Cherise Sinclair - Edge of the Enforcer

“Not a good evening?” Abby didn’t sound surprised.

Everyone knew the hard-core sadist never stayed with a submissive.

I knew he didn’t. And his spending the night had seemed…wonderful. Special. Yay me. “His jets were revved after a scene with johnboy, so he called in my debt from last summer. He just wanted to…to get off.”

“That’s damned cold.” Rona curled her hand around Lindsey’s.

Lindsey’s eyes burned with tears. As the eldest, she’d always watched out for her two sisters and flighty mom. How strange—and wonderful—to be on the receiving end.

“Here you go, ladies.” The waitress handed out the drinks and gave the check to Rona.

When Lindsey dug in her purse for money, Rona shook her head. “My treat tonight.”

“You paid last time.”

“After you land a job, you can take us out to celebrate. All right?”

Pride warred with practicality before she nodded. “I guess so.”

“You sure had a wretched week.” Abby’s face filled with sympathy.

“At least the week is over.” Her smile felt a bit twisted. “And I’ll stay away from deVries.”

Rona straightened. “Did he hurt you?”

Oh spit, her declaration hadn’t come out right. “Just my feelings. Physically, he pushed my limits some, but”—and wasn’t it hard to admit?—“I liked it.”

“I know how that can be,” Abby said.

Rona nodded. “All right, then.” She picked up her drink in a toast. “Here’s to Lindsey finding a fantastic job.” As the glasses clinked together, Rona added, “Take your time finishing your drinks. I’m going to text Simon not to pick us up for a while.”

Close to an hour later, Rona’s husband appeared, striding across the room as if he owned the place. He didn’t, did he? Her head a bit muddled, Lindsey tried to remember. No, he had an international security business. No bars.

Of course, Abby’s husband, Xavier, probably owned some bars, and he’d look right at home in this swank establishment.

DeVries wouldn’t. Considering the faded leathers he wore, the bouncers might not even let him in. Nope. He was a total loser. Jerk. Asshole. She took another sip of her drink. No more thinking about the creep.

When Simon reached the table, he slid his fingers into Rona’s hair, tugged her head back, and the possessive kiss he gave her made Lindsey’s chest ache.

She loved knowing her friend had such an affectionate, territorial husband, even if it emphasized how alone Lindsey was. Yanking her gaze away, she bent over, looking for her purse. They shouldn’t keep their designated driver waiting, especially since he’d been nice enough to come inside to get them.

To her surprise, Simon dragged a chair from the next table and sat between her and Rona. He lifted Rona’s glass. “Should I even ask how many of those drinks you’ve had—let alone what they are?”

Rona smiled. “I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Simon took a sip and winced. “You have a point, lass.” His laugh was dark and easy, like a smooth scotch as opposed to deVries’s rotgut, harsh laugh.

So why did Lindsey crave deVries’s?

Simon set the drink down with a thump and turned to Lindsey.

She flushed as she was treated to the intent regard of one of Dark Haven’s most experienced Doms. “Rona says you’re job hunting,” Simon said.

Lindsey couldn’t help the accusing look she sent her friend. Discussions between the women were supposed to be secret. Well, okay, job hunting wasn’t particularly confidential, but still…

Simon’s lips quirked. “Maybe I can help your search, since Xavier and I know quite a few business owners. Have you attended college or taken any training?”

God, how could she explain? Her thoughts tangled as she backtracked through the lies she’d used. Should use. Had she told Rona—

“Lindsey?”

Under his dark, intimidating gaze, she blurted out the truth. “I have a master’s degree in social work.”

Abby gasped.

“I’d only been working for a couple of months when”— when I fled, leaving everything behind —“when I left Texas.” Just ahead of being arrested for murder.

Simon frowned. “With that kind of background, why are you a receptionist?”

“I…I don’t want to be found.”

“The divorce was bad? Did he try to hurt you?”

Divorce . Abby and Rona must have disclosed her lies. If only an angry ex-husband was all she was running from. She shivered. “Oh yes.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed…as did Rona’s.

Abby put a warm hand on Lindsey’s forearm.

Aw heck, she was making a hash of this. Lying wasn’t in her skill set. “I think eventually he’ll forget about me.” Her assumption was valid…since he was dead. Regrettably Victor’s brother was the police chief; he’d never forget. “Meantime, I’m playing it safe”—real safe. Even her name and social security number were falsified—“and not leaving a trail by requesting school records or résumés. Instead, I take crummy jobs.”

After another moment of study, Simon moved his chair, positioning himself knee to knee with Lindsey. He took her hands in his heavily callused ones. His eyes were steady. “Tell me about your work experience.”

She glared at Rona. “Next time you arrange an interview, would you set it up for before I’ve been drinking?”

Rona and Abby burst out laughing.

Simon’s fingers tightened. “Answer me.”

God, the low command sent a quiver down her to her toes. His gaze stayed on her face as she swallowed against the sudden dryness.

Be honest. Don’t put him on the spot with his friends. “Okay, it’s like this. I think I’m good at counseling, and people who worked with me said I was great.” On the other hand, she’d only had a couple of months’ experience. “As a receptionist, I did well enough, even though I hadn’t used some of the software. My boss says she’ll be happy to give me a reference.”

Her sister had scolded her before for being too modest. Had said she should never run herself down.

Someone else had no problem making her feel like scum. “Debt paid.” Damn deVries.

“I might not have much office experience; however, I learn quickly, I’m smart, I’m organized, and I’m good with people.” There, that sounded nice. Maybe too boastful?

Simon squeezed her fingers and let her go. “Very well laid out. I’ve seen how easily you handle the desk at Dark Haven.” His measured gaze moved over her, as if weighing her in his mind. “Let’s try this. My executive assistant needs to work part-time for a couple of weeks. She hasn’t found anyone in-house to assist her—at least not one she likes. Possibly she’d get along better with a smarter, less experienced person. Would you like a crack at it?”

Her ears followed his words; her brain lagged behind. The fact her lungs ceased working didn’t help. After a second, she wheezed, “Did you just offer me a job?”

“This is the first time I’ve interviewed someone in a bar, let alone an applicant who wasn’t remotely sober.” His mouth curved up. “Yes, Lindsey, I offered you the chance to see if you can impress my admin. If you can’t, no harm done. Either way, I’ll help find you something. However, this would bring you in some money while you’re searching for a better match.”

“It’ll work,” she promised him and a smiling Rona. It will damn well work.

Two hours later, a horrifying thought brought her upright in bed.

DeVries worked for Simon.

On Friday, deVries stepped off the elevator at the eleventh floor and walked around the corner. He’d gone straight to the Demakis offices after a long week of bodyguarding the prissiest, bitchiest movie star he’d ever met. And he’d met quite a few. He’d thought he was fairly easygoing, well, not really—but Jesus, by the time the week ended, he’d considered paying her stalker to take her out.