Chapter 5

Chapter Five

THERON

Nothing much of anything happens for the full twelve hours that I sit and stare at the computer screen. I want so many things to happen. I want this shit to be done immediately. But I also know that it takes time.

The most exciting thing that happened was the guy coming into the office at the beginning of the shift and taking an invoice from the desk. How do you run a business without stepping into your office at all?

Even here, I couldn’t go a full day without at least coming by and checking in. That makes me even more curious about what is going on and who is running the Willow Club. Because it’s not the man who signed the contract for service; I haven’t seen him once since this started.

Hale opens the door as soon as I glance down at my watch to check if it’s time for a shift change. He moves through the room, a coffee in his hand from a local drive-through place, his eyes scanning the screen in front of me, his brow arched in question.

“We got video feed of the office along with sound, but nothing happened last night. Not a goddamn thing. I’m leaving my notebook here. Started making notes of things I observed in the office, but that’s all I got.”

He jerks his chin, lowering his coffee to the table. “If I see anything worthy of a note, I’ll make it and time-stamp it. It’ll be easier to find it again that way.”

He’s right. It will. He’s done plenty of stakeouts over the years, so he’s better at data collecting than I am. I’m more of the front man. Meetings, contracts, and sales are where I’m usually better suited. But this is an all-hands-on-deck mission, and I’m proud as fuck to be part of it.

Standing, I give him all the information that Boden gave me, then leave him for his twelve-hour shift. Yawning, I move through the office, my computer bag in hand. I’m only a few steps down the hallway when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I reach for the device and stop to look at who is contacting me.

It’s a text from Emmie. Sliding my thumb across the screen, I open the message and smirk at the sight of the photograph that meets my eyes. She’s naked, although her hair is covering her tits, so I can’t see everything. It’s a hot picture, but I wouldn’t ever send something like this over the phone.

Before I can respond, she sends another message. This time, just a text with no photo attached.

EMMIE: Come over. I miss you.

My initial response is to halt. It hasn’t even been thirty-six hours since I’ve seen her. Hell, I’d have to think and count, but I would venture to guess it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I’m not sure how I feel about this.

I’m getting that needy vibe, but at the same time, I’m thinking it’s a manipulation tactic.

Emmie has been trying to lead me around by my dick since she wormed her way between my sheets. She doesn’t think I know what she’s doing, but I do. I’m not someone who has ever, not fucking ever, let a woman best me.

And I will not let Emmie.

Even though she plays a mean game and is a great lay.

She will never lead me around by my dick. There is no pussy in the world that could ever do that. Not even Lucille’s, and I am really fucking into her, always have been. She’s the one who got away, the one I pushed away because I felt way too goddamn much for her.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I ignore the text and head straight toward my car. I told her that I would be at her place when I could. And right now, I cannot. All the sexy pictures in the world won’t send me there. Not when I know she’s trying to force me.

I walk to my car and reach for the handle, but something causes me to pause. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Looking over my shoulder, I try to find the source, narrowing my eyes while searching for anything and everything that stands out.

Usually, you can see that something is out of place when you’re being watched. If you know what you’re looking for, you can always find the person who sticks out. But whoever has been watching me, they’re good.

Professional.

It bothers me, but also, I’m impressed as fuck.

I wish I could meet them and let them know just how impressed by them I am. But at the same time, I’m not sure why they could be watching me, so maybe I don’t want to know. What I do know is that it isn’t Emmie. She’s not that slick.

Tugging the front door of my car open, I sink down into the seat, tossing my computer bag on the passenger side. Scrubbing my palm down my face, I shake my head a couple of times before I start my engine.

Instead of going straight home, I head to my favorite coffee drive-through and order a double shot of expresso in a black coffee. As much as it should probably keep me awake, I know it won’t. This has been my go-to drink for so long that I have no doubt I’ll be able to sleep like a baby as soon as my head hits my pillow.

Thanking the barista, I pay her in cash, adding a few hundred bucks for a tip. Then I make my way home. After sliding my car into my marked spot, I groan at the sight that greets me. The goddamn audacity.

It’s Emmie.

She can’t get into my building. It’s locked down tighter than a bank vault. With a heavy sigh, I grab my computer and coffee before I push the car door open and unfold. As I move toward her, I watch as her bottom lip pokes out in a pout.

Stopping in front of her, I arch a brow. I don’t say a fucking word. I want to hear what she has to say to me first. Because nowhere in any of that conversation the other day, and especially during the text that I ignored less than an hour ago, did I leave it open for her to show up at my place.

“I missed you, baby,” she purrs.

Pressing my lips together in a thin line, I watch her and wait for her to say something else. When she doesn’t, I assume she’s waiting for me to speak. She’s probably expecting me to wrap her in my arms and carry her upstairs.

That won’t be happening.

“I told you I’d come to you when I was able,” I state.

She closes the distance between us, lifting her arm and placing her palm on the center of my chest before she tilts her head back, and her eyes find mine.

“I know, but I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

Shaking my head once, I clear my throat before I speak. My words are not friendly, and my tone is even less so.

“Emmie,” I warn, “when I need to do something for work, I need to do something for work. You know that my schedule is not Monday through Friday, nine to five. Sometimes, I’m gone at odd hours. I gave you the courtesy to let you know that I would not be available for a while, but you need to give me the same respect.”

Her hand falls from my chest before she takes a step backward. She dips her chin slightly, attempting to look as if I’ve scolded her like a child. If I have, it’s only because she’s behaving like one. This is also just a fucking game for her. She’s not really hurt; she might be pissed because she didn’t get her way, but she’s not hurt.

“I’m sorry, Theron. I just wanted to see you,” she whispers.

I already know it’s bullshit, but I decide to entertain her. Because if I totally brush her off, she may get pissed and end things. I don’t want to marry her or anything, but she’s easy and pleasant enough. Emmie scratches an itch, and right now, that’s what I need. I don’t have the time to invest in someone else for the same outcome.

“All right, Emmie. How about I come over after I’ve got some sleep, and we’ll go to dinner?”

Her eyes light up, and her lips curve up into a smile. “Okay,” she chirps.

She rises to her toes, touches her lips to mine, and then she is gone, running off to her car, which is parked in the visitor spot. She’s gotten what she wanted and now she’s fucking gone.

What. Ever.

I watch her until she is out of the parking lot. Fuck . At least she’s out of my hair for a while. I’m not sure how long this is going to last or if this is going to be a regular thing, but I wanted easy. And I’m coming to the conclusion that Emmie is going to be a bit more to handle than I wanted.

But at the same time, she’s a damn good ride.

LUCILLE

I watch as he folds into his car, then drives away and heads toward his favorite coffee place. I’m exhausted, but I still follow him. He gets his normal order, which is a black coffee with a double shot of espresso.

I don’t know how he drinks that and goes to bed, but I remember him doing it years ago, and he always slept like a baby. After a good fuck, that is. Coffee and sex. It always made Theron pass right out.

When he pulls into his parking garage, I almost drive past and head home, but something catches my eye. It’s Emmie. Slowly, I pull into the garage, but instead of parking where I can watch them clearly, I make my way around the corner and park in an empty stall.

Opening my car door, I slip out and tiptoe so that I can hear and watch them. I shouldn’t be doing this, but then again, I shouldn’t do a lot of things I do—it seems to be the theme of my life.

Shaking the thoughts of myself away, I focus on Theron and Emmie. As I watch them, I frown. She’s putting on a whole show. It’s a complete act. She pouts, bats her eyes, and touches his chest. She is hitting all the spots, but when I shift my gaze over to him, I notice something for the first time.

He is not into it—the act, that is.

Interesting.

Granted, I knew that Theron wasn’t stupid, but I didn’t pay attention to the way he really looked at Emmie. He’s using her. He’s tolerating her, but that’s about it. I can’t deny that I love that. I mean, I don’t love that he’s screwing her when he should be screwing me, but I do love that he hasn’t fallen for her shit.

She’s gone a few moments later, but I can’t take my eyes off him. He waits until she leaves, watching her, then turns toward the elevator. But instead of walking right inside, he turns his head and looks directly at me, or at least in my direction.

Sucking in my breath, I hold it as my heart slams against my chest. I know he doesn’t see me because he doesn’t even flinch as he stares, but I know he senses me. Backing away, I slip as far away from him as possible without making a noise.

When I hear the ding of the elevator car, I let my breath out, and once the doors slide closed, only then do I chance opening my car door and leaving the garage. Driving home is a blur. I’m so exhausted that I can’t even think.

Once I’m inside my apartment, I close my eyes and lean against the closed front door with a heavy sigh. I’m exhausted and confused. Emmie isn’t just manipulative. She’s something else, and I’m getting nothing but bad vibes from her.

Sure, most of those bad vibes stem from jealousy, but there is more to it. I don’t know what, but I have a feeling there is something happening that I haven’t figured out yet. It’s eating at me the way that no other woman or situation with Theron has before.

The Willow Club is at the center of this, and I want to know what the hell is going on.

But I can’t worry about it at this exact moment. I’m exhausted. Moving toward my bathroom, I start the shower. While I’m waiting for the water to heat up, I find my playlist on my phone and start it.

The sounds of nineties alternative rock fill my bathroom as I step into the steamy shower. I don’t know why I love this music. It’s not like I was born in the nineties, but there’s something comforting about the sounds, the beat, the male vocals. Smashing Pumpkins and Bush are my favorites, but I do love the classic sounds of Kurt Cobain, too.

Closing my eyes, I let the warm water wash over me. I usually don’t wash my hair before I go to sleep, not wanting to have a wet pillow, but I need to feel the warm water everywhere right now.

Once I’m finished, wet hair and all, I drag myself to bed. I don’t even put my pajamas on. I’m far too exhausted to be bothered with that. I slip between the sheets, and when my head hits the pillow, my eyes instantly close.