Page 7 of Daddy's Rule

"Oh, so it hasn't been voted on yet? It's not set in stone? The wheels aren't in motion?"

"Umm…" Lennon was the only one to even attempt to answer, but his non-answer told me all I needed to know.

"What the hell, guys? Does my opinion just not matter anymore?"

"It's not that, Nyla. Of course it's not that. You just haven't had an active role here in years and we didn't think you'd care. We figured you'd notice when the checks started getting bigger. I'm sorry. If we had known you were coming into town, of course we would have waited and talked to you. It’s really good to see you." Bas opened his arms for a hug again and this time I stepped into them.

His embrace was the first time I really felt like I was home and I almost melted into his arms, ready to break down and tell the guys everything. But I couldn't yet. Instead, I stepped away and waved the flier again.

"Well, I'm here, for an indeterminate amount of time, and I want to help. What can I do?"

The guys exchanged worried glances, but not one of them asked why I was there, or where Jake was. I saw Theo smirk at Bas and wondered what that was about.

"Hello? Guys, I mean… I still think this is a stupid idea, but how can I help?"

"Well…" Theo walked across the room until he was standing in front of me and Bas. "We need a test subject."

"A what? Tell me you do not mean what I think you mean." I had played with every man in the room once upon a time, but that was different. It was always no strings attached, and I’d held the real power. This sounded like definite strings.

"Oh, but he does." Bain had always been the cockiest of the group. "See, it's not even off the ground yet. We put that flier up ten minutes ago, and you've already torn it down. Just think of all the potential clients you're costing us as we speak."

"Oh, as if!"

"He's not wrong, Nyla. There's a need for this. There's a definite market." Bas was still holding my waist and he reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. "We haven't heard from you in almost a year and you suddenly turn up with no warning and barrel in the door screaming at us?" He met my gaze, and I could feel his scrutiny. "When did you get here?"

I squirmed. The guys and I were besties, business partners, equals, but Bas had always had a power over me. One knowing look from him and I suddenly felt like a naughty little girl.

"I drove in last night," I whispered, shame coloring my cheeks. If I admitted what Jake had done, if I spoke about it out loud, it made it real, made it hurt. But Bas, Theo, Archer, Lennon and Bain… they were my guys. They had my back no matter what. If I couldn't tell them, who could I tell?

Bas was frowning at me, but he didn't say anything, just waited for me to keep going.

"I'm in my apartment. For a while. And I might need an advance on this month's profits."

Five heads jerked. I felt it rather than saw it. I could sense their gazes on me and knew I had better start talking. "Jake… I was gonna leave him. He must have figured it out. He cleaned out our bank account."

"Bastard!" Theo hit the table as he yelled. "What have I always told you about keeping all your money in one place? What did I tell you about joint bank accounts and not having an escape route?"

"I know, but Jake insisted."

"Oh really? Did he? Shocking." Theo’s voice was laced with sarcasm and anger.

"I was working on setting up a second account. I was about to start squirreling money away. That’s how I found out. I went to withdraw money so I could get an apartment, but it was all gone." I rushed to defend myself as I looked over at where Theo was sitting. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bas silenced him with a shake of his head.

"C'mon guys, lay off. Getting on her case isn't gonna do any good now."

"Thank you." I sighed and leaned my head against his chest. "I feel like such a screw-up."

"You're not a screw-up. You were just in love. It makes us do crazy, stupid things."

"I guess."

"I know." With his arm looped around my waist he guided me to the oversized leather sofa that sat dead center in the room we called an office. It was more like a private owner’s lounge. "Bartender," he called out to Lennon, "get this girl a drink."

Lennon fixed my favorite, a berry mojito, and came out from behind the small bar to set it down on the table in front of me with a flourish. "Regardless of the reason, Nyla, it’s good to see you. It’s nice to have you back."

Lennon sat down in a recliner opposite the sofa and soon the others crowded around us, all of them talking a mile a minute while we rushed to catch up on each other's lives.

I sipped my drink and looked around with a smile. God, it felt good to be home.

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