Chief of Perversion_a power broker novel Read online

  “Hello?” It’s Jeanie, one of our weekend dispatchers.

  “It’s Georgia. I need to speak to Sandy. It’s urgent.”

  “Hang on, I’ll put you straight through.”

  A few seconds later, the line clicks. “Gee. What’s going on?”

  “Someone broke into my apartment yesterday, and I think I might have been compromised.”

  “Shit.”

  My gut churns hard with suspicion and worry. Did Katie go back to Jim? Did she tell him I helped her? “That mutual friend I brought in a month ago. Is she still at Amy’s House?”

  “Hang on a sec, and let me check.” I hear clicking in the background. “Yes, she’s still there.” Relief flows through me. “Do you think she has something to do with it? If he were going to do something, I would have expected it to come much sooner.”

  “No, you’re right, if it were him, I’m sure he wouldn’t have waited this long.”

  “I’m going to pull you from the rotation just to be safe. Do you want me to set you up with a place, or do you have somewhere you can lie low?”

  Fuck. No work means too much time to live inside my head. That’s never a good thing. But it’s protocol. And really, if it’s not Katie’s fuck of a husband, it’s possible it’s related to some other person I’ve brought to Amy’s House. Or, it could be completely random, and I’m off work for no good reason.

  “I can sort something out.”

  “Okay, good. Let’s give it a week or two and see where things stand.”

  “Sure. And can you send someone to move the van? It ought to be fine, but…”

  “No problem. Just make sure you take care of yourself and stay safe.”

  “Will do.”

  I end the call and slip into my jeans. I really want a shower, but that can wait. First, I need to go in search of some coffee so I can think.

  I smell it as soon as I open the bedroom door and follow the heavenly scent down the hall into a large kitchen full of what looks like every appliance and gadget ever invented.

  I clear my throat and Heath turns around. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”

  I try to smile, but I’m just not feeling it. “I slept.”

  “Fair enough. Coffee?” he asks.

  “Oh, God, yes.”

  He reaches into a cupboard, pulls out a huge mug, and fills it with lovely, lovely coffee, and hands it to me.

  “Thank you.”

  I shuffle across the room and sit down before taking my first sip. Heaven.

  He brings his own coffee over and takes the seat opposite me. “You drink. I’ll talk, okay?”

  I nod, then take a long sip.

  “I’ve arranged for a new door and locks, as well as a crew to go into your apartment and take care of the mess.”

  Part of me wants to be angry at him for being so presumptuous and paternalistic, but damn if it doesn’t feel good having someone take care of things for me for once.

  “That’s really nice of you. And thanks for letting me stay the night. Once I’m finished my coffee, I’ll head back to my place and—”

  “You can stop right there. Even with a new door and locks, your apartment is not just uninhabitable, it’s not safe. I think you should stay here until we can find you a safer place to live.”

  What the fuck? “Look here, Heath. I appreciate you coming to my aid, but if accepting some help from you somehow means you get to control my life, you can fire your crew and I’ll take care this shit myself, just like I did last time.”

  His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “You’ve been broken into before?”

  “Yeah, but not like—“

  His eyes narrow and he leans in. “Not like, what?”

  “Never mind. Thanks for the coffee and everything else. But I think you’ve done enough, so I’ll be going.”

  “Georgia, wait. I’m concerned okay?”

  “Why?” I’m genuinely confused. This is someone I barely know beyond how amazing his cock feels inside my body.

  “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I just am. And I want to help. I’d prefer it if you’d stay here.”

  “I want to live in my own apartment.”

  He pauses a moment. “Okay. But I need you to give me a week to get everything in order. Can you do that?”

  Can I handle a week in close quarters with him? I guess I’m about to find out. “One week. Then I’m moving back into my own space, regardless of what state it’s in.”

  28

  Heath

  If there’s one thing I’m learning very quickly about Georgia, it’s that she’s bloody stubborn and to pick my battles carefully.

  This one I can give in on, because if she insists on living in that apartment, I can’t stop her. But I can make it safer.

  When I walk into my office, my assistant is just setting a mug of coffee on my desk. “Thanks, Nicole. Emergencies only for the next couple of hours, okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  As soon as the door snicks shut, I pick up the phone and call Grant.

  He picks up on the second ring. “Heath, what do you need, man?”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “Oh please. Since when have you ever called me during business hours to be sociable?”

  Since never. “Busted.” I waste no time giving him a run-down of the information I need.

  “On it. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks.” I disconnect and start returning phone calls.

  By the time Grant calls back a few hours later, I’m nearly finished wading through financials.

  “Well?” I ask.

  “Okay, it took some digging, but turns out the apartment building is owned by Fred Sieger, if you can fucking believe it. But it’s not a Sieger Holdings property.”

  Fuck. Me. When Grant asked me to keep my eyes and ears open in real estate, I didn’t think there was any real chance I would actually have business dealings with this slimy turd. But, if it’s not a Sieger Holdings property, maybe…

  “Thanks, Grant. Any suggestions how I might go about purchasing the building?”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Let’s just say I’m doing a good deed for which I will no doubt be punished at some point.”

  “Okay, so a woman.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He chuckles. “You didn’t have to. Georgia?”

  “Shut up and give me something I can use.”

  “Okay. While, ultimately, he owns the property, he’s managed to keep himself a few layers removed from it. That tells me he doesn’t want to be connected to it. So, I’d keep that little nugget back as the ace up your sleeve if he tries to get you to pay more than fair market value.”

  “Thanks, Grant.”

  “Anytime.”

  Just as I hang up the phone, Nicole knocks and pops her head in.

  “Sorry to bother you, but you’ve got a call on line two from someone called Georgia? She’s very…insistent.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take it.”

  I pick up the handset and press the button. “Georgia, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “My apartment. It’s empty. It’s completely fucking empty.”

  Fuck. “I thought you were going to rest today.”

  “I was. In my own apartment. But it’s empty. Everything is gone. Everything.”

  “Only temporarily. Your unit needs a lot of repairs, and then it needs to be cleaned and painted. Once the crews are finished, everything that can be salvaged will be brought back. Okay?”

  “No. Not okay. Where’s my stuff?”

  “Georgia, enough. It’s safe and it’ll be brought back as soon the paint is dry. I promise.”

  “Don’t you understand? I need my stuff. I need clothes. I can’t deal with this.”

  “Stay where you are, I’m on my way.”

  29

  Georgia

  Somewhere deep down, I know he’s not really being a dick, that he’s actually tr
ying to help, but being told to stay put makes me want to leave.

  Except this is my home, and I have nowhere else to go.

  I park my ass on the floor in a corner out of the way and quietly watch workers do their worker stuff, getting my apartment livable.

  I’m surprised when Heath crouches next to me and slides a finger along my arm. “Hey.”

  I study his face for a moment. I had expected him to come storming in, but he looks worried, not angry.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you okay?”

  As okay as I can be, given the circumstances, I suppose, so I nod.

  “Let’s go back to my place and let these people do their jobs without an audience.”

  I don’t want to go back to his place, but I’m practical enough to know it’s really my only option. He holds out his hand and I take it, allowing him to help me to my feet.

  “What about my clothes?”

  “What’s left, I’ll have cleaned and sent to my apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t think about your clothes when I was making arrangements.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you had lunch?”

  “No.” Nor breakfast.

  “How about we go find somewhere for lunch first.”

  “Sure.” I’m hungry and it’ll put off going back to his place a little longer.

  We end up at a quiet little bistro around the corner from Heath’s apartment.

  After we order food and our drinks arrive, Heath ducks his head a little and catches my gaze.

  “So, what did you mean last night about your break-in being an occupational hazard?”

  Here we go. I should have known. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut last night, but I guess shock isn’t really known to help people act wisely.

  “Maybe I sit around on my ass all day eating bonbons and watching daytime television while I live off my trust fund, and someone came looking for my stash of bonbons.”

  “I’m serious, Georgia.”

  I take a sip of my drink. “I do have an actual job which I booked the day off for the wedding, but sometimes the universe is a total dick, and I got called in.”

  “What kind of job, short of brain surgeon, is more important than showing up to your dad’s wedding?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything. I’m perfectly content with everyone in my father’s circle believing I’m nothing but a spoiled, irresponsible trust-fund baby.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “I don’t care what you believe.”

  His expression softens a bit. “You honestly intended to go to the wedding?”

  I want to tell him to fuck off again, but for some stupid reason I can’t articulate, I want him to believe me. “Contrary to popular belief, yes, I honestly had every intention of going to both the wedding and the reception. And there is no way I’ll ever be able to convince my father otherwise, so I just don’t bother trying.”

  “So…finding you in the bar—”

  “Was one-hundred-percent me downing some encouragement. And since you’ve opened that night up for discussion, what were you doing in the bar?”

  “Killing some time during photos and being pissed off at you.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  Our food comes before I put my foot in it and start asking questions I really don’t want to know the answer to.

  “If you really meant to attend, then why did you hook up with me instead of blowing me off?”

  Fuck. I really don’t want to do this. But maybe better here in public than alone at his place. “Because I’d had an epically shit day and I needed to feel.”

  “Does this happen often? Where you go to a bar and pick up a random guy to fuck your epically shit day away in the bathroom.”

  “Fuck you, Heath. Just fuck you. I’m starving, so I am going to sit here, and finish my lunch which you can pay for, but you’ve crossed the line and I will not talk about this anymore.”

  I lower my gaze and focus on the plate in front of me.

  “Georgia, I’m sorry. I can only plead the caveman defense.”

  I don’t answer. I’m still feeling pretty stung by his words.

  Mercifully, he doesn’t say anything else and I finish my lunch in relative peace.

  30

  Heath

  “Promise me one thing,” I say as Georgia lays her cutlery neatly on her empty plate.

  “What?”

  “You’ll continue to stay at my place until your apartment is habitable, or the week is out, whichever comes first.”

  “No. I’ll move into a hotel if I have to. And not yours. Maybe The Plaza. I’ve got a nice big trust fund. I could hole up there for years.”

  “You could, but you’d have to register under your own name.”

  “Nobody’s going to go looking for me at The Plaza.”

  “Maybe not, but why run the risk and spend that kind of money in the process? Look, I crossed the line, and I’m sorry. I can’t promise I won’t do it again, because sometimes we don’t know there’s a line until it’s too late. But I will try to live and let live. Leave you to your business while I get on with mine. Bottom line is, I want you to be safe, and right now, I think the best way to achieve that is for you to stay with me.”

  She’s silent so long, I start to think she’s gone back to totally ignoring me. But I’ve already made the mistake of pushing when it’s clear she needs to do things her own way in her own time, and right now, I can afford to be patient.

  Once I’ve paid the check and the server leaves, Georgia leans forward and catches my eye. “I appreciate your concern for my safety, and as much as I want another option, staying with you is the wisest choice for me, right now. Thank you.”

  Relief flows through me, because if she was going to insist on staying at a hotel, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to convince her to at least stay at mine.

  As soon as I see her safely to my place, I go see Grant. I need some perspective and he’s the only person I can just drop in on unannounced.

  Grant opens the door and motions me inside. “I’d offer you coffee, but you look more like you could use some alcohol.”

  “You have no idea.”

  I take my usual seat in the living room as he heads to the kitchen. Moments later he comes back with a couple of beers and hands me one. “What’s going on?” he asks as he flops in the chair next to me.

  “Georgia. She’s driving me crazy.”

  “What’s she done now?”

  I twist the cap off and take a long sip. The cool liquid slides down my throat. “It’s not so much what’s she’s done. Not this time. It’s just…I don’t know how to get through to her.”

  “Why do you need to?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. But there’s something about her I can’t seem to ignore. Like she’s broken somewhere deep inside, and I have this need to…”

  “Fix her. Because that’s how you roll—you’ve got this pathological urge to fix things for the people in your life. I would have thought by now, you’d know there are some people who just can’t be fixed.”

  “You’re kinda sounding like her dad. He’s always portrayed her as a spoiled, selfish super-bitch, and I bought into it because her actions always seemed to back that up. But, now I’m not so sure. I was of the understanding she’s a lady of leisure who’s squandered her trust fund, which would explain her living conditions. But no. She has a fucking job. The trust fund has only recently been touched, to buy our parents a fucking wedding gift, no less.”

  I lift the bottle to my lips and chug down a couple swallows.

  “Jesus. She’s alone and she won’t let anyone in. I thought I was making some headway at lunch, but I pushed too hard, and she withdrew even deeper.”

  I take another pull of my beer as I collect my thoughts. “It’s like something’s broken between Georgia and her dad. But it’s more than broken. I can’t tell if George actually hates her, or if he’s just clos
ed off and completely given up on her. There’s a lot of unresolved issues bubbling below the surface, and at some point, they’re going to erupt, and I worry my mom is going to be collateral damage.”

  “Sounds to me like your concern is for your mother.”

  “I saw the hurt in Georgia’s eyes the morning after the wedding when her dad called me ‘son’. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I was pissed at her, and didn’t care. But now I’m seeing things from Georgia’s side, and…I’ve been blessed with the unconditional love of two parents, even if they didn’t love each other. I can’t imagine coping with a parent who has nothing good to say about me.”

  “I think you know exactly why you can’t ignore her. You may be ruthless when it comes to business, but you’ve got a soft heart.”

  Jesus, when it comes to Georgia, my heart is definitely the only thing that’s soft.

  31

  Georgia

  By the time Heath gets home that night, I’ve had a lot of time to think and process our lunch conversation, and it’s clear I need to talk to him. I need to trust him.

  “Something smells good,” he says as he shrugs out of his jacket and toes off his shoes.

  “It’s just spaghetti and salad. From scratch,” I add. I don’t know what makes me say that. He doesn’t care if I cooked it from scratch, and it’s not like I need to impress him. Well, except maybe I kind of still feel judged.

  “What a treat. I don’t get many home-cooked meals.”

  I give him a wan smile. I hate having to talk about things. And this is going to be an uncomfortable conversation. For me, at least. Best get it over with. “So, I…um…I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay. Can we do it while we eat?”

  “Sure. It’s ready. Did you want to change or eat right away?”

  He looks intently at my face, then says, “Let’s go eat.”

  A few minutes later, our plates are loaded and we’re sitting across from each other. “So, what’s up?”

  I take a small mouthful of salad and chew slowly as I think about what I want to say. Heath gets up and grabs a beer from the fridge. “Do you want one?”