Nothing to Win (Bombshells & Billionaires #17)

ONE

HER BEST FRIEND was nervous.

And her?

She wasn’t nervous.

Nu-uh, no way, Gianna Sear couldn’t be nervous.

The black glass and steel of the slick modern skyscraper wasn’t at all intimidating. Nooo… Her family had one just like it, and she’d been there… sporadically… ish. Maybe ten times her whole life. What a sad tribute was that?

Shanna’s upper arm rested on hers. “Are you scared?” her friend whispered. “You must be used to all this stuff, Gia, huh?”

A quiver in Shanna’s voice. Unusual. Unsettling. Please dig deep, Shanna. They needed to dig deep or both of them would crumble.

Don’t lose it. Stick with it. Her friend needed faith. In light of the emergency, Gia pulled on what was left of her own reserves. Bright. Happy. Determined. This would work. It would work.

Just getting in had been near impossible. Their presence in that building, on that floor, was an accomplishment. Not that it would get them anywhere if Spurn said no.

He wouldn’t. Where was her optimism? They’d got somewhere. Made progress. Which was more than they’d achieved elsewhere. Face it, the situation was desperate and neither of them would be there if another option existed. This had to work. Welcome to The Last Chance Saloon.

Goddamn Brogan Spurn. How did a Sear end up appealing to a Spurn? The Spurn?

This wasn’t going to go well.

To be honest, it already wasn’t going well.

They’d been sitting in an executive waiting area for more than two hours.

Appointment time meant nothing. Waiting and waiting didn’t quell nerves yet wait was all they could do.

If Spurn’s aim was to test their resolve in hopes they’d get bored and leave, he’d be waiting a long time.

Waiting.

Nothing happened.

A minute ticked by.

Another minute.

Time trudged on.

How many seconds had passed since she’d last checked the clock? That was her life now, measured second by excruciating second.

“Let me go talk to that woman again,” Gia said, surging, positively, to her feet.

Positive. Always positive.

The impeccable blonde at the head of the room was clearly in charge. The broad oak desk was her domain. A squad of five sat there with her pacing behind, issuing orders and answering calls on her headset.

Apparently, the full-height doors behind that desk needed guarding.

She didn’t see why. Right now, the behemoth’s office was empty.

Maybe it was the image; keeping up appearances.

Even empty it remained the pinnacle of Spurn Global.

The office meant more than the man? No, that couldn’t be it. He was the man. The only Spurn man.

The blonde stopped to focus on the elevator. The unexpected move froze Gia on the spot. Soundless, the doors glided open, releasing half a dozen men.

No introduction was necessary, not to the tallest man in the center of the gang.

Brogan Spurn.

Exactly the man they needed; exactly the one instinct—and her father—demand she shun.

Yet there they were. Petty office politics didn’t matter. Shanna mattered. Their cause was just.

Here’s hoping Brogan Spurn agreed.

Said friend leaped up and rushed toward the men en route to the double doors behind the blonde.

“Brogan!” Shanna called out like they were friends rather than strangers. “Brogan!”

By reputation, Spurn was not one for theatrics. Add to that the private executive floor probably wasn’t accustomed to overt displays of distress. Which would be why all eyes swung their way in time with the elevator clique stopping.

Spurn addressed the blonde. “She is not on my schedule,” he drawled. “And if this is a prank, you’re fired.”

The blonde didn’t speak, just raised the arm crooked near her body to extend a manicured index finger not at Shanna, but at her.

And there it was, everyone’s scrutiny.

Mortifying.

“That one is?” Spurn asked, no less impressed.

“She’s a Sear.”

Nothing covert about this anymore.

Deep in enemy camp, her nerve would have to hold. Hold. Hold.

“Show them in.”

Breaking away from the others, Spurn continued into his office. Whispers and mumbles rose when he departed the outer chamber. The pause felt practiced. How many times had Spurn blown his stack before his people learned to keep their speculation private?

Stuffy offices and flashy suits reminded her too much of her father and brother. It might be in her blood, but the uptight environment with its restrictive manners had never appealed. Their desperate cause was the only thing that drove her across the threshold of his flashy office.

“A Sear on my schedule, I expected your father or brother.” In the corner, back to them, Spurn poured three drinks from the Waterford. “The prized daughter didn’t enter my mind.”

“Do you start all your meetings with alcohol?” Gia asked.

“Meetings after a big win, yes,” he said, replacing the stopper and picking up two glasses to cross to her, ignoring Shanna. “We signed the Lang deal.”

Gia took the glass he put in her hand, failing to give him the desired reaction. Subdued and sinister, the triumph on his face expected something she couldn’t provide. Poor guy didn’t know she was oblivious to official Sear business. Official and unofficial. All business, Sear or not.

“Congratulations,” she said and his head tilted. “You despise my family and only deal with each other when one of you has something to gain over the other. That’s the extent of my knowledge on the subject. Petty games don’t interest me. That’s not why we came.”

“Does your father know you’re here?”

“No.”

The side of his mouth twitched. “Now I’m intrigued.”

Shanna got the other drink on Spurn’s way back to the decanter to retrieve his own.

Her friend spoke, “We’re here about Jarrod.”

The glass in his hand stopped rising. He mumbled something she didn’t hear, cast the liquor aside, and went to his desk to press a button on the phone.

“Get security in here.”

“No,” Shanna said in a panic, rushing to the desk, slamming down her drink. “You have to listen, he’s in trouble. He’s gone! They took him, someone, they took him. We have to find him!”

“I don’t have to do shit,” he said, returning to the alcohol.

“He’s your brother!” Shanna wailed.

“Half-brother, by blood only,” he said. “My mother divorced his sick fuck of a father decades ago.”

“Sick fuck,” Gia murmured.

She’d heard her father use the same phrase in reference to Spurn. More than just her father honestly.

“My family won’t help me!” Shanna was intent. “His won’t either. His father thinks he’s into drugs again and—”

Security flooded the room.

“These ladies are done,” Spurn said.

“Please!” Shanna called when a security agent got hold of her. “All we need is some money to track him down, that’s all!”

“Come with me, Miss,” the security guy said.

Another approached Gia; she was quick to brace. “You put your hands on me and I’ll put you on the floor.”

Yeah, take that, Big Boy, she hadn’t sweated through those self-defense classes for nothing.

“Please!” Shanna begged while the security agent tugged her toward the door. “Please, Brogan! We’ll do anything! Anything!”

“Wait,” Spurn said and the room froze. In the tense quiet, her eyes slid around to discover him scrutinizing her again. “Give me a minute alone with Miss Sear.”

“What?” Shanna asked. “No. No way. Whatever you want to say to her, you can say to me.”

“Wait outside and let us talk or you both leave with nothing.”

“It’s okay,” Gia said.

With security herding her out, Shanna had no choice except to leave.

Now it was her and Brogan Spurn.

Alone.