Distraction: An underground kings novel (5 page)

“I talk to you everyday,” I murmur as I place the stack of folders on his desk then use my coffee as an excuse to avoid looking at him directly.

“You ask me what you need to do, but avoid any kind of communication otherwise,” he says, sounding frustrated, and when my eyes meet his, I grudgingly notice the lavender shirt he has on today makes them even more gorgeous.

“If you’re finding me lacking, you can fire me.” I shrug, watching his eyes narrow and turn a darker shade of blue-green.

“I think I’ll keep you,” he replies in a tone that sounds like a threat, but it does something strange to my belly making it dip.

“So what did you need me to do today?” I ask ignoring my body’s reaction to him.

“I have to meet with a friend to discuss business and would like you to come along,” he says as I take a seat across from him.

“Oh.” Looking down at my black jeans, I run my finger over one of the rips in the material, trying to think of a way to get out of going, then raise my eyes to his. “Is it necessary for me to be there?” I finally ask, and a small smile twitches the corner of his mouth.

“Are you my assistant? The best assistant money can buy?” He raises a brow in a silent dare.

“Touché,” I mutter under my breath, dropping my eyes again when I see him smile his gorgeous smile.

“Give me five and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Alrighty then.” Taking my coffee with me, I leave the office without a backward glance and head down to the floor below. Walking through the empty club, I make my way toward the bar when I see Eva standing behind it, wiping out empty glasses.

“Hey, girly,” she greets when she spots me.

“How are things?” I ask, climbing up onto one of the barstools, setting my bag and coffee on the countertop.

“Busy as ever.” She smiles, setting down one glass and picking up another.

“How’s school going?” I question as I take in her tired eyes. Eva, like most women who work behind bars in Vegas, is beautiful. Looking at her, I can see her Native American heritage and can picture her dressed in custom tribal attire with bright clothing that would accentuate her caramel skin, and braids with feathers in her hair dark.

“Thank God I only have a few months left,” she sighs, setting yet another glass down.

“Then you’ll take the Bar exam?” I ask, knowing she is studying to be a lawyer.

“Yep.”

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” I note quietly.

“I’m happy about finishing school, but my whole future from then on out is completely mapped out for me. I know when I pass my bar exam, I’ll work for my father and our tribe, I’ll marry someone I’ve probably known my whole life, and then I’ll have two kids. All I can hope is, somewhere in there, I’m happy.”

“You can always make your own way,” I say quietly as I study her somber expression.

“I wish it was that easy,” she mutters then nods behind me, and I turn to look over my shoulder at Sven, who is walking—no,
prowling
—across the empty club floor. He’s looking more handsome than I’ve ever seen him, in jeans and a plain tee with Converse on his feet. “Please be careful with him,” Eva whispers, and I pull my eyes from everything that is Sven to look at her.

“You don’t have to worry about me, honey,” I whisper back with a smile as I slip off the barstool.

“Ready?” Sven asks, nodding at Eva behind the bar once he reaches my side.

“Yep,” I agree then ask, “Am I overdressed?” as we step outside.

“We’ll stop and get you some sneakers,” he says absently, typing into his phone.

“I have shoes in my car,” I tell him, half tempted to take the phone out of his hand and toss it into the street. He’s always on his phone or looking at his computer and as much as I hate to admit it I like when his attention is on me. Walking away from him, I head to my car and grab my own Converse from the trunk. “I thought you said we were meeting with a friend of yours to discuss business,” I mutter as I exchange my heels for my sneakers.

“We are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, folding up the bottom of my jeans so my look is more casual, then stand and unbutton my dress shirt.

“Leave the shirt.”

“What?” I question, turning to face him.

“Fuck.” He frowns as his eyes move from my breasts up to my face. “This guy loves women, so just do me a favor and leave the shirt on.”

“This tank covers the girls,” I say, looking down. Yes, I have cleavage, but it’s not too extreme, and it sure as heck is less than a lot of women show, especially here in Vegas.

“I know they’re covered, but please, for my sanity, wear the shirt.”

Rolling my eyes, I take off the shirt and toss it into the trunk along with my heels.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” he gripes.

“Yeah, and you’re Mr. Perfect,” I mutter as I head across the parking lot to his SUV, before coming to a halt when he grabs my hand and leads me toward the street. “Are we walking to your friend’s?” I ask, taking my hand from his.

“No, my driver is taking us.”

“You have a driver?”

“Yep,” he says, distracted by his phone dinging in his hand. Grabbing the stupid thing, I shove it in my back pocket and then walk backward away from him.

“Mags, give me my phone.”

“I’ll give it back to you when you stop being rude and look at me when you’re talking to me,” I tell him, jumping away from him when he lunges for me.

“Maggie, stop fucking around.”

“Promise you’ll stop being rude, and I’ll give you your phone.” I dodge him once more.

“Seems you’ve got your hands full, boy’o,” an older gentleman, who is standing next to the open backdoor of a Town Car, says as I duck Sven again.

“Tell me about it, Ken,” Sven says as he glares at me.

“I told you I’d give you your phone back when you promise to look at me when you’re speaking to me.” I shrug.

“Fine.” He holds out his hand.

Taking his phone out of my pocket, I hold it above his hand then move it before he has a chance to wrap his fingers around it.

“Mags,” he sighs, fighting a smile.

Giving in, I hand him his phone, but then squeal when he lunges, wraps his arms around me, and lifts me off the ground. “Put me down!” I yell as he spins me in circles.

“Are you going to behave?” He laughs.

“Probably not,” I tell him honestly just as my feet find purchase on the sidewalk.

“You’re lucky I like you just the way you are,” he whispers against my ear, causing heat to flood my body before he takes a step back and embraces Ken with a one-armed hug.

How’s Ann?” Sven inquires as he takes a step back toward me.

“She’s sent her love and an invite to dinner.”

“I’ll send her a message this week. I need a good home-cooked meal,” Sven replies with a grin.

“She’d like that,” Ken remarks with a warm smile that reminds me of my grandfather, and then his eyes move to me and he asks, “And who’s this?”

“Maggie, I’d like you to meet Ken. He’s been putting up with me ever since I moved to Vegas.”

“Nice to meet you, Ken.” I smile as he wraps his hand around mine and uses his free one to cover both our hands.

“You too, dear, and don’t let this boy get away with too much.” He winks.

“I won’t,” I promise, looking at Sven and smiling, and then I stick out my tongue.

Shaking his head at me, he mutters, “We need to get on the road if we’re going to make it in time.”

“It shouldn’t take long once we get to the highway,” Ken assures him with a shake of his head as he drops my hand.

“Why aren’t you driving?” I ask curiously as Ken steps away from the open backdoor.

“I need to work, and I can’t do that if I’m driving,” Sven replies as he motions for me to get into the car.

“Where are we going?”

“I think it’s best I don’t tell you,” he mumbles, sounding distracted as I crawl across the wide backseat. Looking over my shoulder, I expect to find his eyes on his phone. Instead, I find them locked firmly on my upturned rear. Feeling my cheeks heat, I fall to my bottom and scoot close to the opposite door so he can get in next to me.

“I don’t like surprises, so I’d rather you tell me where we’re going,” I grouch as the door is closed and the interior of the town car goes dark.

“Do you trust me?”

“No,” I answer immediately, but then feel bad when his jaw jerks. “Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust anyone, not even my family,” I add quietly.

“Trust me this once. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Studying his expression, I try to figure out what the look in his eyes means and why this moment seems so important. I have been let down by my sister and the people who raised me more times than I would like to admit, and they have made me wary of trusting anyone. “Promise,” he quietly states, and I nod before turning to look out the window, feeling my throat grow tight.

Feeling a light touch down my cheek, I hear Sven’s voice break through my unconsciousness, stating, “We’re here.”

I groan and ask, “Where’s here?” without lifting my head or opening my eyes.

Chuckling, he mutters, “Open your eyes and see.”

Opening one eye then the other, I pull my face away from the door, where I rested it and apparently fell asleep, and then feel my heart lodge itself in my throat as I look out the window. I see the words
Kip’s Skydiving
proudly written in bold letters from nose to tail on a small plane.

“Um…why are we here?” I ask, though I’m not sure the words are loud enough to be heard over the pounding of my heart.

“We’re going skydiving.”

“You mean
you’re
going skydiving,” I reply, pulling my eyes from the window to look at him and glare.

So much for the whole trusting thing.

“No,
we’re
going skydiving.” He grins as Ken opens the back door, allowing light to fill the car.

“I think I’ll just wait here,” I tell him, scooting as far away from the open door as I can possibly get while wishing I were a chameleon so I could blend in with the leather of the car.

“You told me you would trust me.”

“That was before I knew you wanted to strap a piece of fabric to my back and hurl me from a moving plane at hundreds of miles per hour toward the Earth, where I’m likely to splatter into a bazillion pieces,” I breathe out in a rush.

“You’re going to be strapped to me.” He smiles like that makes it all okay.

“That’s not making me feel any better,” I cry then try to tug my arm free from his hold as he pulls me across the seat. Getting away, I grab onto the door handle and hold on for dear life as he grabs both my feet and pulls. “Sven, let me go!” I yell, and then my body stiffens as an all too familiar deep baritone voice calls, “Maggie?”

“No,” I whisper, letting go of the door to look over my shoulder.

“How do you know Mags?” Sven growls, letting my feet go so he can stand to his full height, which only slightly towers over Ace, a man I dated on and off for a few months. A man who makes Sven’s womanizing ways look like child’s play.

“We dated.” He frowns then looks between Sven and me before asking, “How do you know Maggie?”

“I work for him,” I state as I get out of the car and adjust my clothes.

“Oh.” Ace grins, showing off his perfect teeth and dimple, which is made even more adorable by his dark skin.

Jerk.

“You dated him?” Sven asks from my side, and I turn to look at him.

“I know. Big, huge,
giant
mistake.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Ace mutters as three blondes who all look almost identical walk up to our group, giggling.

“Yeah, it was that bad,” I tell him as Sven stiffens at my side when one of the blondes stands next to him.

“Why are you working for Sven? I thought you were still modeling?”

“Modeling?” Sven asks, and the three women begin to giggle louder, like they can’t believe their ears.

“I thought we were skydiving,” I state, changing the subject, because at this time, I would much rather be falling to my death than in the middle of this situation.

“Who’s your friend?” the blonde standing at Sven’s side asks, raking her eyes over him.

“Sorry, ladies. This is my friend, Sven, and this is Maggie.” He smiles, nodding toward me.

“And you dated her?” a different blonde questions, looking between Ace and me with a puzzled look on her (sadly) beautiful face.

“I did.” Ace nods, still smiling.

“But she’s fat,” she mutters, looking me over.

“Pardon?” Sven snarls as Ace growls, “Crystal.”

“Sorry,” she whispers, taking a step back toward the safety of her friends.

“Let’s go.” Grabbing my hand and not giving me a choice, Sven pulls me away from the group and leads me toward the building, swinging his arm over my shoulders, asking, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s not the first time someone has called me fat.”

“I mean with Ace.”

“Oh, him? Yeah.” I shrug.

“Really?”

“Of course, we dated casually for a few months. It wasn’t serious. Like you, I don’t think he will ever settle down with one woman.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” he snaps, sounding insulted as he pulls his arm from me like I just burned him.

“Hey, don’t be offended. There are two types of men in this world: the kind who want a family, and the kind who want to have a good time. As long as you’re okay with who you are, nothing else matters.”

“Who said I don’t want a family?”

“When have you ever had a serious relationship?” I ask, and his face closes down. “Exactly,” I mumble as we step out of the hot sun and into the cool interior of the building.

“So what, you and Ace just hooked up?”

“No.” I shake my head then whisper so Ace, who is following close behind, can’t hear. “I think I caught him during a time he believed he wanted something more, only he didn’t really want the pressure or the fidelity of a real relationship.” Just then, thankfully, a tall, older gentleman who Sven introduces to me as Kip, the owner, comes out to greet us and takes us back to the hangar.

“Since I have more jumps under my belt, I think Mags should jump with me,” Ace says as I put on the jumpsuit the instructor just gave me.