Page 23 of Winning Bid

“For an adult actress. Trina Malark is practically a child! We do not engage in that kind of thing, and we certainly do not encourage others to do so!”

“She is nineteen?—"

“Exactly!”

I laugh, shaking my head at him. “If she can be tried as an adult, she’s not a child.”

“I am not speaking in legalities, Anderson. I am speaking in morals.”

My second laugh explodes out of me. “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit? Since when do you, Elliot West, give a shit about morals?”

“All that money spent on a proper education and still you pepper your sentences with curse words like some drunken bar patron,” he mumbles to himself.

“Because you’re such a saint?”

“We both know I am not, but I save my spicier language for when it is appropriate.”

I smile, sitting back. “You a fan of that family show Trina was on?”

For once in my life, I see my father taken aback. It’s refreshing to see him on the shocked side of the equation. In fact, I’m practically giddy over it.

But his stunned expression vanishes in a flash. “We both know I do not watch television. Who has time for that nonsense?”

“So, if I text Mom right now and ask about it, she won’t confirm that you?—"

“Do not pester your mother with such things. She does not have time for your nonsense today.”

That doesn’t sound good. “She okay?”

“Fine, fine. Kitty has her annual doctor appointments today. All routine, nothing to worry over. But she’s too busy to entertain you.” He lets out an exasperated huff. I can’t tell if it’s for me or something else. “Fine. I liked Trina’s show. Are you happy?”

“I really am.” The thought of my father watching some family sitcom tickles me. The man, who has had countless people killed and beaten down, has a soft spot for the world’s most generic show. “Who’d have thought Elliot West?—"

He cuts me off with a flick of his hand. “Enough.”

“Is that why we rep for her?”

“No. We were hired to do a job. Her father, Abe, is a friend. He is none too pleased about my son recommending his daughter get naked on camera for money.”

“Ah. So, here’s the real answer. Your pride’s been bruised, and now you’re trying to save face with a friend.”

He leans over the desk, glowering. “Trina is a child, Anderson. I watched her grow up on that show. She’s not doing the Grainger film. Period.”

“This has nothing to do with your pride, does it? Is it because it grosses you out?”

“Get her to quit the film. That’s an order.” He resumes his normal position now that he’s laid down an order.

As endlessly amusing as I find this situation, I do not want to renege on my advice. It looks weak. “She’ll think I don’t know what I’m doing?—"

“Lie to the girl, Anderson. It doesn’t matter how you get her out of it. Just get her out of it. Tell her you heard the film is going to tank. Stir a rumor about Grainger himself. I don’t care how you do it. Just see it done.”

“Fine.” I shrug a shoulder. Now that’s over, I have other business to attend. Mostly to figure out what the hell I have to do to get the police off our backs. I give a tight smile, unsure what I’ll tell Trina about the Grainger film, but I’m pretty sure I could tell her anything, and she’d do it. She trusts me. “I’ll take care of it.”

But as I stand up to leave, he shakes his head. “We’re not done.”

“There’s more?”

“Sit.”

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