Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(3)

“Hello, Doyle Turner.”

“Is this my psycho Dom buddy?”

Doyle laughed. “Tilly. Where are you? Why are you calling me from a local number?”

“Because I’m sort of local now. Part-time, at least. I came over to the Dark Side.” As he ate, she gave him the short version of the events that had brought her to LA.

“I’m guessing you’re still here in LA?” she asked.

“For right now I am.”

“Goodie. I guessed right.”

“Why do I have a feeling this isn’t a purely social call, my dear?”

“Because it’s not. You still working in the addiction field, correct? Sober companion?”

“I am. Why?” He’d mentioned to very few people—Tilly being one of them—that in addition to his job at the rehab center he took on private sober companion gigs.

“It’s…ah…delicate. Not involving me or Cris or Landry. Client of a business manager friend-slash-associate. Do you still handle…high-profile clients?”

“Depends on what’s needed, the timeframe, and the fee they can pay.”

“Can you meet with us tonight to hear us out? I’m guessing that if you can’t help us, at least you might be able to refer us to someone trustworthy who can.”

He was intrigued. Tilly wasn’t one for unnecessary drama. “Can’t tell me anything more than that, huh?”

“Not without an NDA, sorry. Not by my choice, but that was what was requested by the other party. You know me, I keep a confidence. Please? For me? At least to listen and possibly advise. And we’ll buy you dinner. Sushi. I remember how much you love it.”

He thought about it for a moment. This was Tilly. It’d be nice to see an old friend from Sarasota. “Sure. For you, anything. Give me a time and address.” She did. “So why me?” She had piqued his curiosity, for sure.

“Because I trust you, for starters. Also, from what I know, I suspect your more Domly charms might be needed for this one, if you take the case.”

“I don’t do pro Domming.”

“No, I just meant your Dom ’tude. We’ll talk tonight.”

“Okay.” After ending the call, Doyle tried not to ponder it too deeply. Because the more he thought about it, the more intrigued he was.

Why was Tilly involved, exactly?

This could be interesting.

As he sat and ate his lunch, he wondered about that. He hadn’t realized Tilly was working out here part-time, much less what she’d been doing lately. He knew Landry and Cris had an office out here, although he had heard vague details about their family growing on the heels of tragedy. She didn’t discuss her professional life at all on social media.

If nothing else, it’d be good to see her and her men again.

Plus, hello, free dinner. He’d never turn his nose up at that.





Chapter Two


Fortunately, Doyle didn’t have any late afternoon clients. That allowed him plenty of time to swing by home and drop his leftover pizza off in the fridge, shower, change, and get back on the road to make the meeting in time.

He hated LA traffic. Had he thought Sarasota was crazy during snowbird season?

Ha!

What a laugh.

I miss Sarasota.

Not words he ever imagined himself uttering when he first moved to LA, to be honest. When he’d left, he’d seen it as a new start, a challenge.

Then the novelty wore off.

As he slowly made his way toward the office address Tilly gave him, the traffic already growing thick despite it not being rush hour yet, he let his mind wander. If Tilly was calling him in, and she worked for a movie production company with Trevor Nichols, that was…big. He remembered hearing some scuttlebutt a couple of years earlier regarding the guy down in Florida, but he’d never put things together or assumed he knew the other people, even though they’d looked vaguely familiar from the few brief TV clips he’d seen.

Actually, it turned out he had known them, casually, through the Suncoast Society munches, now that Tilly had filled in those blanks.

It’s a really f*cking small world.

Hence why he hadn’t tried harder to enter the kink community here in LA. One of the things that allowed him to command such a premium price for his SC services was the fact that nobody knew who the hell he was. Less chance of scuttlebutt about his client’s sobriety reaching the gossip sites if no one knew who he was.

He wanted to keep it that way.

When he finally reached the address nearly thirty minutes early—miracle of miracles—he headed upstairs to the office. When he walked in, even before the receptionist could greet him, Tilly walked out of one of the offices, saw him, and let out a squee before rushing over to engulf him in a hug.

“Dude! It’s so good to see you!”

He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. He remembered all too well the harsh, sad shell of a woman she’d been following Cris’ sudden departure. This was the “old” Tilly, back with a playful vengeance. He’d met Landry and Cris a couple of years ago when Doyle had briefly visited Sarasota between clients. He’d heard all about those events through mutual friends, though.

Fortunately, it seemed everything had worked out, that fate had finally smiled on Tilly.