Page 19 of Monstrous Urges

The debt Poulter and Lenz owes is owed—in its entirety—to Roger Fairchild.

Which means we now owe that fuck four hundred million dollars, and he’s just called to collect. Effective immediately. But—shocker of all shockers—he’s willing to drop the debt, so long as we sell him Crown and Black at market rate.

“Alistair and Gabriel and I are going to have a meeting with the board tomorrow,” I mutter quietly. “But until then?—”

Eloise clears her throat, smiling past me. “They’re here,” she murmurs under her breath.

“Okay. No more shop talk, especially about this.” I glance at her and Fumi. They both nod before I turn to smile as our friend Tempest makes her way through the crowd toward us with Bianca in tow, along with two of her ballet friends, Milena and Naomi.

It’s funny. I’ve never been a “girl’s girl”. At least, not that I remember. In undergrad I was pretty much a loner, mostly because I had no family, no memories, and barely any money. When I got to law school, I immediately made friends with Gabriel and Alistair, and when did I have time to make female friends anyway?

So, it’s strange but not a bad thing that I’ve suddenly found myself with this whole squad of ladies. Fumi and Eloise, of course. But also Gabriel and Alistair’s little sister Tempest, who’s married to Dante Sartorre, head of Club Venom. Bianca, who recently married into the Drakos Greek Mafia family, who are also Crown and Black clients, is Dante’s little sister. She’s also an exceptional dancer in the Zakharova ballet company, which is how Milena and Naomi joined the squad.

The fire alarm about what’s happening with work is still there. But I allow myself to exhale and at least pretend to smile at the ladies around me as we order another round of drinks and lapse into normal conversation.

“What about you, Taylor?”

I blink, realizing I’ve been conjuring up ways to murder Roger Fairchild with my bare hands while staring at the bar. I yank my attention back to find the rest of them grinning at me.

“Sorry, what?”

Bianca laughs. “These two”—she jerks a thumb at Milena and Naomi—“were just complaining about being chronically single. I said single doesn’t sound that bad. I mean, you’re on your own and you’re fucking killing it.”

I roll my eyes. “Ah, yes,” I say, turning to nod sagely at the two much-younger-than-me girls. “Model your life choices on the thirty-three-year-old future cat lady who’s married to her career. Definite goals.”

Milena snorts, pushing a strand of blonde behind her ear. “Yeah, but, I mean, you’re a fucking boss. Corner office? Your name on the building? That sexy ass car?”

I smirk. “Cars don’t give you orgasms.”

The rest of them crack up.

“I don’t know,” Tempest sing-songs. “I’ve seen your car, and I’m not convinced it doesn’t.”

“And hey, you’re not necessarily single,” Fumi adds with a grin.

I shoot her a look.

“Oh?” Tempest perks up. “Do tell!”

“Nothing,” I mutter, glaring at Fumi with a “shut it” expression that she either misses or more likely ignores.

“Taylor was going to go on a date last night, but she bailed.”

“I didn’t—” I purse my lips. “I didn’t bail. I had to reschedule.”

“Oh yeah?” Fumi grins at me. “When did you reschedule for?”

“Hi, yeah, still your boss, in case you forgot.”

She and the rest of them laugh as Tempest gives me a hug. “Hey, you’re all of thirty-three. We’re not putting you out to pasture yet, you know.”

“Thanks. I feel so much better now.”

I roll my eyes, grinning. The rest of them lapse into a conversation involving some dating drama with another dancer at the ballet. I pull out my phone and flip to my group chat with Alistair and Gabriel:

Me

I have a solution

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