Page 104 of Happily Never After

- Meeting with Mindy to narrow down applicants

“See you later?”Luke grabbed Claire around the waist and pulled her in tight.

Her toes curled, and warmth spread between her legs. She snuggled deeper. His clean linen scent mingled with the coffee wafting in from the kitchen. He pulled back, but she gripped tighter. His calm, steady presence was the glue that was holding her together. As soon as he left, she would have no choice but to confront her new reality.

How was she going to rebuild? Since coming to Los Angeles, she had been threatened, fired, andarrested. This whole trip had been a giant mistake. Thankfully, Brad hadn’t posted anything nasty on the internet yet. Maybe he would forget? Or wait until after the proposal?

The proposal she had given months of her life to. Planning, dream-boarding, calling, scheduling, emailing, bending over backward, and catering to every whim. Seventy-hour work weeks. Missed dinners with Luke and friends. And now it was all for nothing.

“Hey.” Luke put a hand on her cheek. His eyes locked onto hers, stormy and gray today. He pressed a kiss to the tender spot on her wrist where heavy duty BDSM handcuffs had bound her to the headboard the night before. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

She exhaled a long, slow breath. “Things can only get better, right?”

A grim smile formed. “I love you. Don’t leave the house, okay? Not unless Charlie or Bri is with you. And keep the security system armed.” He gestured to the new keypad on the wall.

Claire nodded, but her insides twisted. Today was Brad’s meeting with the ranch. Going there to spy on him was a stupid, dangerous idea. What would she gain from it other than more unbridled rage? It was stupid to chase after lost dreams, but she could at least do more research on ESA. The sleepwalking, the sabotage—none of it would stop until they were brought to their knees.

“I love you.” She tugged Luke close once more and kissed him. Their tongues danced, heat rushed to her face, and she had half a mind to pull him back upstairs.

“You’re killing me. I gotta go. Bye.” There was regret in his eyes as he kissed her on the cheek and left.

She twisted the sash of her robe in her hands as he hustled down the front steps. The sun slanted across the yard and illuminated him in a golden glow. His chest muscles rippled as he opened his car door. Butterflies danced in her belly. God, hewas gorgeous. He waved and shot her a half-smile as he reversed out of the driveway.

In his absence, the house was too quiet. Mindy had left in a cab earlier, bound for the airport. Rosie sat at attention at the backdoor, fixated on the squirrel that was trying to climb the bird feeder. Winston was next to her even though he couldn’t see anything.

Taking one final glance at the front door, Claire hustled into the kitchen and pulled out a paper map of Hollywood Mindy had picked up during a star tour. She spread it open on the kitchen table and dragged her laptop over. An email appeared from Mindy with a breakdown of five potential Los Angeles clients. Her flight must have had Wi-Fi.

Claire’s hand hovered over the mouse. They needed to pick some new couples, figure out next steps. But ESA was sabotaging her at every turn. What if they moved on to targeting her clients? Anyone she associated with could be in danger. She minimized the email and opened her web browser.

A dozen tabs stood open, each leading to a different news article. A handful of women had gone missing in Los Angeles County over the course of the last six months. Was it ESA, or was it some other lowlife? Maybe if she visited the locations where they disappeared, she could spot something that would lead her to them. It was probably crazy, but she had to start somewhere.

She glanced down at her list of names and typed them one by one into the search bar. As she read through social media accounts and, in some cases, Wikipedia pages, their lives unfolded before her. Several of the women seemed like classic ESA victims. A couple of executives, a winner of the Great American Barbecue, even a state senator.

A chill ran down her spine. All these high-profile women, and there was barely a blip on the news. Every single day womenwere at risk. Sitting by and letting these assholes continue to run amok was not an option. She had to do something.

She parsed the articles until she found the last known locations of the victims. Robin Turbot, the CEO of a chain of local health food stores, had disappeared from her gym on Hollywood Boulevard. She marked the location with a red X and perused the next article. Kyla Rivers, the owner of the Los Angeles Sparks, had gone to the bathroom at a club on Santa Monica Boulevard and never returned. Trebek Open Space had been the site of the disappearance of Letisha Humboldt, a tech CEO.

They were all over the place—Hollywood, Laurel Canyon, Universal City. She marked a dozen spots and stared at the map.

Were the places significant? Why hadn’t any of the women been found? Where was ESA operating from? There were so many questions. Someone very important had to be at the top. But Los Angeles was full of important people.

On a whim, Claire took a pencil and drew lines between the sites of the disappearances. At least half of the lines intersected over the Hollywood Hills. Her stomach clenched. Was this where ESA’s hideout was? She was no expert on LA, but she was fairly certain that the Hills were littered with celebrities and influential people. She couldn’t explain it, but something in her gut told her there were answers there.

She slammed her laptop shut, then immediately reopened it and calculated the distance between the Hills and the ranch. Twenty or thirty minutes. Not that she was going to do anything about it. Brad deserved to fail on his own. There were higher stakes.

She crossed the room and twitched the curtain aside. Luke was long gone, and the black Porsche was just sitting there. He would be furious if she left, especially after he just forbade her from doing exactly that. But the mystery beckoned. Until ESAwas brought down, nothing and no one was safe. It was time to act.

An hour later, Claire crawled through the winding streets of the Hollywood Hills. With any luck, she would look like any other touristy rubbernecker trying to catch a glimpse of George Clooney taking out his recycling.

Her phone beeped, and she jumped. Her heart hammered in her chest. Had Luke discovered that she left the house?

But no, it was only Mindy following up on her email.

“Sorry. ESA research. Video chat this afternoon?” she dictated to her car. The message was sent, and Mindy confirmed.

She passed yet another gated driveway leading to a mega mansion. Ugh. She was wasting so much time. She should have researched who lived in the Hills, which residents had a history of misogyny. It was probably a long list, but better than going in blind. The only thing she was catching was severe home envy.

Frustration grew as she crawled the streets. Gates and sun-drenched, Tuscan-inspired houses flanked her on each side, but there was no way of telling if anyone beyond those gates was in ESA. What was she expecting to stumble across? A giant penis fountain in the front yard? A basement full of female CEOs?

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