for working outside of the law to get results, and I’ve never wanted my business, or Bree, to get swept up in his storm. “Has he given you trouble?”

“No, not really. He’s just…cranky.”

I nod slowly, making a note to discuss this with both Marcus and Carissa before she formally takes him on as a client.

Something about Milton pricks the hair on the back of my neck.