Page 103 of Miss Trust

Chance

Ireplayed last night over and over in my head as I sat in my office the next morning. Had I let insecurity over Reid’s words sabotage my prospects at a chance to have a relationship with Tory? Still, even if I had acted rashly, it was evident she didn’t feel very strongly about me. I’d missed her after only a couple days, but she hadn’t admitted to any similar longing. And when I’d brought up staying exclusive, she’d sought to end our agreement.

Dammit. If breaking things off was the right thing to do, then why did I have this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach over losing her? I scrubbed a hand over my face. As much as I’d have loved to focus on Tory, I had another important task taking unfortunate priority.

“You ready to go through the plan?” Agent Smith asked.

No. Not at all. But in exchange for the FBI leaving my family alone, I’d agreed to introduce him to people who knew people who were involved with the Scarlett Letter. It was important to work this organically. He’d go undercover, I’d make the first introduction, and he’d have to navigate the deal from there.

“I’m ready.” I took out my phone to check if I’d received anything from Tory. Nothing. Maybe I should send her a text. But what could I possibly say?

“You’ll have to put your phone away. No distractions. Tonight is critical.”

I fixed my glare on Agent Smith, and his hands went up in mock surrender.

“I recognize you’re accustomed to being in charge. But this is my territory,” he said. “Just trying to ensure it goes off without a hitch.”

Without a hitch was important. I wanted him gone from my life. In fact, after our little party tonight, I intended to fly to Dubai to sell my shares of the Scarlett Letter. And I planned to go clean with all future investments. Maybe I wasn’t as selfish as Reid liked to paint me.

“Did you hear me? This is my field of expertise, and everything needs to go as planned.” Smith’s words were punctuated with irritation.

My gaze narrowed on the agent. I wasn’t in the mood for him nor for what we had planned tonight. “This may be your territory, but the club is my place of business. And tonight goes off without a hitch because I remain in charge. Anything less will tip them off immediately. Do you understand, Agent Smith? Or shall I call you something different for the purpose of this evening?”

It gave me immense satisfaction to see his temple throb and know I’d managed to rattle the stoic agent. “You can call me Dylan.”

“That your real name?” I doubted Dylan Smith was a real person.

Irritation flashed in his eyes. “What do you think? Do we need to go through the plan again?”

“No. I have it down. You realize you need to be flexible when things don’t go as intended?”

I never took for granted things would go as expected. Instead, I was always ready for things to go awry and prepared to react when it did.

“I’m not a flexible kind of guy. We should stick to the script.”

“We will stick to it until the script needs to change. These are rich, spoiled party guys, so they’re unpredictable. If you want this to work out, then you will have to put the same amount of trust in me that I have in you.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “So bare minimum. Fine.”

We met the two men in one of my private VIP lounges. They were both huge investors in strip clubs all over the world. Sin was their game, and connections were what the agent was after. I introduced Dylan as a new investor on the scene who had millions burning a hole in his pocket. I had to give him credit. He played his part well. He was cool and not too eager. If he had been, it would’ve tipped them off.

Of course, there were girls—strippers—attending to us in the VIP lounge. As Chance Maxwell, club owner, I was expected to provide such for my guests. It was expected I’d partake, as well, as that was my reputation even now, when I was in my thirties. So it was all part of the ruse when Holly, one of the strippers, straddled my lap. I couldn’t help tensing. I wasn’t into this at all, but for the sake of the setup, I had to pretend. I forced my arm around her, but when she started kissing my neck, I took the opportunity to quietly tell her to stop. The only woman I wanted kissing me was a sassy blonde—even if she had no idea how twisted up she had me.

It was all going according to plan until Jerry, the head guy among the investors, decided to deviate from Agent Smith’s script. “Let’s head somewhere more exciting. I have a penthouse in Vegas calling our names.”

I flicked an I-told-you-so look toward Agent Smith and wished there was a way for me to back out of this party. Knowing I didn’t actually have an option, I took what control I could.

“We’ll take my plane.” I’d put it on standby, just in case.

Hours later, we were all sitting atop Vegas in Jerry’s penthouse. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves except me.

It was three o’clock in the morning when Dylan sidled up to me on the balcony overlooking the strip. I nearly growled at him. It wasn’t his fault I was stuck here, but it wasn’t not his fault either.

“We’re good. The next introduction has been made, and you’re free to go.”

“Is my obligation fulfilled?”

“Yes. We won’t bother your family with any questions. Want some unsolicited advice?”