Great Exploitations: Sin in San Fran (5 page)

It took her a couple of seconds to answer. “Correct. My Contact will not be there tonight.”

I bit my tongue to keep from dropping another S-bomb on the greater Tampa area. “I’m just going to throw this out here because, well, we’re up shit creek . . . but you wouldn’t happen to have a back-up Contact would you?”

“No. I don’t.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pounded the sofa table with my fist. We were so close to closing. We’d both endured so much, and inches from the finish line, we were going to be disqualified on a technicality. It wasn’t fair.

I was about to make
not fair
my bitch . . .

“It’s okay, Mrs. Tucker. I’ll figure something out,” I said. I’d had a Contact bail at the last minute before, and I’d managed to save that night, but everything about the Tucker Errand was trickier. I would be lucky to not wake up in the hospital tomorrow and have the incriminating evidence Mrs. Tucker needed
without
having to play dual roles of Eve and Contact.

“Maybe you should cancel? We can try again on another night with a new Contact,” she suggested.

I admired her problem-solving chops, but the only night I had left in Tampa was tomorrow. I didn’t need to have been in the business for years to know that finding and arranging a Contact took longer than twenty-four hours. “No, tonight’s the night. I can do this. We’ll both be free of him after tonight.” I didn’t know who I was trying to encourage more, her or me, but we shared a sigh.

“I’m so sorry—”

I shook my head. “No. Don’t apologize for things you can’t control. Instead, let’s focus on the things we can.”

Mrs. Tucker was silent for a moment. I could almost feel her roll her shoulders back and lift her head. “Okay, what do you need me to do?”

“I need you to be packed and ready to get out of that house the instant I text you the V for victory tonight. I need you to make sure you follow through on divorcing him. And I want you to find some peaceful corner of the world and spend the rest of your life there.”

“Anything else?” From the sound of it, she was almost smiling.

“Yeah, I want you to get the best divorce attorney in the state, and if he can take your bastard of a husband for more than half, let him. Have him take a bit more for me, too.” I checked the time again. I had a few minutes before Rob expected me in the lobby, so I did a final check in the mirror, made sure I had everything I needed in my purse, and left the room.

“Consider it done,” she answered. “And thank you . . . I’m not sure you can imagine how this will change my life.”

The Tucker Errand was just chock full of firsts—I’d never heard a heartfelt thank you from a Client before. “I know it sounds trite, but you’re welcome.” I smiled as the elevator doors closed. “Good luck, Julie.” It was the first time I’d referred to a Client by their first name, but I couldn’t stand to address her by his last name anymore. She didn’t deserve that name, and he sure didn’t deserve her.

“Good luck to you as well.” Her voice held a hint of something, almost the equivalent of a nudge, but I didn’t have time to decipher it.

The elevator doors whooshed open, and I saw the limo pulling up to the hotel doors. For the next three hours, I had a part to play, my most challenging role to date. That’s what I was thinking as I made my way through the lobby. Nothing like feeling the pressure.

As I stepped through the sliding glass doors, before the driver could come around and open my door for me, Rob opened it and crawled out. I couldn’t decide what was more amusing: his mouth hanging open or his eyes as wide as pancakes. Both reactions meant I deserved some kind of award.

“You look . . .” Rob did the all-over once-over before his gaping mouth pulled into a slimy smile.

“I know.” I patted his cheek before climbing inside. “Every male head that turned as I passed by just now confirmed that.”

I was playing a hunch that the game I’d played with him yesterday would work again. The back and forth of dominance and submission was an intricate task, and one I wasn’t used to playing. Most of my Targets I left at arm’s length, letting them revel in the chase before slowly letting them creep closer, but Rob Tucker was in a field all of his own. He was like no one else, and not in a good way.

“Point me at who was checking out something that doesn’t belong to them, and I’ll gladly teach them some respect,” he said, glaring into the hotel before sliding in beside me.

“You’re good at that,” I said in a dryer tone than I’d intended.

“Good at what? Besides everything.” Rob slid up beside me, positioning his body tightly against mine.

In this game of cat and mouse, I slid a few inches away from him. “Teaching people respect. You’ve really got that talent down.” If I wasn’t aware of what his backhand felt like, I might have coated my reply in heavy sarcasm.

Rob twisted in his seat and picked up checking me out right where he’d left off. His eyes lingered on my legs. “My god, you really are a fiend.”

“A fiend in a cocktail dress.” I turned so I was facing him before
slowly
folding my legs, one over the other.

Rob licked his lips when his gaze wandered a bit north of my thighs. “A fiend in the sexiest dress a man’s ever laid eyes on.”

“You said to wear something nice. Does this constitute as nice?” I ran my hands down the material plastered to me like a second skin.

“No, Fiona, that’s not nice. That’s not nice at all.” When Rob tried to slide closer, I moved until I was up against the car door. “That dress makes me think naughty things and makes me want to do those naughty things to you right here, right now.”

I arched an eyebrow. “So you’re saying my dress is naughty instead of nice?”

“Extremely.” He nodded as his fingers grazed the material (barely) covering my thighs.

“Are you going to spank me? Punish me or something?” I paused, my gaze penetrating him. “Oh wait . . .”

“If you don’t stop acting so defiant, I just might,” he said, not quite as a threat, but close.

Since he wasn’t snarling and his fists weren’t compacted yet, I pressed a bit further. “If you think this is defiant, you obviously don’t know what kind of woman you’re dealing with.” To prove my point, I moved to the bench seat across from him.

There were the veins popping to the surface on his neck. There was the steam about to billow from his ears. There were the fists slowly twitching into position. Two steps forward, time for one step back . . .

“But defiance is overrated when a woman meets a man like you,” I added with that part-coy and part-worshipful smile I knew he loved and hated. It looked like it was exactly what he needed to calm his boiling rage. Patting the seat beside me, I waited for him to crawl next to me.

Draping his arm around me, he pulled me close and held me tightly enough that I wouldn’t be able to get away again. “A girl like you isn’t defiant, Fiona. A girl like you is confused.”

“That’s why I’m lucky to have found a man like you.” The words that felt like a betrayal to me and every woman weren’t difficult to deliver because I knew I was almost there—the end. I could literally feel the smile I would wear as I walked away from Rob Tucker later, and that made everything I had to say and do that much easier to carry out.

He nodded, giving my arm a rough squeeze. “To show you the error of your ways.”

No, Rob. It’s cute that you think you’re the mecca of mankind and all, but I’m here to show you the error of
your
ways. “So where are you taking me tonight? I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

“Who says I’m taking you anywhere? Maybe we’re going to stay inside this limo until I bend you over every flat surface in here.”

My skin should have crawled. That it didn’t and that I didn’t want to squirm away gave the final validation that I wasn’t going to let anything derail me. I was on auto-pilot until I walked into the closest bar and downed the cheapest shot in it.

“I’m ready when you are,” I said with a suggestive smile as I lowered my hand below his belt. “Actually, it
feels
like you’re ready right now. So where do you want me first?” I scanned the limo. No-show Contact aside, a limo was a bad location for a dozen different reasons.

“I admire your enthusiasm, but I stopped fucking girls in cars when I was eighteen.”

I gritted my teeth to keep from saying something I’d regret, but if he called me
girl
one more time, he was going to regret it. Actually . . . I hoped he did.
Come on, Rob, call me girl again. I dare you.

“I’ve got somewhere else in mind for tonight,” he said.

“A five-star restaurant followed by a penthouse suite perhaps?”

He glanced out the window. “If I wanted to share you with everyone else’s wandering eyes, I wouldn’t have told you to dress up.” He waved at my dress . . . or lack thereof. “This is for me and my eyes. You dress up for me and me only.”

Leaning in, I made sure my chest was brushing his shoulder before whispering, “I also
un
dress for you and you only.”

“Speaking of . . .” Rob looked out the window again before flashing a smile my way. “It’s about that time.”

“What time?”

“Undressing time.” Rob slid toward the door as the limo came to a stop, giving me an opportunity to peek out the window.

When I did, my mouth dropped open. I recognized the place, and not in a comforting at-least-I-know-where-I-am kind of way. I recognized it because that was where I’d started the Meet with the Client. The almost-mansion with shiny windows and immaculate grounds was the Tucker’s home. The place where he’d raised a family and his wife cooked dinners.

He’d brought me—the other woman—to his home for our first night together.

That was yet another first. Targets took their mistresses to hotels or their offices or maybe even second houses, but never had one brought me to his home. I didn’t need to read Rob’s mind to know which room or whose bed he planned to pull me into. Rob Tucker’s childhood must have been tumultuous for him to have grown into such a twisted man.

I realized Rob was watching me study the house. As far as he knew, I didn’t know where we were. I shouldn’t stare at it with a look of shock. I shouldn’t even be looking at it when he was close by and waiting for me to respond.

“Undressing time, huh?” I wiped the shock from my face and replaced it with mischievousness. “You first.”

“I can’t decide whether to kiss you or hit you when you order me around like that,” he said with narrowed eyes as the driver opened the door for us.

“There’s a third option, you know.” Sliding by him, I skimmed my fingers across his chest before exiting the limo first.

“Oh? What’s that third option?”

I heard his footsteps following me up the walkway. Glancing over my shoulder, I lifted an eyebrow. “Follow me, and I’ll show you.”

That was about all the convincing he took. He followed me up the rest of the walkway while I gaped at the house, hoping with everything inside of me that Mrs. Tucker was not home. Knowing what I knew of her husband, she may very well be inside washing the dishes from the dinner they’d just shared. She could be standing inside, waiting for my V, when he walked in with me and led me to their bedroom. The thought made me nauseated. Despite knowing Mrs. Tucker felt nothing for her husband—I’d guess she hadn’t for years—no woman deserved to watch her husband gallivant with another woman inside of her own home.

Swallowing back all of my what-ifs and reservations, I stepped up to the door. “Where are we?”

“My house. What do you think?” He shuffled keys from his pocket and opened the door.

Other than you’re a snake?
“Your house? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Fiona didn’t know anything about Rob’s personal life, but he’d given her enough to deduce that he probably had some sort of woman in his life. If I just went skipping inside of his house without the slightest reservation, he would have been alerted that something was off.

Rob swung the door open and walked through it, waiting for me to follow. Like the gentleman he wasn’t, he didn’t hold the door for me. “This is
my
home. Mine to do whatever I want in it, with whomever I want.”

“Okay,” I said tentatively, taking just as tentative of a step inside. “Should we be expecting any company tonight or is it fair to say our private events will be kept
private
?” Well, until the video’s shown in court at least.

“You don’t have to worry about another woman wandering in while you’re tits-up if that’s what you’re worried about. Tonight, you’re the
only
woman in my life.” Rob grabbed my hand and pulled me into the foyer. The house was very much like him—flashy and showy, yet still lackluster. “My wife’s out of town for the weekend.”

I broke to a stop—as any woman should have when they found out the man they’re “seeing” was married. “Your
wife
?”

He turned to face me, his expression the opposite of amused. “That’s right. My wife.” He waved at a family photo hanging on the wall across from us. “Now, since that’s out of the way, follow me.”

When he headed for the stairs, I planted my feet and crossed my arms. I had to go one more round of disbelief and anger. I couldn’t let my prior knowledge of Rob’s marital status and my eagerness to finish up raise flags of alarm. I didn’t want him to start asking himself why I was so eager to be with him after he’d put me in the hospital last week, and I didn’t want him to wonder why I’d brushed over the wife-bomb so quickly.

When he glanced back to find me glued to my spot, he gripped the handrail. “I could make you follow me, if you prefer.” His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.

“You’re married,” I stated, crossing my arms tighter. Gauging from the look on his face and how his body looked close to trembling from anger, I knew I couldn’t push it much further.

“That’s right. For twenty years or something.” Turning his back on me, he continued up the stairs. “Now get up here and take your clothes off. I didn’t seek your company to reminisce about my past.”

He’d disappeared down the second floor hall by the time I sucked in a breath and took my first step up the staircase. I pulled my newest phone out of my purse and got it ready. I didn’t know anything about the layout of the Tuckers’ bedroom or how I’d be able to hide my phone; all I knew was that if I didn’t manage to get the evidence, I had nothing.