MANIC: Rook and Ronin, #2 Page 2

  Since Ronin feels the need to kiss ass with this Ford guy, I stretch out my hand and say, "Nice to meet you."

  He glares at me from light brown eyes under his furrowed brows. He does eventually reach out and shake my hand, but it takes a few seconds for him to decide to do this. I look over at Ronin as we shake and he smiles. His smile says, Be nice.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rook," Ford says unconvincingly. "We were given permission to install the cameras in your apartment, so the crew is in the process of doing that now."

  "Where's Spencer?" I ask after looking around. "And everyone else?" It's just me, Ronin, and this asshole named after a truck.

  Ford checks his watch. "Well, Ms. Walsh, you're quite late, I made special reservations at an exclusive restaurant downtown to celebrate our partnership, so they all went ahead." Then he disdainfully looks down at my clothes and winces. "You'll need to dress."

  My face heats up with embarrassment at how this man is treating me. "Who the hell—"

  "She's got an outfit, don't worry," Ronin says, pulling me towards the dressing room. "We'll meet you there."

  "What the hell was that?" I ask once we're safely on the other side of the dressing room doors.

  "That was called a pissed-off client, Rook, and typically when people are paying you a lot of fucking money to do a job, you try to avoid the pissed-off client. He was never on board with you in the first place, said you were too young, but Spencer insisted and he had a clause in his contract that he was in charge of picking the canvas."

  "The canvas." Wow.

  "Come on, now, put on the game face. You're in the contract, but this guy is just looking for way to make you screw up and have to pay him a bunch of money, so if you want to keep the cash you just made for TRAGIC, you'll have to be on your best behavior. Got it?"

  "Got it," I say as he hands me a pencil skirt, a crisp long-sleeved white shirt, and some low black heels. "This is what I'm wearing?" I'm a librarian. "Can I safely assume the accessories will include glasses on a chain and my hair in a bun? Should I shush people tonight?"

  These people have no middle. It's either sweet or trashy.

  "Just put it on, OK? We don't have time. Just trust me for once, will ya? I've been dressing models for five years, I know what I'm doing."

  I grumble, but after I put the outfit on and Ronin hands me a brush and a clip to keep my hair neat, I decide some librarians can be sexy and I'm definitely one of them. When I turn from the mirror he's exiting from the men's side of the closet buttoning up his shirt cuffs.

  We smile at each other.

  "I can't wait to get you in bed again," he growls.

  "Why wait?"

  He smacks my ass and pushes me out of the dressing room. "Be good tonight, it's important."

  I smile at that as we hop down the four flights of stairs that lead to the parking garage and then get in his truck. I take a deep breath as we exit onto the busy street outside our building and say a little prayer that this contract was a good choice.

  Chapter Three - ROOK

  The restaurant is at the top of a very tall building in downtown Denver. I have no idea what this building is called or anything else about it, but I don't dwell on it because as soon as we give the valet guy the truck, Ronin is practically dragging me to the elevator.

  "Shit, Ronin. Calm down, will you? You're making me nervous."

  "Sorry," he says, squeezing my hand. "Ford is pissed and that means Antoine is pissed, and not to sound like a jerk, but Antoine is pretty serious about the business side to the studio, it's got his name on it after all, so we try to keep clients happy and this is a huge contract, Rook. Huge. So play it cool, be nice, and smile sweetly. Please," he adds at the last second.

  I've never seen Ronin so… on. I'm thinking about how I really don't know him that well when the elevator doors open and he places a calming hand against the small of my back and gently guides me forward. He talks to the maître d' in French and they laugh like they're old friends, and then we're led past all the other diners and into a private area. Spencer's boisterous laugh fills the room as we enter as all heads turn to us. Antoine stands and walks over and takes my arm to place me in a seat next to him. Ronin shakes hands with all the suits and Spencer as he walks around the table to find his chair across from me.

  I look to my left and there's that Ford guy. I smile sweetly like I was told, then look past Antoine to Elise. She's prettied up in a dark red dress that looks like someone made it specifically for her tiny little frame. Her short blonde crop is gelled up to make little wisps of hair curve against her cheeks and forehead. She smiles at me and raises a glass, her champagne and dimples both sparkling at the same time.

  She's adorable.

  I pick up my champagne glass and raise it back, then take a sip and realize it's water.

  Ford leans into me a little, making me pull back. "You're underage, right?"

  I catch Ronin's glare across the table and put on the game face and talk in my sweetest voice. "So, tell me, Ford—is that a family name? Or did your parents just like trucks?"

  Spencer spits out his beer all over another suit guy and barks out a laugh. "Oh, Rook, I think the next three months with you will be the best of my life."

  I look over at Ronin and he's not happy. I look over at Elise and her dimples are gone. I try not to look at Antoine, and it's not that hard because he's directly to my right so all I have to do is look straight, but I don't need to see him because he leans down and whispers in my ear, "Behave, Rook."

  I turn to Ford. "No, seriously, it has to be short for something, right?" I bat my eyelashes at him and the rest of the table settles down and starts talking again. "Tell me, I'm interested. I have an unusual name myself."

  He smiles but it's so fake I want to tell him he needs to practice that shit in the mirror before he unleashes it on the world. "It's short for Rutherford. A family name, as you said."

  "Nice," I say. "I'm named after a chess piece myself, the rook. You know what the rook does, Ford?"

  He laughs a little. "Yes, Rook, I know. But Spencer told us you're named after a bird. Which was why he fell in love with you and insisted that you be the nude body he gets to paint up this summer."

  He says the last bit as he looks at Ronin, and this makes my heart beat a little faster. What's going on here? "Well, that too," I say, watching Ronin stare at Ford. "Uh, do you guys know each other?"

  "Oh, yeah," Spencer says from down the table. "Ford, Ronin, and I go way back. High school."

  "Oh, Catholic high school, right?"

  "That's right," Ronin says. "Ford was two years ahead of us."

  "Uh-huh." I wait for Ronin to continue but he drops it and starts talking to the suit guy next to him.

  I look up at Ford and he's smiling. But it's not a good smile and I feel a little protective of Ronin. It doesn't take a mind reader to get the fact that Ronin and Ford are not friendly.

  There's like a team of waiters just for us and they appear and talk to each of us personally about what we want. They don't have hamburgers or grilled chicken salads here because this place has nothing but French food.

  It's like my worst dining nightmare come true.

  Ford gets something I can't even pronounce and Antoine chats in French with the staff and then chooses a whole bunch of shit I can't pronounce. Finally I look across the table at Ronin and he's smiling.

  "Would you like me to order for you?"

  "Please choose the hamburger," I say, grinning.

  I'm pretty sure I'd understand hamburger in French, so I'm also pretty sure that's not what he gets me.

  After the food is ordered Elise announces she needs to go to the restroom and then walks up next to my chair and waits. "Oh, you want me to go with? OK." I get up and know she's gonna chew my ass out in there. Ronin lifts up his glass and gives me a cheers as I look at him for help.

  I suppose this is what I get for being mouthy.

  She whooshes the ladies' room door open a
nd right there in front of that towel person who stands around waiting for tips, she lays into me. "Do you have any idea what this contract is worth, Rook?"

  I shake my head.

  "Two point five million dollars."

  I almost choke. "Elise, I'm sorry. But he's kind of a jerk. He's baiting me."

  "He's baiting you," she says between clenched teeth, "because he wants you to screw up and forfeit the money. We got the contract, so as long as we fulfill it we get paid. But do you understand that he can dock us for things like being late?"

  I shake my head.

  "I'm only going to say this once. You work for us, you have a contract. You will be polite when you speak to him, he's your producer now. You will also be considerate of his time. Do you understand me?"

  I nod like a kid and Elise hands the towel person a twenty-dollar bill and walks out.

  I stare at the door as it whooshes closed and then look over to the attendant. She's a middle-aged woman in a tight uniform. "First time with the big shots?" she offers helpfully.

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah," she repeats as she pockets her tip in a crisp white apron. "Hope it's worth it."

  I follow Elise out and find her taking deep breaths just outside the door. "OK, I get it. I'll shut up and do what I'm told."

  She smiles. "Perfect. Now, please, use your talents for good, Rook. You're likable, he'll like you, just be nice. It's Ronin he hates, they've never been friendly, just tolerant." And before I can ask her about that she hooks her arm in mine and we walk back to the table like old friends.

  Dinner is a boring nightmare from my perspective, but from Ronin, Antoine, and Elise's perspective, it goes swimmingly. Ronin gets me some kind of meat—duck, I think. He's too busy chatting with the suits to pay much attention to me. Duck is not really my thing, so I skip most of the main course and concentrate on being polite to Ford. Everyone leaves happy, my transgressions are forgiven, and it's not until Ronin gets into his side of the truck that I let out a deep breath. "That was no fun at all."

  He gives me a long look, then puts the truck in gear and pulls out of the valet area. "I think you're going to be sorry for taking this contract, Rook, but there's nothing you can do right now. Even if you wanted out, they'd probably fine you."

  "Fine me for what?"

  "Breach, of course. You're stuck and just so you know, while we were all at dinner, those cameras went into your apartment. You're stuck for three months."

  "Can't I just stay with you?"

  "You don't get it, do you? You signed a contract, Rook. You agreed to be in the show and be the body painting model for Spencer. You also agreed to walk down the main drag at Sturgis with nothing on but a very small thong and what amounts to two band aids over your nipples. In addition, you will appear on stage naked in front of five thousand drunk bikers for the final show. So whether you like it or not, whether you want to do it or not—you're stuck. You signed up for this and they're gonna hold you to it."

  I turn away and look out the window as we stop at the light in front of the baseball stadium. "I should've listened to you, right? That's what this is about. I should've taken your advice, let you make decisions for me."

  He drives forward at the green light and then eases us into the parking garage under the studio. He pulls into his spot and turns the truck off and we sit in silence. "Well, yeah. I would've told you to do something else. Less money, but less exposure, too. But," he says, taking my hand, "I have more bad news. I have to drive up to Steamboat tomorrow to see Clare. She's causing a whole bunch of trouble apparently and she needs some support. She's got a couple months left in treatment and if she leaves now, she'll just go back to it and we might never get another chance to save her again."

  "How long will you be gone?" My heart suddenly feels heavy. "I don't want you to go."

  He gets out of the truck and comes over to my side and opens the door. "You'll be OK, Antoine will take care of you. Elise is coming with me, but Antoine has to stay, of course."

  We walk slowly to the elevator. "OK," I say. Because it's not like I have a choice in this. He's leaving to help Clare and I'm stuck here working on a job I probably never needed and very much do not want to do. "Can't I stay with you one more night?"

  I expect him to agree. I mean, how could he deny me that?

  "No, Rook. You have to stay in your apartment, babe. You have to or they'll fine you for that too. And look, I know it's hard, but it's temporary. Once this is over you won't take another contract without a lawyer, OK?"

  "Yeah," I say as the elevator doors open and drop us off on the fourth floor. He walks me out on the terrace and over to my garden apartment door and we stop. "I'm done signing contracts."

  "Good, Gidge. Because even though you hate it, I really do know what's best for you right now." He leans down and kisses me, his hands lingering for just a moment on my hips, then pulls back. "I have to go pack, but I'll come by in the morning and say goodbye before I leave, OK?"

  "OK."

  "The cameras are in every room except the bathroom, but there's one outside the door—they wanted to be able to see you getting ready, I guess."

  "Lovely."

  "Just keep the door closed and you'll have privacy."

  Great, so the only place in my tiny apartment where I can be alone is in my bathroom with that godawful claw-foot tub that I hate.

  "You're gonna be OK?"

  I sigh. "I'm sure I will, I mean, I'm not happy, but I'm gonna live, right?"

  "No more contracts," he whispers as he kisses me again. "No more." I nod in agreement as he tears himself away and opens my door. "See ya in the morning, Gidge."

  I give him a smile for being so helpful and concerned. "Later, Larue."

  He laughs and walks back to the studio.

  I go inside and find each and every camera. They are little mirrored dome things. I walk up to each one—three in the living room, one in the hallway outside the bathroom, and one just outside of the bedroom, pointing at my bed. I stick my tongue out at each one, then rearrange my bedroom furniture so that camera that thought it was gonna watch me sleep has a very limited view.

  It might not give me total privacy, but at least that eyeball isn't beaming directly down on me anymore.

  I change in the bathroom, then turn out the lights and lie in bed, totally creeped out.

  Chapter Four - RONIN

  Ford is waiting near the studio windows when I walk in, his back to me, his stick-up-his-ass posture as erect as ever. It's been years and still the sight of him makes me want to punch his face in.

  "Where'd you find her?" he asks without turning around.

  "She found me."

  "What's wrong with her?"

  "She's a nice girl, Ford. So stay back. She'll do her job, don't worry."

  "I'm not worried. So, where are you off to?"

  "Clare. She's in rehab up in Steamboat—"

  "Again?"

  "Shit, Ford. Way to be an asshole. Have a little sympathy."

  "She's been broken for how long now, Ronin? Three years? More? Hell, maybe she was never right, did that ever occur to you?"

  "This time's different. She just needs some support."

  "Like all the other times?"

  "OK, I'm done here. You hate her, she hates you—shit, I hate you. I'll see you when I get back. And don't bother Rook, she's not handling things well right now." I don't wait for an answer, I just walk over to the stairs and head to my apartment.

  "Feels like old times, don't you think?" Ford calls out after me.

  "No, Ford. It doesn't." Asshole.

  When I get to the top of the stairs I can hear Elise and Antoine arguing in French. I head over and punch the code on the door. They hear the beeping and immediately stop the argument. When I walk in Elise is so angry her face is bright red.

  "God, what? Seriously, Elise? Stop it!"

  "What's going on, Ronin? If this is part of one of your jobs, leave us out of it!"

  "It's not! Antoi
ne, tell her. This whole project is legit! I had nothing to do with it. Do you really think I want to work with Ford and Spencer? Shit, you guys are the ones who wanted the fucking contract! I'm the one who said no! Now my fucking girlfriend's stuck in the middle, she's got no idea what I used to do, and the whole fucking thing is about to blow up in my face! There's a lot of shit that really is happening, Elise, so I do not need you accusing me of shit that's not!"

  She pours herself a shot from the bar and downs it, slamming the glass on the polished wood for emphasis. "If I find out the three of you are working again, I will turn you in. Do you understand? I will not risk everything we've built here for these stupid schemes you guys cook up!"

  I take a deep breath because Elise is trippin' right now. She's got every right to be wary, pissed off, even. So I just try and remain calm so she'll get over it sooner. It's no use arguing with her, because she's right.

  "And I'm not about to hang out here and watch," she says, looking at me. "I'm going up to Steamboat, so you assholes stay here and do your jobs." She looks over to Antoine. "I'll go save your niece."

  She storms off and leaves us alone. Antoine wipes his face with his hands. "She's angry," he says in English. "She was not expecting Ford to be part of this deal."

  "No, Antoine, she's pissed. I had no idea Ford was in on this shit either, Spencer never told me dick and he told Rook even less. And look, I love Clare just as much as you guys do, but I'm obligated to help Rook for this contract. I have to be here for her."

  "Ronin, please. You're the only one Clare listens to. Give it a few days, that's all. Just a few days of your time to see that she's getting the care she needs and she's on her way back to us."

  I sigh. How the hell can I say no to that? I mean, this guy—he picked Elise and me up after our lives fell apart. He's been there for me since I was ten years old. And even though I've never thought of him as a father, or even a brother for that matter, he's the closest thing I have to family aside from Elise.