Risky Play (Red Card #1)(26)

He let out a sigh like I was the annoying, angry one. “You can go home, I’ll clean up. And Mackenzie?” My body did not react with chills. It didn’t. I rebuked said chills and decided it was just nippy in his house . . . with the heat on . . . “Stay away from Jagger, alright? He’s not . . . fuck.” He growled. “Just . . . you’re my employee, alright? It looks . . . bad.”

I gaped. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea having a friend would reflect badly on your already stellar image.”

“Friend?” He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no, Jagger doesn’t have friends who are women. Trust me, he doesn’t want your friendship, he wants your perfect tits and amazing ass, alright?” The minute the words fell out of his mouth he sobered and then looked away like he’d just been caught with both hands, legs, and his balls in the cookie jar.

“Perfect tits and amazing ass . . . huh?” I shrugged. “Better watch it, sexual harassment is no joke.”

I handed him the spray. “Enjoy cleaning up shit. And Slade? I’m allowed one friend.”

“You have friends.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I almost choked up again.

“People like us don’t get to have friends . . . at least not ones we trust.” I grabbed my purse and reached for the doorknob.

His hand was on my shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry for—”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Stay away from him.”

“Have a lovely evening!”

“Mackenzie!”

“Food in the fridge!”

“Mackenzie, I’m—”

I was already getting in my SUV and starting the engine.

I promised myself I wouldn’t look back.

And three seconds later.

Did exactly what I shouldn’t have done, as the man with the orgasms and hateful words stood on the doorstep and watched me leave.

His eyes penetrating past the shield of my car and into my chest, and for two seconds I contemplated turning around.





Chapter Twenty-Three SLADE

“Jagger asked her out,” I growled as I took another bite of pizza and wiped my face with a napkin.

Matt’s confused expression wasn’t helping. “Who’s this ‘she’ you’re bitching about?”

I let out a grunt. “Mackenzie.”

“Okay . . .” he said slowly. “And she must have said yes?”

“Damn it, why am I the only person in the universe who actually sees through his constant bullshit? He’s a fucking womanizer!”

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed like he was in deep thought; he even stopped chewing.

“What!” I roared.

“Have I ever told you what a joy you’ve been recently? No? I wonder why . . .” He started chewing off another piece and then leaned back against the couch. “Something tells me Mackenzie’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who she was?” The pizza tasted like cardboard in my mouth as I made eye contact with him and waited.

He stared me down, then finally said, “Does it matter?”

I laughed.

He started choking.

I pounded him on the back. “What the hell, man?”

“Sorry, it’s just the last time you laughed was at least a year ago.”

“I call bullshit.” I sobered. “And it’s more of an ironic laugh, not one full of humor.”

“And you’re laughing ironically now because?”

Guilt crept down my spine. “I, uh . . .”

“Damn.” He tossed his napkin on the table. “Tell me you didn’t seduce her already. Tell me we don’t have a lawsuit on our hands. She works for you, man! She signed a contract! You signed a contract—well, actually, I acted on your behalf, but you can’t touch the help! Especially if the help is worth more than two of you!”

“Seriously? That’s . . .” I frowned. “If she doesn’t need to work . . .”

“Maybe she just enjoys your cheerful demeanor,” he said sarcastically.

I pulled at my long hair and stared into the glass of water. “I slept with her.”

“Fuck.” He grabbed his phone.

“About a month ago,” I added.

He dropped the phone in his lap and narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m confused. You know her?”

“Long story short . . . she was the woman I was with the night . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “That night.”

“You went on vacation with her?” Yeah, he still wasn’t getting it.

“We met on vacation,” I clarified. “On the plane . . . and we kissed—the plane lost an engine and she thought she was going to die and one thing led to another and I just . . . I was drawn to her and she was so fucking happy and carefree and in need of an adventure while I just wanted an escape. It was . . . perfect, until . . .” I threw my hands up in the air.

“And she was fine with a one-night stand with soccer’s biggest star? I hope you made her sign something for legal, hell, do you still have the paper? What do I tell you, always travel with the paper—”

“She didn’t sign shit . . . ,” I said quickly. “She thought my name was Hugo.”