Page 55 of The Bad Girl

Chapter 20

Maxwell

I shake hands with the gathered business associates, donning a fake grin and an even faker desire to be out boating with the group of advantageous sharks that each have expectations of me.

Jean Harlow wants me to drop everything and get my best designers on his daughter’s wedding gown. Sorry, Harlow, my best designers dress royalty

The lovely Lady Elaine would very much like to see me and her granddaughter together in the tabloids, despite the fact that I’m nearly twenty-nine and the girl’s not quite eighteen—no, thank you.

Sam Johnson is all about the below-board trading. Secret for a secret. Banding together to pull off some Game of Thrones bullshit that only works in high-budget thrillers. I must admit, though, it’s fun to entertain him.

Mike T. is inspecting the cabins below deck, making sure they are safe and secure while one of his underlings, Trevor, waits with Nadine and me, his eyes darting at every sound. It’s common for new security personnel to be jumpy, fully sure that danger lurks in every shadowy corner. Lucky for me, I’ve rarely had a notable security incident, and the most common one that happens at least twice a year is a naked woman waiting for me outside my building.

I give Trevor a pat on the shoulder, to which he jumps. Knowing he’s just going to stress everyone out, I decide that after Mike T. gives the all-clear, I’m sending him home.

“And who might this be?” Harlow bends to grab Nadine’s hand, which she extends outward for him to kiss.

“This is my assistant, Nadine. Nadine, this is Mr. Harlow. We’ve gone in on some business endeavors in the past, and who knows, maybe we will again.”

I lean towards Nadine and whisper, “Bad girls don’t just give their hands to men twice their age,” and she cuts me a glare.

Mikes T. sends me a message saying we’re good, and I give Trevor the order to return to his office.

We follow Harlow onto the massive boat, where our afternoon will be spent in comfort and luxury. A bartender is busy mixing drinks and trays of food have been set out to graze upon.

I have Mike T. put our bags in a cabin below deck and lead Nadine to the sitting area.

Eliza, a woman who often serves at these functions, steps out from below deck in a yellow bikini that fails to hide much of anything. I’ve had to update her contact in my Little Black Book on more than one occasion. If I remember correctly, she has no tolerance for alcohol, is rather ticklish, and gives one hell of a blow job.

Eliza makes no attempt to hide her open disdain for Nadine, which I expected. The women that vie for the attention of men like me are cutthroat. They have to be in order to stand out. This is exactly the situation Nadine needs to be put in for her to grow more comfortable in her confidence, though dealing with Eliza’s shenanigans will no doubt be draining.

Johnson, ever stoic, makes his expression unreadable. His poker face is one of his greatest assets, and it’s really thrown a curveball into our negotiations in the past.

“I must admit,” Johnson says with a cigar hanging from his mouth, “ I hadn’t expected you to show up with such a lovely young lady.”

“Nadine, this is Mr. Johnson.”

“Please,” Johnson gives her an icy smile, “call me Sam.”

Nadine forces a smile that looks far too much like her lips are a marionette, commanded by some higher power. It’s clear she doesn’t like him, and to be quite honest, I think he’s rather disappointed to be seeing her.

We take our seats, and Lady Elaine holds out a box of cigars to me, which I graciously accept, choosing one with a rich, nutty flavor.

Nadine emanates nervous energy, which I try to soothe by placing a hand around her waist, which sends my own heart racing.

Eliza gets me a whiskey, which I thank her for. When I tell her to grab Nadine a margarita, she merely stands there, her hands on her hips, a look of contempt on her face.

“Umm…you heard him,” Nadine pipes up with a raised brow, and without any recourse, Eliza retreats to get the drink.

“Wow,” I whisper to Nadine, “didn’t realize you hadthatin you.”

“If someone’s going to show open disdain for me, I’m not going to just sit there and take it.”

“As you shouldn’t.”

The boat launches from the dock, sending Nadine’s hair fanning backward.

“Did ye hear about Morty?” Harlow says, red-faced and chuckling. “Caught tryna do some autoerotic crap by his wife. It was the last straw. Now, she’s moving into the Hampton home and spilling all the beans.”