Page 1 of Poisoned Pawn

CHAPTERONE

STAR

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I grumble as the coat hanger hooked over my pinkie slips free, and the clothing bag holding my boss’ dry cleaning hits the floor with a clatter as the metal scraps against the front step. I shove the key in the lock and push the door open before bending to pick it up, then make my way inside. With my hands full, I march straight to the kitchen and dump my handbag and shopping on the counter before hanging Mr Graham’s suit over the door to the lounge on my way back to close the front door and collect my keys.

Every Friday since I started as Mr Graham’s PA, I take his dry cleaning to the same shop on my way home then collect it Monday morning before going to the office. When I arrived tonight the place was surrounded by police, and with no other dry cleaners close by, I drove straight home. I sent a message to Mr Graham explaining the situation but haven’t heard back from him. He’s very particular about where he gets his suits dry cleaned. God knows why because a dry cleaner is a dry cleaner.

I pull the keys from the door and am just pushing it shut when a silver car across the street catches my eye. As soon as they see me, they pull away and drive off down the street.

My phone rings in the kitchen drawing my attention, so I close the door and hurry to answer it before it rings off.

“Hello,” I say as I begin to unpack the shopping.

“Hey, girl. You ready for tonight?” Toni asks excitedly.

“Am I. This week has been shit.” I cradle the phone in the crook of my neck as I grab Mr Graham’s suit and climb the stairs. “Are you coming here first, or shall I meet you there?”

“Well, that depends on whether you plan on going home alone later.,” she says with a smile in her tone, and I picture her with her tongue in her cheek.

“No dick for me tonight,” I tell her, shaking my head.

“You still thinking about that last guy?”

“No, absolutely not.” It’s a lie. She knows it and I know it.

I hooked up with a guy two weeks ago and still have his fingerprint marks etched onto my arse cheeks.

Toni laughs down the line. “Okay, tell yourself whatever makes you happy. I bet you’ve got him on speed dial.”

“See you in a couple of hours. Bye, Toni,” I say, ending the call to a cackle of laughter.

I toss my phone on the bed, still unmade from this morning, and hang the suit over my wardrobe door as I open it to look for something to wear.

After thirty minutes of rummaging and flicking through everything in my wardrobe, I settle on a new khaki green two piece with wide leg trousers and a cropped cami top. I lay it on the bed before going for a quick shower.

I ignore the tingling between my thighs at Toni’s mention of the guy from the other week and the thought of his hand as it pinked my arse.

I don’t like that he’s on my mind.

I don’t do relationships.

Correction, I don’t do intimate relationships.

Nothing past sex—rough and hard.

I shake the thoughts away, not wanting my mind to slip into a place I’ve worked hard at getting out of over the last five years.

I’m just doing up my trousers when the doorbell rings out. I jog down to let Toni in.

“Damn, girl!” she says as she steps inside. “You sure you’re not planning to ride the pony tonight?”

“The pony?” I hang my head at her cheesy reference to Ginuwine’s song. Looking back up at her, I say, “Not even if Channing Tatum offered it to me on a plate.”

“I’m seriously beginning to question our friendship,” she jests, handing me one of the four bottles of beer she’s carrying then heads to the kitchen.

I trail after her, reaching her as she pops the top on her beer before handing the bottle opener to me. I do the same and take a deep swig.

Dropping the bottle opener to the counter, I say, “Come on. I need to finish getting ready.”

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