Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Barrett
She’s right. I’m asking questions that only serve my curiosity, and this is a job.
“Fair enough.” But I don’t let her have the space she created. I lean into her, replacing my hand on her skin. “It’s time to make the rounds.”
She wants business only, then that’s what we’ll do. Finishing my drink, I set the empty glass next to hers before settling her hand on my arm and steer her directly to her closest coworker.
“Sage? I didn’t expect you to be here.” A tall woman with fake, too bright, blonde hair smiles at me rather than Sage.
Her husband’s bland face takes us in as we approach and he sighs.
I recognize her face from the sign outside of the empty home I used to kill the last target before Sage’s brother-in-law.
The job where Sage spotted me. I made this woman’s life hell for about a week, but she still managed to sell that property two weeks later.
I imagine she thinks twice about using her vacant properties for her affairs now.
“Figured I should experience the gala at least once in my life.” Sage’s hold on my arm tightens the longer the blonde stares at me. Are you sure this is all business, pet?
“I’m Madeline,” she says, enunciating the ine rather than pronouncing her name with an in as some might. Removing her hand from her husband’s arm, she extends it toward me to take. Not shake. But shake it is what I do. Her smile pinches when she pulls her hand back.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Madeline, this is Ben.” Sage tilts her body until her chest brushes my arm. For someone who didn’t want my attention and declared this is all business, she’s staking her territory plainly. Madeline doesn’t miss the subtle stamp of possession.
“I’m Jacob.” Her husband sends Madeline a glare and inserts himself in front of her. I can imagine the environment in their home. Cold, dim, and separate bedrooms.
I shake Jacob’s hand.
“Sage hasn’t brought you around the office.” Madeline waits until her husband resumes his place.
I don’t answer her as she didn’t ask a question.
“You must be her best kept secret.”
“No secret, Madeline.” Sage’s tone lowers with annoyance. “It’s just a date.”
“A free date.” Madeline chuckles behind her knuckles.
Sage steps back, waving a hand down her dress. “Hardly.” It doesn’t matter that I bought the dress, and even if Sage had, she has a point.
I set my hand on Sage’s hip and pull her closer. “Your face has made quite an appearance around the city lately. I recognize you from your signs.” The bright, fake blonde hair is impossible to miss.
“I know. Life is crazy. We are in high demand. I even offered some of the files to Sage, but she just wouldn’t help take the load off.” The woman’s eyes light with too much glee for that statement to be true.
“I’m not about to complain.” I look down at her as I speak. “I intend to monopolize most of Sage’s time in the future.” She meets my gaze and only I can see her lips separate the barest of cracks with her tiny gasp.
“Well, isn’t that cute.” I’ve lost Madeline’s interest, but she isn’t who I really need to speak with anyway.
She’s just the first stop around the room and the step below their boss.
Liam Morrison of Morrison and Harper Real Estate.
Dorian Campbell’s go-to real estate agent.
While I have Sage under my thumb, I’ll use this time to find out exactly how connected her boss is with Campbell to see if this is a viable way to get to him.
One can discern more from direct observation in an unguarded moment than generic reports.
“If you’ll excuse us.” I move us past her and continue around the room, nodding at those openly staring. This event caters to mostly the same people each year, and Sage is a new face. With me on her arm.
We have similar conversations, albeit less hostile, with her other coworkers. Only Madeline seems to ride a high horse everywhere she goes. And their boss.
“Sage! I’m so happy you changed your mind, although I’m surprised.” Morrison closes the distance as he sees us heading his way.
“I suppose I shouldn’t knock it until I try it. Isn’t that how it goes?” Sage no longer has the tight grip on my arm, not seeing her boss as the same threat as Madeline.
“Yes, it is.” He thrusts his hand toward me and raises a brow. “Liam Morrison.”
“Ben Wells. Nice to meet you.”
“I hope you both have a pleasant evening.” Morrison glances over Sage’s shoulder before excusing himself with a nod. I follow his gaze, seeing Campbell waiting for him near the bar.
“Is your boss friends with Dorian Campbell?”
Sage looks over her shoulder. “Yes. They play golf together at least once a week, and Liam handles all of his real estate.”
“No one else in the company?”
Slowly, she turns her gaze back on me, soft eyes narrowing slightly. “Sometimes Liam will pull someone in if he’s busy, but only until he’s free to take over. Now, do I get to ask a question?”
“No. Does he ever pull you in?” I graze my fingers over her silky skin on her lower back.
“No. But I don’t exactly make myself available for that. I like my workload the way it is.” Her narrowed gaze bores into me, attempting to see past my words and decipher my plans.
I hold back my grin. “Guess all you want, pet, I’m not telling you any details.”
“I’d rather know what I’m involved in then be blind to it if something backfires.”
Unfortunately, she has a point, but, “It won’t backfire.”
She shakes her head. “You know, I believe it was arrogance, not curiosity, that killed the cat.”
My grin breaks through. “Perhaps, pet.” The evening is young, giving us plenty of opportunities to visit with the interested parties later. Steering her toward the dance floor, I intend to make us a couple worthy of speaking to. The band is playing, but the floor is empty.
“What are you doing?” Her steps slow and she looks back and forth over each shoulder.
“We’re dancing.”
“No, we are not.” Her breath comes out as a small, panicked laugh.
I pause, pulling her in front of me at the edge of the parquet-tiled section in front of the stage. Setting one of her hands on my shoulder, I hold it there and use my other hand to tilt her chin up. I enjoy touching her—too much.
Her gasps are barely audible and the shiver running over her skin would be difficult to notice if I wasn’t paying close attention. They’re the smallest signs that I affect her. I can use that, or I can feed that.
“We’re dancing, pet. You don’t have a choice.”
“I’m stepping on your feet,” she says spitefully and allows her hand to rest where I’ve put it.
I laugh. She’s a fucking delight to be with.
“Do your worst.” The little warrior with strong opinions and values is brave enough to blackmail an assassin and rise to the challenge of working for me while keeping confident grace in the set of her shoulders.
Sage has piqued my interest more than wise under the circumstances, but I’ll lament the issue later.
Right now, I have a gorgeous woman to show off on an empty dance floor.