see, there’s your weakness,” Cullen said. “You rarely ask for help. Hasn’t Jessica taught you anything?”
“Not enough, apparently.” Z’s faint smile was rueful. “You’re correct about asking for help.”
Very few Doms liked delegating.
“But even though I’ll be around more than in the past months, I can’t be here every Friday and Saturday. Not with a pregnant wife and a toddler.” Z shook his head. “The same applies to many of you. Families come first.”
Ghost glanced around the table. Nearly all the Masters and Mistresses were in solid relationships. Quite a few had children.
Z continued. “Which is why I still feel having a manager is essential. Unfortunately, the one I hired created more problems than anticipated.”
Ghost understood. Stuck in Europe, Z had taken recommendations for people who’d do well at the job, but none had wanted part-time work. After all, the Shadowlands was only open on Friday and Saturday nights. So, Z ended up settling for Wrecker.
And Ghost had heard the asshole looked good on paper.
“Ghost,” Z said. “Since you were here last night, can you tell us about the girls? Not everyone has heard the complete story.”
As if to illustrate his point, Vance leaned forward. “Girls? Girls?”
“High school seniors, barely over eighteen,” Ghost told him. “It’s lucky Valerie happened on them.”
“Who’s Valerie?” Jake asked. “The name’s not familiar.”
“A submissive who was here on the free-night pass given to people attending the open house.”
Several what-the-fucks came from Masters who hadn’t heard about the guest passes. It was another few minutes before Ghost returned to the high schoolers.
“In the restroom, Valerie heard two girls talking…” Ghost explained what had happened with the girls and with Wrecker.
Anger suffused the atmosphere. Good Dominants were protective, and the Shadowlands Masters and Mistresses were some of the finest he’d ever known.
“Is the asshole still alive?” Sam asked Z in his sandpaper voice.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Z’s expression held cold annoyance. “Dan said he’d be pissed-off if he had to arrest me for murder.”
“Law enforcement. Always so fussy,” Anne said and caught frowns from Galen and Vance, as well as Cullen, a fire investigator.
Ghost exchanged a smile with her, because in his opinion, she wasn’t wrong.
“Scott Hicks—Wrecker—expressed himself quite virulently about being terminated. As a precaution, the Shadowlands’ locks and security codes have been changed.” Z shook his head. “Josie discovered there is expensive alcohol missing. Some smaller items have also been stolen. Nonetheless, I’m disinclined to prosecute. Sorry, Marcus.”
Marcus, an assistant state attorney, inclined his head. “I do understand, sir. Discretion is part of what we owe to our members.”
“Precisely. However, Scott Hicks will no longer be welcomed in any clubs in the state—or wherever I have influence—which will curtail him targeting those in the lifestyle. Dan and Max—and their colleagues—intend to keep an eye on him, too.”
Last night, Ghost had wanted to pound the bastard into the ground. Today, after some thought, he’d arrived at the same conclusion as Z. The girls and the Shadowlands members wouldn’t be helped by trying to arrest the bastard.
“Going forward…” Z glanced at some notes in front of him. “I’ve terminated anyone Hicks hired—the dungeon monitors, the guards, the cleaning service, and the two women who replaced Peggy.”
Peggy had worked during club hours, cleaning scene areas if the participants weren’t able for some reason. A kind woman. Maybe she could be persuaded to return.
“The cleaning service? You mean Andrea’s company?” Marcus turned to Cullen.
“Aye, he fired Andrea and her crew at the beginning of February.” The big fire inspector’s face was dark, although, after a month, surely his anger would have faded some.
Unless he’d just found out?
Ghost pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh. That explained why Wrecker was still alive.
“Unfortunately, catching up with my patients will take the majority of my time, which makes hiring a new Shadowlands manager imperative.” Z leaned back and steepled his fingers. “Hiring from outside the club was a mistake. We need someone who already belongs here and has the same high expectations for the club and the membership as we do. Someone who is comfortable being in charge.”
Now that wasn’t going to be an easy person to find. Ghost rubbed his chin, trying to think of someone.
Z’s gaze met his. “I’d like the person to be you, Finlay.”
The statement hit Ghost’s gut with the impact of a .50-cal bullet. What the hell? “No.” Surely not. “There are others who would do a better job and who have been here longer.”
Cullen’s hearty laughter echoed off the walls. “You’re not going to get out of