Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(91)

"Do you think it's easier for women to forgive evil from their men than the other way around?"

Minka sighs. "Most definitely. Women are ruled by their vaginas, and vaginas have no morals."

"Men are ruled by their dicks, and dicks have no morals either."

"Yeah, men will f*ck anyone, but love is different. Dicks don't come with all the feelings and hormonal shit our vaginas do. Human dating rituals are very complicated, and I skipped a lot of those classes in high school. I just know men get freaked out by scary women like women don't get freaked by scary men."

"I suspect our figurative balls are bigger than theirs, and they find that intimidating."

"Probably. My figurative balls can't fit into most rooms."

The whiskey hits me, and I laugh loudly at her comment. Minka orders a round of nachos and moves us to a booth.

"I worry my figurative balls will scare off Brad," I say once we're sitting away from the kitchen and dance floor.

"And you're thinking about keeping him?"

"I shouldn't think that, but he's under my skin," I mumble, scratching at my arm as if to dig out Brad. "I thought a night of hot f*cking would help get me past this feeling. I was wrong."

"Blame your vagina. They're horrible decision makers."

My mind swims from the liquor, and her vagina talk makes me laugh too much. By the time the nachos arrive, I'm starving.

"Brad's mother hates me," I tell Minka, who's studying the menu. "She wishes he liked you."

"Can you blame her? I'm very likable."

"I wish I could be more likable."

Minka frowns at me. "Do you really, or are you just saying that because you're drunk?"

"I don't know."

"Do you really want to change? I thought you were pretty solid with being cold and scary."

"I am, but I don't think Brad is. I know his mom isn't. Nell barely acknowledges me."

"Nell is shy. She thinks people are judging her, so she hides in plain sight."

Patting her hand, I smile drunkenly. "You're good at reading people."

"Yes, I am. You are too. You're nicer than you let on too. Like when you lied to Darla that day at the aquarium about your lost love. Why do that, if you're not secretly a sweetie pie?"

Recalling that single act of kindness, I explain, "Darla knew what she wanted, but Troy scared her. I simply scared her back in his direction." I pause while studying my chip. "I guess I am a sweetie pie."

Minka watches me for a long time while I lean back and rest my head on the back of the booth. My gaze focuses on the crowd of happy people. Forever watching, rather than participating, I'm always the outsider.

"If I was you," Minka says finally, "I'd play this thing out with Brad. Don't think about his mom or if he can handle the real you. No, instead you ought to enjoy every damn minute because you've faced death a bunch of times, and this could be your only reward. If I met a guy that I wanted the way you want Brad, I'd hold onto him. I deserve good shit in life, and so does Little Maven. Leave your sins in the past where they belong."

Watching her through my alcohol haze, I smile. "Having a girlfriend is fun."

"Yeah, but I'm planning on having only a select few. Too many vaginas would likely make me go homicidal."

"You, me, Harlow, and Darla."

Minka thinks about Rafael's wife and Troy's woman. She nods at the idea of them making the grade. I keep smiling because I'm too drunk to control my mouth. If Brad were here right now, I'd likely tell him how beautiful he is and how much I like him. After saying all sorts of stupid stuff, I'd suck on his lips until we were naked. Even enticed by the naked part, I plan to keep my distance until the trip is complete and he's safely back in Houston.





17


Brad

Fiercely Mine

The Ramsey Security team offers a private jet for the flight to New York City. They claim it belongs to a friend. I don't ask questions though Nell does. She worries about the favors we're calling in, and what they'll cost her. Marx only laughs and says she watches too many movies. He loves the idea of these badass people with their killer contacts.

I hate flying and take pills for airsickness and nerves. Imagining Saskia traveling the world, I can't have her see me freaking out over turbulence or a busy airport. Lawrence warned me not to play a part, but the real Brad is a chickenshit too often. The Brad needing to woo Saskia fears nothing. I'll lie if it means I get the girl in the end.

We arrive in the city hours later and check into the hotel. My first concern is how closely Saskia's and my rooms are situated. During the flight and arrival at the hotel, she refuses to make eye contact and keeps her distance. I'm not fooled, though.

The interviews take place in one of the hotel's conference rooms. The publicist and Mom organize everything. All I have to do is sit next to Marx and answer the same questions from each reporter.

Saskia catches my eye. Wearing a white sweater, beige leggings, and brown knee-high boots, she's the picture of elegance. I can't look away, even when the first reporter enters. I only want to watch Saskia own the room.

The questions are pretty standard.

"What have you done the last ten years?"