live-in staff anymore? Governor salary not enough?”
Fiona answered nonchalantly, “Daddy said when we moved into the governor’s mansion downtown 12 years ago that it wouldn’t look good to keep a live-in house staff.”
She pushed open her bedroom door.
“Oh,” he said. “So instead they just fired a bunch of housekeepers?”
“Nobody lost their jobs. And actually, their pay was the same even though we only live here part time. It seems extravagant, but ultimately people need the option to keep their jobs. And Mom’s family keeps offices here, so it’s a tax write-off. Win-win.”
Levi could not imagine having so much money that he could pay people to do nothing. Never mind the mental acrobatics involved in justifying the use of whatever obscure tax loopholes needed to write off the cost of household staff.
It almost reminded him of his old boss, Girardi. He had people all over Newcastle sitting on their hands, doing nothing but running pretend businesses through which the family laundered money.
One was illegal and the other wasn’t. Although, looking around this girl’s bedroom that was bigger than his YaYa’s entire house, he wondered why the latter wasn’t illegal.
Don’t go justifying what you did, Levi. That was first step to recidivism, according to his parole officer. There was no comparing the way this family had made its money and the way the Girardi family kept the entire Dockside neighborhood—indeed much of the entire city—under their thumbs.
The way they each lived their lives, though, he could see very little difference.
Chapter Thirteen
Fiona
* * *
Fiona started the shower for Levi and then sneaked off to the guest suite to find a tee shirt and sweats for Levi to wear.
When she returned to her room, she politely knocked on the door to her private bathroom.
“I have something for you to change into. I’ll just leave them on the bathroom counter.” When she did this, she saw sitting next to the hand soap dispenser the same pocketknife he’d removed from his pants. Fiona lingered for a second as she admired the carved handle. Picking it up, she was surprised at how heavy it was. A small screw in the end of the handle was jutting out slightly, and she wondered if it needed tightening. When she touched it, she got a jolt of surprise when the gleaming blade released. Not just a pocketknife, a switchblade. And a fierce-looking one at that. Fiona judged it to be about the sexiest looking weapon she’d ever seen a man possess. Which was saying something, as she’d experienced innocent schoolgirl crushes on several different gun-wearing bodyguards since her father began running for office. She angled the blade against the inside of her index finger, gently scraping it across her skin.
Maybe it was the old-fashioned look of it that excited her. Maybe she shivered a little bit at the notion that to use such a thing in self defense, one would have to be up close and personal. Or, most likely, the darkest parts of her body thrilled at the man himself who possessed the weapon. All she could say for sure was this thing in her hand was turning her on in the most ridiculous of ways.
In her examination of the switchblade, Fiona had lingered a second too long. The wet glass door squeaked open. Setting the blade back down on the counter with a loud clanking noise, she averted her eyes and made for the bedroom door.
“Where you goin’?”
She turned toward him but kept her eyes on the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the mirror. Oh god, but the mirror reflected everything she wasn’t supposed to see.
“I…I was just going to take off my makeup and brush my hair while I wait for you to finish showering.”
Why won’t he close the door? she thought. Does he really expect me to hang out and have a conversation while his…thing is just…there?
“Or…” He sounded the way a person sounds when they’re pretending they just thought up a bright idea, when they’ve actually had a scheme going in their heads for hours. “…unless you want to join me and help me finish.”
That word “finish” was absolute filth in his mouth, and every bit of Fiona responded to it like a filth-loving she-devil.
“What are you scared of, Fi? You can look at it.”
He’d caught her trying to avoid staring, and now that he’d given her permission, she gave in to the temptation.
Hard and veiny, his shaft visibly pulsed under her gaze.
Levi’s large body blocked the shower spray from splashing outward onto the floor,