My phone dings with a text from Kevin. I text him back letting him know where to meet me. If Finn O’Hare is going to play with my heart, then I am going to play with his too.
Chapter 13
Finn
“Let me get this straight. You’re hiring me to make your secretary jealous in hopes that she’ll make a move on you because you’re not allowed to as her boss, but I can’t touch you and I can’t do anything that I wouldn’t want to see a girl do with my man.”
I fiddle with the cuff link on my black shirt before answering, “You’ve got it. You okay with that?” Rydell’s idea had merit but I didn’t want to turn Lucky off, either. There’s two ways to do takeovers. The first and easiest method is with a hammer. You go in and destroy everything—or everyone—that stands in your way. The second way is through finesse. The latter takes longer but you end up with a better long tail to your investment because you have fewer enemies and people that want to stab you in the back. You can only do the first one so many times before you can’t sleep at night because you have to keep one eye open. Obviously, this situation calls for careful handling or Lucky will take one look at me, decide I’m trash and not worth her while.
The hired escort Rydell sent over nods. “Are you kidding? Easiest five grand I’ve ever made.” My driver appears on her side and opens the door. Celine unfolds her body and climbs out of the car, waiting until I join her. The outline of our bodies is reflected in the dark glass door of the club. She’s model thin and model tall. With her four-inch stilettos, she comes right to my chin.
“We look like a good couple,” she observes.
Not in my mind. She looks wrong standing next to me. It should be Lucky who comes up to my shoulder, who is far curvier. And we wouldn’t be standing here but instead, back at my office with her smashed against the window with her legs spread and my cock ramming into her juicy cunt. Soon, though. That’s going to be a reality, soon.
“After you.” I gesture. Celine picked this club out. It’s exclusive and filled with celebrities which means there will be at least one person inside taking pictures for their social media page. All I need is one picture which I can loudly talk about to the administrative staff in the morning. It’ll take ten minutes tops and Celine will go home with a fat check and my green monster plans will be in motion. By the end of the day, Lucky will be in my town car heading to my home where she can place her mark all over my body.
Inside, the club is dark and moody. “This doesn’t look like a good picture taking place.” I glower at the woman. Was she setting me up? Did she believe this was an actual date?
“Be patient.”
After I pay the exorbitant entrance fee, a thick-necked, square-headed muscle man shows us to a private staircase. Celine heads up immediately. The top of the stairs gives way to a large room with brighter lights and fewer people. A row of clubgoers huddle together in the corner and take a photo. The bright light of the flash momentarily illuminates a familiar face at a table nearby. Lucky.
I turn to the woman beside me. “You’re a genius, Celine.” I grab her by the elbow and drag her toward Lucky. Halfway across the room, I stop. Lucky isn’t here with a bunch of other women. She’s here with a man. It’s the guy from the lunchroom—Kevin something. He’s leaning toward her and his shoulder is almost brushing hers. A wave of red washes across my eyes, blurring my vision. I blink to clear the view, but the fucking scene remains the same. My woman is sitting in a nightclub with another man.
The hired model forgotten, I charge the remaining distance. “What the hell is going on here?”
“M-M-Mr. O’Hare,” stammers Kevin. “I didn’t realize you were a member here.”
“I’m not,” I snarl. I grab Lucky’s wrist and pull her to her feet. “And neither is she.”
I’m done with rules and manuals and laws. I don’t care about win-win situations. Lucky is mine and no one—not Kevin from the lunchroom, not Monica from HR, not anyone—is going to keep her from me. Fuck all of them. I throw Lucky over my shoulder and shove my way past the partiers, the picture takers, and the smirking date for hire. A couple of bouncers try to get in my way, but I’m not having it. I might have punched one. I definitely shoved a couple, including one that was coming up the stairs.