“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. But our first line item on the budget can’t be crack cocaine, all right?”
“Fucking hell, Webb.” I stand and start to pace. I grab my coffee and throw it back, distinctly aware of the other patrons watching me. Even Zoe seems somewhat uncomfortable. But they can all go to hell.
Tony Cowan is a genius. He’s unstable and difficult, but he’s a genius. And now that genius is dragging my partner into insanely dangerous situations all for his own profit and gain.
My partner. My fucking Blair.
No, no, notmine.
For one short moment, yes, at that wedding she was all mine. Her lips and body and moans, they were mine. But the endless string of strange women coming through my bedroom is supposed to drown out the voice that screams at me every time I’m alone to find Webb, rip off her clothes, and fuck her raw and own her the way I need to.
But I can’t.
We agreed. That sex, that mind-blowing sex, it was only for that night. I have to set it aside and move on, or else this is going to get extremely complicated very quickly, even worse than it already is.
“Cowan crossed a line,” I say finally, gesturing with my coffee. Some spills over the side and burns my fingers, but I like the pain right now. The pain helps to focus me. “He went way beyond the line. The line is in a different country.”
“I completely agree.”
“Then we’re done. We’re walking away.”
“Baptist—”
“There are a dozen talented directors in Hollywood, Webb. Hell, there are probably a dozen in Philadelphia, all we’ve got to do is find them. Fuck Tony Cowan and his crack.”
“Baptist.” She glares at me, jaw working. “I already paid the damn gangsters. That’s behind us.”
“He’s going to do it again.” I sit back down in my chair, leg jostling. “You said it yourself. He wants to know how badly we want this.”
“It’s a game,” she agrees.
“Which means it’ll only get worse. We back off now, we minimize our losses.”
“Why are you talking like you want to end this? Cowan was your idea, remember?”
I flinch slightly and nod, staring down at my drink. Why am I ready to back out so quickly? If this were anyone else—if this were Ansell, or Marie, or any of my other friends or colleagues—I wouldn’t be ready to burn it all to the ground.
But it’s Blair. He dragged her into a mafia bar and stood her in front of extremely dangerous men and made her give them cash. If he were anyone else, I’m sure those assholes would’ve done something to her.
I can’t think about that. Rage roils in my heart, white hot and painful. I can’t picture Blair getting touched, cat-called, violated—
Fuck, I want to kill them. I want to burn that whole block to the ground and piss on their ashes.
“I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger again.”
She laughs once. “I’m not sure you have a say in that. We’re business partners and nothing more, remember?”
“I’m aware, but—”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
I lean forward, staring into her eyes. “Yes, Webb. I do.”
Silence falls. She’s seething, but she doesn’t deny it. I’m seething, and I’m ready to throw her over this table and suck her soaking pussy until she screams.
“We’ll make a deal,” I say quietly, still meeting her gaze even though it sends shivers down my spine. “You don’t ever go do anything with him alone. We do this together.”
Her head tilts. “That seems impractical.”