Page 29 of His Plaything (Slade, Inc.)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Morgan felt like an idiot as she sat alone in the club. Mr. Slade's suits were in her car, which just made her feel more like an idiot. She didn't really understand why Marcie had picked this place to meet up for the exchange. Why wouldn't they just meet at a coffee shop or something during the day? She slowly shook her head.

I guess it doesn't really matter. I just want this over with so I never have to deal with anything that has to do with Slade, Incorporated again.

Morgan took a sip from her beer bottle. Her eyes were burning from her near nonstop crying. She probably would be crying now except she didn't have any tears left. How did I lose him so quickly? I guess I truly am too boring for most men.

Morgan twirled the bottle around in her fingers on the bar and exhaled loudly. Now, she guessed, she needed to just focus on getting a new job.

"What's a pretty girl like yourself doing sitting alone?"

Morgan looked up to see a very handsome man standing next to the bar. He had a light brown beard, which matched his hair and eyes. His smile seemed genuine. He wore a tight white t-shirt under an unbuttoned blue and white flannel shirt.

"Drowning her problems."

His smile widened. "My type of girl." He took a swig of his beer before setting it down and holding out his hand. "I'm Brad."

Morgan hesitated for a few seconds before thinking that none of it mattered anyway. "Morgan." She shook his hand and noticed right away how warm it felt.

That intense feeling of loss almost had her shaking off her stool. She missed Mr. Slade and his touches so badly. Morgan tried to keep her smile plastered on her face for Brad's sake. He let go of her hand and tilted his head. Shit, he can probably see that I've been crying. How puffy are my eyes?

"Do you want to dance?" His eyes were a beautiful hazel color in the bar light.

She held her breath for a few seconds. She felt guilty already, but why should she? Mr. Slade had been lip-locked with Shay just hours ago and who knew where the hell that led them. Fucking in his office, I'm sure.

Morgan fought the urge to close her eyes and sigh. "Sure." She slid off her stool. I guess it's better than sitting here alone.

****

Those jackasses! Connor stomped toward the club next door. It wasn't a place he would ever go, and he doubted if it was a place for Morgan, either. How and why did this all happen? This is a fucking shit-storm.

Connor was still having trouble believing that Marcie was in on all this. Shay? Sure, but Marcie had been with Slade, Inc. for several years with zero problems. Well, I've never had a steady girlfriend in all those years, though. Was he flattered that she was trying to look out for him even if her actions were horrible? No, he was glad she was gone, along with Shay.

Finally, Connor entered the building. A young man stopped him and asked him for his ID. Connor barely looked at him as he blew past him. The man called after him, but Connor paid no attention. God save the next person that tried to stop him from getting to his girl.

He had to weave his way between several small groups of people talking and drinking. Connor almost knocked over a short female waitress that was trying to get back to the bar.

"Excuse me," he said as she gave him a dirty look.

Connor stopped on the edge of the dance floor and scanned the room. They were playing a disgustingly sappy love song. It was slow and annoying, but that was soon the least of his worries. His body jerked when he saw her. There was Morgan, in the arms of some asshole, slow dancing.

Connor's jaw was starting to feel sore as he tensed it again. A tremor ran down his legs, not from fear or chill but from pure, raw possessiveness. The other man ran his hand down her back, dangerously close to her ass. Connor took a deep breath, hoping that the other man wouldn't soon end up on the floor on his ass.

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