Dirty Work - Regina Kyle Page 0,15

now is that by some miracle workaholic Jake has come to his senses and taken a night off. Or if he hasn’t, he’s too busy to deal with an insignificant errand girl with a tendency to hump and run, and I can convince Mia it’s socially acceptable to revert to my original text message plan.

I push my chair back and stand, snatching my wristlet from the table. “Fine. You can dress me up and take me out on one condition.”

She lets out a high-pitched squee, but I hold a hand up to stop her.

“Not so fast, Henry Higgins. You haven’t heard the condition yet.”

She frowns, creasing her perfect, normally wrinkle-free forehead. “Henry Higgins?”

“You know, from My Fair Lady.” She’s still staring at me like I have two heads, so I go on. “It’s a musical. Based on the play Pygmalion. He takes a lowly flower girl and turns her into a lady.”

“Figures. You and your show tunes.” She grimaces, but I know she’s not serious. She’s been my date to the theater more times than I can count in place of my Broadway-boycotting ex-boyfriend. “So what’s the condition?”

“By twelve o’clock I’m home and snug in bed.”

“But it’s almost eleven now,” she says, twisting her wrist to check the diamond-studded Patek Philippe she bought herself at Tiffany when she made partner last month. I brace myself for the flood of regret, the deluge of could-have-been-me’s, but they don’t come. All the confirmation I need that I made the right decision walking away. As if I needed more proof that my life is ten thousand times better as the owner of a boutique concierge service than it was as an overworked, overstressed attorney.

I link my arm through Mia’s and steer her toward the door. “Then we’d better get going. Because at midnight this lady turns back into an errand girl.”

CHAPTER SIX

Jake

“YOU CAN GO HOME, you know.” Connor’s voice comes from over my shoulder as I stare at the bank of computer screens that dominates my enormous chrome-and-glass executive desk. “You don’t have to be at the club every waking hour.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” I shoot back, tapping a button on my keyboard to flip from one security camera to another. It’s been a fairly uneventful night so far, but that could change at the drop of a hat. Or a beer bottle. It doesn’t take much to set tempers flaring, especially when alcohol is involved.

Connor rests his butt on my desk and waves a manila folder in my face. “I had to get the quarterly payroll taxes done. I was heading down the hall to drop them on Diane’s desk so she can double-check my math in the morning when I saw your light on. What’s your excuse?”

“Just keeping an eye out for trouble.” I switch screens again. “It’s a full moon. And the city’s in the middle of a heat wave, with no end in sight. All the crazies will be out tonight.”

“We have people for that. I believe they’re called bouncers.”

“I know that. I hired them.”

“Then what are you really doing here?” Connor folds his arms across his chest and cocks his head to give me the hairy eyeball. “Afraid to go back to your empty apartment now that your sister’s gone?”

“Are you kidding? The man cave’s all mine again. I can walk around buck naked. Leave the toilet seat up. Drink milk straight from the carton.” Not that I do any of that stuff. Much.

“Even assuming I buy what you’re shoveling, that doesn’t tell me why you’re still here.”

I shrug. “You know how it is. People like to rub shoulders with the club owners. Makes them feel special. And you hate that shit, so...”

He waves a hand at the bank of computers. “Shouldn’t you be down there, then?”

“I was about to head out when you waltzed in.”

One eyebrow arches upward, making it obvious he still doesn’t believe me. “You sure that’s the reason you’re working late, and not that you’re obsessing over the Miami deal?”

“I’m not obsessing,” I insist, even though he’s half right. The Miami deal’s never far from my thoughts, even when I’m focused on something else. Making this thing happen means everything to me. If we can successfully expand into one new market, the whole world’s ours for the taking.

And I want the whole world, dammit.

“If you say so,” Connor says, his tone skeptical.

“I do.”

He reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You know, there’s no rush on this Miami