Page 5 of Shattered

Hartley looked away, trying to figure out how to put a positive spin on that.

“Before you try to bullshit me, I know everything,” Yuki said, now lacing her fingers in her lap. “But I understand you wanting to bullshit me. That’s served me well in negotiations. Fluster them with lies until you can get your shit together.”

Hartley sighed. “So you know about the pop star, the Treehouse fire—”

Yuki nodded. “—the stolen laptop, the trashed Sun House, and the unhinged client who’s behind all the shit. He’s gone underground, according to what Porter and Bella found out. Yes, I know about all of it. Also that Davos is calling in his investment despite your…best negotiations.”

“Well, fuck me,” Hartley muttered, shaking her head. She looked down at her hands, every crack in her shattered dreams exposed. She didn’t like the feeling.

“If it was anyone else, I’d be paying off Davos and taking my company back.” Yuki leaned forward on her knees. “But you’re not like anyone else. After me, you’re the definition of boss bitch.”

“Even though I know shit about being a boss?” she asked, grabbing her cosmo and burying her face in the glass before Yuki could see the sheen of angry tears in her eyes. There was no fucking way she’d let the woman see her cry.

“Boss is just a title. You used to know what you wanted and wouldn’t let anything get in your way,” Yuki said in a clinical voice. No emotion, no judgment, just a simple statement. “So. What do you want?”

“Your drink, Ms. McKay,” murmured Tamara on her right, placing yet another cosmo on the table.

Hartley stared into the beautiful red drink, wishing it was already in her stomach and smoothing the edges off the uncertainties that swam inside. “I don’t have… I’m not sure I have a specific answer to that,” she managed, pressing her lips together when she felt them tremble.

“Okay,” Yuki agreed. “Answer this. Do you want me to bail you out? I can make all this go away and you can get back to whatever you’d be doing if you weren’t running Cavendish.”

If I wasn’t running Cavendish. The words felt foreign. The last year had been devoted to making Cavendish work. Every day, every second, every fucking breath.

Except one night, a sneaky voice reminded her.You devoted every second of that night to a man.

No. She refused to lethiminto her thoughts.

“I don’t want anybody to bail me out,” she snapped, forcing the image of a broad, muscular frame to the back of her mind.

Yuki nodded, a hint of appreciation in her eyes.

“How much time can you give me?” she asked.

Yuki stared at her, then at the drink she held before zeroing back in on her eyes. Hartley set the drink down, meeting her gaze as confidently as her buzz would let her.

“Ten days. Get everything sorted and back on track, or I’m buying Davos’s investment,” Yuki said. She held her hands out. “That’s the best I can promise.”

“Ten days,” Hartley repeated, swallowing. “Do you have any advice for dealing with what’s waiting for me back there?”

“You mean the body?” Yuki asked. “I suggest you find, and end, whoever put it in the ground.”

Ten days to fix all the shit that had rained down on her for the last year? Stave off a lawsuit from Davos, find a few epically wealthy clients, and find a killer?

“Hartley,” Yuki murmured, a manicured finger tapping the arm of her chair. “It’s okay to admit you need help with this. It’s a tall order.”

Hartley bristled. “By help, you mean handing it back to you.”

Yuki gave her a close-lipped smile and a shrug.

“I can do this,” Hartley insisted, and for a second just saying the words made her believe them.

“Is Montgomery still hanging around?” Yuki asked. “If he has some connections—”

“He’s out of the picture,” she stated.

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Yuki noted.

“He’s been around, but honestly, his presence is a complication, not a help.”

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