CHAPTER TWO
Levi
“H ello?” I answer the phone as Mitch drives us back to the office.
“Mr. Thorne, a detective at LAPD has been calling for hours trying to get ahold of you,” Carly, my secretary, informs me as I lean my head against the headrest. I can feel a headache brewing. “They have Blaire Hutchins in custody, wanting to speak to her attorney.”
“Can you have Henry handle this?”
“Henry is on vacation, out of the country, until next Wednesday, sir.”
I blow out a heavy breath, “Text me which precinct they have her at and I’ll take care of it.”
I hang up and immediately get the text from Carly. After telling Mitch the location, he puts his blinker on and we head in that direction.
Blaire is a problem between me and Saylor.
When her best friend, Everly, was attacked and put into the hospital from one of Blaire’s models, Pandora’s Box was opened.
Saylor learned that Blaire hired out her models to wealthy men, to further their careers in the public’s view.
Blaire was my brother’s first client after leaving our dad’s law firm.
There was an arrangement that was made long before I came on, after passing the bar.
As time went on, Blaire started approaching me about letting the models take care of more than just photo opportunities at events.
At first, I had no idea that she was offering sex after dates with her models but somehow it snowballed into that.
Lincoln was using Blaire, so I thought it wasn’t a big deal.
Blaire and I had a few months of sex, until she paired me up with her newest signed client, who was wanting to become an actress.
Josie was nice and from a small town in Iowa.
She seemed to have some major goals and wanted to focus on them, in order to succeed.
It was something I could appreciate since I’d rather be anywhere else than in the spotlight.
Over time, it was so simple to show up at events with one of Blaire’s clients and play a role smiling at the cameras then mingling with potential clients that Lincoln was trying to snag.
Then I’d go home; sometimes with sex at a hotel or in the back of the town car along the way.
It was uncomplicated and easy to make a call and pick someone up last minute.
Also, I have a hard time connecting with people on an intimate level.
Sure, I can have sex, a lot actually, but there is no connection there.
I have trust issues that stem back to my mother and father always picking their next fix over me and my brother.
Their choices have fucked with me ever since they died, when I was seven years old.
My aunt and uncle love me but, as a child and even now, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I like to keep people at a distance so that no one is able to leave me again, which is why I liked working with Blaire.
That is until Saylor walked in and changed my whole world.
It was like I’d been waiting for her to show up and tilt my axis.
She made me want to be a better version of myself.
To connect with something other than money and winning.
I stopped going to functions because I’d rather spend more time with her than a group of strangers.
I learned we shared a love of the great outdoors.
I opened up about fixing up houses and she urged me to pursue it.
I’d taken her to a few of my projects and she fell in love with them.
We’d work together in the evenings on a house sometimes, and it was then that I knew she was the one for me.
“Hopefully this won’t take long,” I tell Mitch, as he opens my door for me.
“I’ll go and grab some coffee from around the corner.”
I nod then head into the police station.
“Remove all phones and laptops and place them in the bin,” an officer says, after I inform the desk who I’m here to see.
Once I’ve cleared the detectors, they bring me down to a small room with two metal chairs and a table.
What in the world could Blaire have gotten herself into?
A few minutes later, the door opens and in walks a very disheveled Blaire in an orange jumpsuit, with both her hands and ankles handcuffed.
The female officer forces her down in the metal chair and then locks her cuffs to the table.
“No touching,” the officer states firmly, then walks out of the room and stands with her back facing the door.
Blaire looks a mess. Her hair is all over the place and her eyes are almost swollen shut. Shit, did someone work her over in there or what? Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look like this.
“Levi,” Blaire bellows, “you have to get me out of here.”
I’ve never seen her act so vulnerable in my life.
Ever since I’ve known her, she has always shown a strong dominate, in control attitude with anything that was thrown at her.
This person in front of me is not the Blaire Hutchins that brought me my first client, and who provided me dates to functions.
She tries to reach out for my hand, but a loud banging on the door makes her drop her hand mid-air.
“Blaire, what is going on? Why are you in here?” I ask, leaning on the metal table in front of us. Surely unpaid parking tickets don’t result in this much disarray.
“I-I don’t know how they found out or where to look but they got everything,” she says rambling, but doesn’t look at me in the eyes.
“What? What did they find?” Surely, she has been smart about her paperwork.
She knows what the consequences are if she’s ever caught on not being legitimate.
Maybe the Mayor wasn’t happy about his companion?
I haven’t seen him with any arm candy in a while.
Of course, I’ve not been to many events lately.
“The police. They came to my home with a warrant to search my house on an anonymous tip or something. They made me wait outside and four hours later I’m being handcuffed and brought in here.” Tears are streaming down her face now.
“What happened? Obviously, they found your kinky room but that isn’t illegal. Who doesn’t like a little kink?” I lower my voice, in case they are standing on the other side the two-way mirror watching our conversation.
She starts shaking and bows her head. Fuck, this can’t be good.
“They-they found the room that had my safe hidden in the wall with all my files. They opened it and took everything in there.”
“Files? What files are you talking about, Blaire?” I start to panic, knowing that she has helped me over the years in contracting my companions.
Surely, she wouldn’t have any evidence of my name, she knows how private I am.
She’s smarter than that. We’re all promised anonymity when we pay for our model companions.
She starts to shake even more and she closes her eyes.
“Levi, they were my files of everyone I’ve ever helped.
My client list, my girls, the offers, videos—everything!
Even the contracts that weren’t a part of the companion side of the business.
” Christ, this isn’t good. Doesn’t she know how this will affect all her high society members, government officials, actors, and musicians?
“Me? Did you have a file on me?” She nods and bile rises in my throat. “What do you mean you have a file on me?” I slam my fist down on the table and she jumps. “Do you know what this could do to me and my wife, my family or business?”
“I-I’m sorry.” In all my years of knowing this woman she has never apologized.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. Everything was going as planned and we were about to cross the finish line,” she mummers out the last part cryptically but I don’t have time to analyze it right now.
I’m trying to think of the damage control my firm is about to endure.
My anger is boiling over the top and I want to slap the shit out of her for this.
My entire life could be turned upside down any moment, all because she was careless in keeping files of the upper echelon in our city.
I reach in my pocket to contact Dean, but realize that I left all that at the front desk.
Something flashes across my mind and I snap my face back to Blaire. She still hasn’t answered my question.
“What are they holding you on?” I grit my teeth.
She bows her head again and I know it’s bad. “I had a few photos of the model clients in compromising positions.”
This doesn’t make any sense. Who cares about photos as long as they are consenting adults. Adults…Adults…
“All of your companions are of age? Right, Blaire?” My hard look at her makes her shift in her chair.
“I-I had a few that might look young.”
What the fuck?
“Look young or were young!” I try to calmly say. I could flip the table, I’m so furious, but the last thing I need right now is to lose my cool in a police station.
“This has to be someone out to get me. Someone who hates me,” she rambles on and all I can think about is that she lied to me.
She told me that everything was on the up and up.
When I asked her about how this was legal she said that Lincoln had everything handled.
I had this nagging feeling that something wasn’t right, but I thought since Lincoln was okay with it that it was fine.
She lied! She lied! What else has she done? God help me!
I start to shake and even though I’m looking at her, I don’t see her at all.
My vision is replaying everything that she’s told me over the years.
I start to feel like I’m the one imprisoned in here.
Sweat starts to form on my brow and everything Dr. Jordan and Saylor have said come crashing down over me.
Not moral. There has to be more going on than just companionship.
Possible prostitution. Taken advantage of. Manipulated.
“How many, Blaire? How many are we talking?” I demand.
She actually has the nerve to shrug a shoulder. Bitch.