Page 13 of Hunt Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #1)

B ristol

Mondays were never easy.

It didn’t help that this was the second interview of the day or that I’d been summoned to my father’s office later that day. Since this appointment was running forty-two minutes late, I’d likely be forced to miss grabbing a bite to eat before heading to the inner sanctum of my father’s world.

Food had been out of the question that morning. My nerves had been too raw.

I’d been sent three emails in the wee hours of the morning thanking me for my time interviewing, but that I wasn’t a right fit for their firm.

What in the hell was a right fit?

With over six thousand accredited lawyers in Las Vegas, I was considered bottom of the barrel and would have to prove myself. How could I do that when I couldn’t obtain a job? My father had warned me hundreds of attorneys and their respective firms were dirty, something I’d refused to believe.

Now I was beginning to question if the entire town was owned by acts of corruption. My nerves were frayed like stripped live wires.

And the thought of seeing my father wasn’t helping. I knew exactly why he wanted me to come to his glorious office.

To offer me a job.

Maybe this time I’d find the right way to turn him down.

Again.

Sighing. I glanced at my watch as nonchalantly as possible. There was nothing worse than keeping people waiting. It would seem a lot of people in Vegas made a habit of making people suffer for longer than necessary.

Was I cranky today? Absolutely.

That’s because Sunday nights weren’t my favorites either, but the evening before had been a combination of being angry and still in the throes of unbridled, crazed sex.

With a Russian god.

I’d spent the night before preparing for two interviews, which were numbers seven and eight respectively.

I should have been happy that at least I’d moved from the application phase to obtaining actual interviews, but in the two weeks of active searching after four months of sending out resumes even prior to passing the bar, I was exhausted from wearing a plastic smile and pretending I was the perfect team member.

There was a distinct possibility I was more conflicted today because I’d spent most of Sunday in a haze, the steamy fog a condition I’d heard about after incredible sex.

As I sat in the reception area, where I’d been for the last thirty minutes, every time I shifted in the uncomfortable seat, I was reminded that I’d slipped into a beautiful moment of insanity.

I’d had sex with a mysterious, dangerous, sensual stranger. Worse, I’d allowed him to spank me first, which was why my bottom remained somewhat tender. Certainly not as much as I’d thought, but a reminder of the glorious night of passion, nonetheless.

I stared down at my briefcase while I envisioned Mikhail’s face. I’d resisted Googling him for no other reason than I had to remind myself I wasn’t living out the storyline of a romance novel. After agreeing to no strings, pining away for him wouldn’t be good for my psyche.

Although… I shifted in my seat, wishing I could indulge in the delicious fantasy for a few more hours. Hot. Wild. Sex.

I was very much a bad girl.

Pure, powerful Russian, his accent had been soft velvet brushing against my naked body, exciting every inch of my skin.

It was interesting that Lilia had no accent whatsoever.

Neither did two of her brothers. Both Lilia’s mother and father were extremely Russian.

I’d understood maybe half of what Boris Dmitriyev had said during the rehearsal dinner.

Why had Mikhail been late? It was none of my business, but my curiosity about the family was increasing. There were too many crazies in this world, which was why tossing aside every concept of security had been so out of place for me. But the night had been delicious.

I bit my lower lip, remembering Mikhail’s rough kisses and controlling hold. I’d awakened with sunlight streaming in through the window, unnerved but satisfied. There was no way of knowing when he’d left, but the bed didn’t appear as if he’d slept in it.

After glancing at the receptionist, I slipped my hand inside my briefcase, pulling the note I’d found on the coffee table. Short and sweet, his written words left no room for misunderstandings.

We wouldn’t see each other again and in truth, that was probably best. The girl who’d allowed herself to be spanked and dominated certainly wasn’t the woman sitting in the posh outer office of one of the most respected law firms in Las Vegas.

Plus, I didn’t think if I was lucky enough to get the job, I’d have any time for a personal life. Oh, wow. Something new and different.

Not.

I’d spent the last seven years studying, working and preparing for my life after college.

My ideal’nyy angel ,

Last night was unexpected and I can truly say one of the most enjoyable evenings I’ve had in a very long time. You are truly perfect in every way.

M

M. As if our passionate evening would remain our little secret.

How ridiculous and unlike me, but I planned on keeping the words of endearment.

For some reason when I’d found the note, I’d swooned like some lovesick girl.

It was silly really, but when I’d realized he’d taken my thong with him, I’d been stunned.

I’d also squealed.

I fingered the paper, allowing myself to remember the highlights, including our conversation.

Canadian bacon, mushrooms, and extra cheese.

Exactly the way I preferred my pizza. Now I wished he hadn’t blindfolded me.

At least I could cherish images of his naked carved body instead of the way he looked in his tailored suit.

Which was also sexy as hell.

Sighing, I shoved the beautiful interlude from my mind.

Now I had to get a job.

I wouldn’t be able to keep turning my father down forever. At least being offered a job would silence him, hopefully for good. Sadly, the ‘job completely beneath my skillset’ as my father spouted off wasn’t good enough to keep him from nearly demanding I work with him.

Granted, working as an administrative assistant while moonlighting delivering food or groceries to people wasn’t going to help me pay off my student loans.

Almost every penny was going to the rent.

The apartment I shared with my sister wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination, but it was pricy.

As was gas, food, and clothing. Including one of four new suits I’d purchased less than a week before. I had to look the part, professional yet edgy. Meanwhile, I was losing hope I’d find a job in the state let alone my hometown.

I ran my finger over the cursive writing, marveling at how readable the note was, another rarity. Most guys wrote like my gynecologist scribbled.

“Miss Rork?”

“Yes?” I jerked my head up, immediately slipping the note back into its hiding place.

“Mr. Jenkins will see you now.”

“Thank you very much.” I stood and hated the fact my legs were shaking. I’d never been very good at interviews although I should consider myself a pro by now.

“I’ll take you.” The girl led me down a hallway to the very end, opening the door and smiling. “There you go.”

“Thank you so much.” I walked in, uncertain what to expect. I’d done my homework on the firm, but you could never know the tone of the meeting before going in. Every law firm was different.

The man stood at the window staring out into the Las Vegas early afternoon sun. He certain didn’t seem as if he knew I’d walked in.

I remained where I was, quiet as a church mouse.

But I was annoyed.

And becoming more so with every passing second. While I understood the man’s time was valuable, I’d heard every excuse in the book about why I was not right for the job or the company or the team atmosphere and I was fed up.

“Excuse me. Mr. Jenkins. I had an appointment over thirty minutes ago. Would you prefer I come at another time?”

He didn’t respond right away. As a matter of fact, he acted as if he had no intention of responding at all.

Mark Jenkins came from a long line of attorneys, his father and grandfather defending some of the most notable corporations in Nevada.

I’d heard he was a straight shooter, although my best friend had mentioned they had some notorious if not questionable clients.

I hadn’t asked. I didn’t need to know. They hadn’t been first on my list, but I was at the point of accepting any position offered.

I shifted from foot to foot, trying to be patient even when it wasn’t even in my repertoire.

Even though everyone considered me shy, I was a go-getter and always had been, determined to force my way into any situation if it benefitted my future.

Maybe that’s why I’d enjoyed the competition more than most. What I’d never done was be reckless in any situation, always playing it safe.

Another reason my behavior on Saturday night had been so out of character for me.

After another full two minutes, I’d had enough. His rudeness wasn’t acceptable and told me a great deal about his company. Just when I was prepared to turn and leave, he cleared his throat.

“Sit, Ms. Rork.”

I almost retorted, but bit my tongue, easing into the chair opposite his deck. He waited for another full minute. Now I was perspiring buckets.

“Tell me why you’d make a good fit for this company.”

He was really starting with the good fit aspect? It was the one part of the interview I dreaded the most and since I’d been lambasted by eight companies so far for not being the perfect fit, I was leery of answering.

When I didn’t answer right away, he turned around to face me.

His expression was wary, already judgmental.

There was also keen recognition in his eyes.

I’d seen that before since my father had ruffled more than his share of feathers on his way to winning the mayoral election.

As he had told me more than once, he was determined to clean up the riffraff in the city.