CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
JORDAN
Back in the party, I glided back up to Eli. He lifted a brow. “What took you so long?”
I sighed. “Just woman stuff.”
He crumpled slightly. “Oh. Well that changes my plans.”
I didn’t like that comment at all. “No big deal, though. I took care of it.” I shot him a breezy smile. “Besides, I needed to have a word with my guard.”
Eli’s gaze hardened as he looked over my shoulder then back at me. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”
“He’s been so overbearing.” I paused, a flimsy idea forming in my head. “In fact, I…want to talk to you about something. Kind of related to that idea. Maybe we can go have a dance and chat about it? And then we can see where the night takes us.”
Eli wet his bottom lip, guiding me by the small of my back. “Let’s go upstairs, gorgeous.”
I stuck to his side, my skin prickling as I sensed Seven following. Eli paused near one of the attendants at the base of the stairs, whispered something into his ear, and then led me up. Our footsteps thumped softly against the carpet until we reached the landing.
“You can stay out here,” Eli said to Seven as we neared the bedroom with the pole area.
“I’ll be coming inside,” Seven said gruffly.
“No, Seven, I think you need to stay out here,” I spoke up, putting a little extra emphasis into my tone. I had to convince him somehow, without admitting my half-formed plan. “Eli and I have something we need to discuss in private.”
Seven looked at me sternly. “Not allowed.”
“What, do you think I’m speaking Czech?” I looked at him pointedly. It wasn’t the safe word, but maybe the small clue would give him an idea that this plan was intentional. Once I got Eli inside, I could work him for more information. But it wouldn’t work if Seven was there.
Seven backed down slightly. “Half hour.”
“How generous of you,” Eli said condescendingly, “but we’ll be taking all the time we want, thanks.” He pushed opened the door, gesturing for me to enter first, then sauntered in after me. He shut the door loudly behind him, exhaling a sigh of relief.
“Finally. I get you to myself.” He ran a hand through his blond hair, knocking the finger wave at the front askew, and rolled his neck in a slow circle. “Only took me how many weeks and how many thousands of dollars?” He led me over to the minibar.
“You know what they say about the best.” I kept my handbag clutched close as I came up to him, sliding my palm along his shoulders. “It’s fucking worth it.”
He cocked a smile, pulling open the fridge. “You better be.”
I pushed down a wave of revulsion. He pulled out a bottle of wine, then hunted down two glasses.
“Go sit over there,” he said brusquely. “I’ll get these ready.”
Alarms were going off again. No way in fuck I’d let him prepare my drink. I needed to get some intel, immediately. “I need your help, though. And I thought you wanted me to dance?”
“You’ll get my help. And the dance can wait. Just go sit on the bed and get comfortable.”
I drifted toward the bed, a bad feeling flowering in my gut. I glanced back at him a few times, watching him pour the wine. He angled his body suddenly, reaching for something else out of a cabinet. A few uninflated balloons tumbled out and to the floor, alongside whatever he’d been looking for. The drink preparation was taking too long. Something was off.
Just go along with it. Get the intel.
“Here we go.” He came toward the bed, his half-lidded gaze stuck on the cups. He held out the one in his left hand straight to me. “Drink up.”
“I’m not really thirsty right now,” I said, leaning to set the cup down.
“Come on,” he said sharply. “Let’s have a toast. To wonderful moments.” His smile was unsettling, laced with tension. I clinked my glass against his, and he watched me as I brought the drink to my lips.
Fake it. Just fake it.
“Come on, it’s your favorite wine,” he chided when I didn’t take a sip. “I bought it just for you.”
Fear trembled through me. If he’d put something in it, I had a small window of time before I passed out. Trojan was on data review, which meant he was listening live as I recorded. Surely he’d notice if something sounded amiss. At least, I prayed he would.
I did my best to take the tiniest sip possible. At the last second, he jostled into me, spilling my drink into my face. I gasped, getting way more of it down my throat than I’d intended.
“Sorry,” he said.
I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and cleaned myself up. “Well, cheers to that.” I tried to sound lighthearted, but I could hear a ticking clock. If he’d laced it, I had limited time. But maybe it was fine. Maybe he was just already drunk and acting weird.
I knew better. I needed to act fast. This will be worth it if the information you get will save your brothers.
“Listen. This is about my guard. I need to do something.” My whole chest grew tight as I struggled to get back on track. “I can’t get rid of him. And I remembered what you told me about the…fuck, what was their name?”
“The Fairchilds,” he supplied for me.
“Yes. Those guys. What did you do again?”
“I fucked them in the ass so hard they won’t be able to walk again for the ten years they’re going to prison.” A Cheshire Cat smile stretched across his lips. “Is that what you’re trying to do to that guard out there?”
“I need him off my back,” I insisted, the weight of my clutch in my lap reminded me of the recorders inside.
“Why don’t you fire him?” Eli asked.
“I can’t,” I blurted, my mind whirring in overtime to concoct enough believable details on the fly. “I didn’t hire him to begin with. I’m in a conservatorship. It’s just…it’s so fucked up. My parents, they never trusted me, and they put me into a mental institution when I was sixteen, and somehow they got their hands on all this money I made from my acting career—”
“You used to act?” His smile went wider.
“Just in Disney shit,” I lied. “Anyway, I can’t get a judge to dissolve this stupid conservatorship, and, it’s just—” I wracked my brain for more details from the celebrity news outlets that I liked to read on occasion “—all I’m trying to say is, it’s not my choice. I can’t fire him. But someone like you? You could help me.”
“Well this explains why he’s aways been tagging around.” Eli leaned closer.
“Tell me again what you did to those brothers,” I whispered. “I love to hear this story.”
My pulse throbbed beneath my skin as he launched into his hero’s tale. Please let the recorder work perfectly. No issues. No hiccups. I need this recording. “It’s all about the connections, gorgeous. And I’ve got plenty of them. Nobody liked those assholes, so I had an insider do a little digging. Allan and I were motivated to get them out of our sight, so we used the intel, took it to a friend at the SEC, and the rest is history.”
“So can’t you do something like that for my guard?” I asked.
He laughed. “I don’t think my contacts in the SEC are going to be able to help with your bodyguard unless he owns an investment firm or has been doing insider trading. But I’m sure I could cook something else up.”
I wilted against him. “Oh, thank you Eli.”
“Anything for you, gorgeous.” His hand was at my back.
“I just want you to do something that could put him in jail,” I went on. “Get him away from me. Like you did to those brothers.”
“The Fairchilds are going away for ten years,” he said haughtily.
“And they wouldn’t have gone without you working your magic, right?”
“Hell no.” He laughed. “What do I always say? It’s about the connections, baby.” He leaned close, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” I assessed the state of my organs, my responses, my mobility. Everything seemed normal. Or maybe…a little sluggish. “I do have to pee.”
When I stood up, he grabbed my wrist. “You just went.”
“It’s the wine.”
He tightened his grip on me and jerked me backward. Hard. I tumbled back onto the bed, panic streaking through me.
“Maybe you should just stay where you are,” he suggested, draping his arm around my shoulders. His heat coated me like slime. Deep inside, revulsion sputtered to life. But much closer to the surface was a desire to rest. Sluggishness coated my veins, prompting me to relax deeper into his embrace.
“Hmmm.” Now that I thought about it, I was tired. I didn’t need to pee. But the tiredness set off more alarms. I needed to get up. Get out. Tell Seven. I struggled to stand, but his grip around me tightened. My shoulders were crushed together, and I whimpered against the pain. But I couldn’t fight him.
“Hmm?” He laughed, and even through the descending haze I could hear the sarcasm. “Say it again Jordan. Louder this time.” Somehow, in my half-awake state I could tell that he was oozing with accomplishment. The prey was his.
“I can’t…”
“Didn’t think so.” He shoved my shoulder, and I flopped backward.
Eli’s unsettling smirk was the last thing I saw before my eyes drifted shut, and I welcomed the softness and the quiet.