Close Cover (Masters and Mercenaries #16)(17)

“I’ll follow you,” she told Whiskey. “This is too full. I don’t want you to spill it.”

Whiskey gave her a one-armed shrug and started back out into the fray. Lisa followed along, her feet aching. Maybe she should have given up the daiquiri. She wasn’t as sure on her stripper heels as Whiskey was. She’d made it halfway across the floor when she suddenly found herself blocked by a large man in a softball uniform that proclaimed he was one of the mighty Rebels of Caruth LTD. She wasn’t sure what he was rebelling against, but he was in her way.

“Excuse me,” she said politely as the strobes began to flash.

“Excuse you,” he slurred. “Teacher lady, I need a new drink. I wanna round of Fruit Loops shots for my buddies. Why are you dressed like a teacher lady? Reminds me of Mrs. Hoover. Third grade. She was a bitch.”

Okay. “I will get those to you in a few minutes.”

She started to go around him.

“Wait, teacher lady. I need a drink,” he said. “Do you know who I am?”

He was an asshole. “Nope, but I’m busy and I’ll get to you in a moment.”

She started moving again, walking around him and catching a glimpse of the table ahead. Was that…?

“Hey, lady, I said I want drinks for my friends,” the dude who looked way too old to be in a softball uniform insisted. “My dad owns this place and he won’t be happy you ignored me.”

He reached for her, but that was the moment the strobe light went off and everything seemed to go in slow motion. One minute he seemed to be going for the drink in her hand and then in a flash, he was stumbling, his hand finding her breast.

She heard a shout over the din of music, and glitter started to pour down from the stage. It probably should have hit Miss Mischief, as she’d been announced, who was shaking her thing for all she was worth, but one of two fans picked up a stream and blasted it straight into Lisa’s face. The drink in her hand dropped and she watched in abject horror as Softball Uniform tripped and slipped, and before she knew it he was taking her down to the floor with him.

The floor that was covered in glitter and potentially heretofore undiscovered hemorrhagic fevers. One minute she was standing up, tall and proud and confident in her ability to mix a proper daiquiri, and the next she was a glitter-covered patient zero with a large man on top of her.

“Hey, now this is more like it.” He reeked of beer and sweat.

“Get off me.” She’d just said the words when the man was lifted off her and tossed to the side.

“Are you all right?” a familiar voice asked as Remy dropped to one knee in front of her.

She was fine. Probably.

She started to get to her knees, but softball dude had gotten up before her.

“Hey, Teacher Lady,” he began, getting back into her space.

“I am not a teacher,” she growled and pushed him back.

He stumbled a bit and then somehow managed to smash right into the cold buffet, sending shrimp and salad and oysters flying. Some of those suckers seemed to have caught air and soared out into the crowd.

She slipped in shrimp cocktail and went down again, her heels wobbling underneath her. She hit the floor hard, looking up at the ceiling and wondering if anyone ever dusted. At least she’d stopped moving.

But a loud howl signaled all was not right in her world. The lights suddenly came up and Lisa realized everyone was staring at her. Well, the people who weren’t trying to help the dude in the softball uniform. He was lying to her right and his arm seemed to be at the wrong angle. He screamed louder than Mystikal could rap.

“Lisa, are you all right?” Remy was down on one knee.

“I dropped your drink.” She didn’t move to get up. Nope. There was no reason to. She was covered in perfectly made daiquiri, man sweat, and glitter that might have gotten into her lungs, and there was zero reason to get up. She could die right here. And she knew it had been Remy who’d ordered the drink because it only made sense. Bad things happened to her when he was around. “Jazz can make you another one.”

“Don’t worry about that right now, chère.” His blue eyes looked her over with what seemed like genuine concern.

A whole bunch of guys she thought were probably McKay-Taggart employees stared down at her.

And then Jai was staring at her. “Jesus, Lisa, that’s Billy Caruth. His dad owns this place.”

She didn’t move. She might have gone a little numb, actually. “I’m fired, aren’t I?”

She suddenly felt strong arms lifting her up and she was cradled against Remy’s big body.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re right for this job,” Jai replied with a frown.

Story of her life.

Jazz strode up, shaking her head. She counted out a bunch of ones. “Don’t spend it all in one place, princess.”

Forty bucks. She’d made forty bucks in seven hours, would probably get sued by a douchebag, and now had to deal with the hottest man she’d ever met.

All in all, not the worst day of her life, and that was pretty shitty when she thought about it.





Remy looked down at her as they made it to the parking lot. She didn’t seem to weigh a thing in his arms. It took all he had not to crack a smile. She looked completely shocked, her eyes fixated on someplace in the distance, her hands clutching a bunch of sad, crumpled ones. Her sweet face was covered in glitter of all colors. Somehow she’d gotten a napkin stuck to her hair. He was not going to mention that it made her look a bit like a unicorn.