“Don’t worry. I can guarantee one hundred percent compliance with your security protocols. My team is the best in the business.”
Chase had to stifle his laugh at the blowhard sitting at the other end of the makeshift conference table. He could feel Jaxson’s growing agitation with the way the day’s meetings were going. Lola had hired the most expensive recruiting firm in the region. They’d promised to endorse only the strongest candidates to fill the top positions for both clubs. So far, each applicant they’d met was more disappointing than the last.
Jaxson pinned the would-be head of security with a stern glare before asking, “And just how do you propose you’d go about that considering I haven’t shared even one of our security protocols with you yet?”
The idiot was too stupid to realize how foolish his boast had been. “The recruiting agency shared your security protocols with me, of course.”
“Really? That’s interesting since we didn’t share our plan with them either,” Jaxson said.
For the first time the interviewee, Rob Starr, hesitated. “Well, I mean, it’s a club. How unique could the procedures be compared to the other half a dozen clubs I’ve run?”
Chase reached into his briefcase, pulling out the half-inch thick manual they’d created the year before at Black Light in D.C. They’d created the handbook after a serious security breach nearly cost them the entire club within a month of opening.
He tossed the book into the middle of the large sheet of plywood they’d put across two sawhorses to create a table. “That’s how unique the protocols can be. That’s our security binder for just one of our clubs on the East Coast.”
The candidate, realizing he had over promised, tried to discredit Chase next. “Well, sorry, but I’m the only security professional in the room. I think my experience weighs a bit more when talking about security procedures than a book created for a club thousands of miles away.”
Chase ground his teeth in frustration at the asshole’s condescending tone.
Jaxson countered, “And as the owners of the club, I think mine and Chase’s extensive experience in choosing our key staff weighs a bit more than yours. You’re dismissed.”
The surprised look on the guy’s face before he started to argue back was priceless. “Now, wait a minute. You’re making a big mistake.” The idiot in the immaculate suit and neatly cropped hair continued, “Mr. Rivera promised me I was a shoe-in for this position and that it would come with a six-figure base and monthly bonuses.”
“Mr. Rivera is a minority investor. Extreme minority.” Jaxson chuckled. “He can’t promise jack shit, particularly when he didn’t even bother to pick up the phone and call me with his dubious recommendation. Now, please leave. We have more people racked and stacked, waiting for their chance to be interviewed.”
As the blowhard shot to his feet in a huff, Chase couldn’t resist getting in his own jibe. “And just a piece of advice for your next interview. Don’t ever guarantee one hundred percent success of something before you’ve even reviewed the job responsibilities. It just makes you sound like an idiot.”
He caught Jaxson nodding his head in agreement out of his peripheral vision just before Lola leaned into his Dom’s other side, placing her hand intimately on his forearm before whispering against Jaxson’s ear, “This is the best candidate. You need to reconsider.”
Chase gritted his teeth again, this time to stop from commenting. He had originally thought Emma was exaggerating when she’d complained about Lola’s aggressive pursuit of Jaxson. Now that he’d opened his eyes and paid more attention, Emma was absolutely right.
The bitch needed to go as soon as the clubs were opened.
Jaxson wasn’t deterred in the least, answering her quiet comment with a loud, “My mother could do a better job at keeping our clubs safe than that pompous jerk. If that’s the best California has to offer, then we’re in some serious trouble.” He yanked his arm out of her grasp, making Chase want to cheer.
“Well, I don’t know if we’re going to have any new candidates in time to meet our timeline. The only other guy here for security isn’t qualified to lead the team. And don’t forget we’re still looking for the club manager.”
Chase silently added ‘and a Dungeon Master’ to Lola’s running list of hiring needs. He was seriously beginning to doubt they would make their cutoff dates.
Jaxson was every bit as stressed as he was. Chase couldn’t remember seeing his longtime friend and lover as agitated as he had been in the last few weeks. His naturally dominant Dom had become downright grouchy about how things were going. Normally the jovial one of their trio, even Chase was having a hard time staying positive under the tense conditions.
Still, he was worried about Jaxson who hadn’t been sleeping well. Chase pushed down his own anxiety, knowing Jaxson needed him to be the calming force he often was.
Chase slipped his hand into Jaxson’s lap, stroking down his Dom’s thigh and back up again. He leaned close enough to talk softly into Jaxson’s ear. “Take a deep breath.”
Jax turned, their gazes connecting and, had he been standing, he would have toppled over from the hardness staring back at him. Jaxson was in a dark place. Contractors and construction crews worked around them to turn the already gorgeous private residence into one public and a second private club as Chase let his hand move to Jaxson’s face, gently stroking the day old, and sexy-as-fuck, stubble on his best friend’s clenched jaw.
He spoke gently, letting the love for the remarkable man flow out. “I mean it. Everything will be fine. This is just work shit.” With relief, Chase could feel Jaxson’s jaw unclench as he internalized Chase’s encouragement.
“We can’t open without a fully staffed and trained security team. All I can think to do is fly Blake out and put him on temporary assignment out here until we can find someone full-time.”
Chase hated the twinge of desperation in Jaxson’s normally confident voice. “You know that’s not an option. He’s only a few semesters away from getting his criminal justice degree. He can’t leave D.C. midterm.”
“You think Daniel could handle it?” Jaxson asked, grasping at straws.
Before Chase could answer, a voice interrupted their private conversation. “Excuse me, Mr. Davidson. Mr. Cartwright. I’d like to help if I can.” The deep voice came from a few feet away, the speaker’s accent thick.
The men turned in unison, looking to match a face to the sound. On the surface, the candidate was dressed appropriately for an interview—black slacks, white button-down shirt, and grey textured tie. Having spent years on the runway and in front of fashion cameras, Chase honed in on the details that told him just how uncomfortable the guy was in that tie.
He had earlobes with stretched holes, piercings in his right eyebrow and left nostril, and colorful tattoos bright enough to be seen through the thin, off-the-rack white shirt, with tendrils of what looked like an ink octopus sneaking out from the wrist cuffs. By the time Chase finished his assessment, returning his gaze to the guy’s face again, the dude was smiling.
“I know. I may not look like Mr. Corporate America, but I’m fucking good at what I do.”
Jaxson probed, “And what exactly is that again?”
Only then did the guy look down, grabbing a few sheets of paper and a small business card from the leather portfolio pad, moving closer to hand them to Jaxson.
“Miguel Martinez. I’m applying for the Head of Security position.” Chase wasn’t impressed until he added, “Ryder Helms is the one who recommended I apply.”
“How the hell do you know Helms?” Jaxson questioned.
The guy looked uncomfortable before eventually answering. “Let’s just say our fathers were part of the same family up in Santa Rosa.”
Chase knew just enough about Ryder’s history to know not to ask the candidate any personal questions. The guy’s use of the word ‘family’ was clue enough.
He had almost forgot Lola was there until her shrill voice interrupted from behind them. “This is a waste of our time.”
Jaxson cut her off. “You’re right. Chase and I can handle this. I’m sure you have something more important to be doing somewhere else in the club.”
She huffed before turning to leave. They could hear her heels clicking on the marble flooring as she stomped away.
“Let’s continue. What kind of experience do you have?” Jaxson asked, reaching out to take the guy’s resume, glancing over it as he answered politely.
“Well, for starters, I’ve been the head of security at The Office, our… clubhouse for almost eight years. It’s a mixed purpose location, based on the time and day. We also have some rather unique security concerns, similar to what I understand you might be facing.” The guy chose his words carefully.
“And just what exactly did Helms tell you about our unique security concerns?” Jaxson pressed, obviously agitated that Ryder might have shared info he shouldn’t have with a non-member.
“Not much, but enough to know I’m interested in the position.”
“I see. I have it on good authority Helms is compiling his own crew of security personnel for his new business venture. Why would he send you my way? Why not hire you himself if you’re so good?” Jaxson’s question was spot on, and Chase turned to the man to see how he’d answer.
Miguel smiled broadly. “I just got married.” He paused, holding up his left hand proudly to show them the gold wedding band as if they were playing a game of show and tell. “It’s why I’m trying to get a better job and distance myself from The Clubhouse a bit. Ryder’s offer would have had me traveling out of town, and even out of the country, for long periods of time with little to no forewarning. That isn’t a good fit for me right now.”
Jaxson looked up, an unreadable glare on his face. “We’re not looking for someone who needs a nine to five. Working here will be the antithesis of that on the days the clubs are open. We also plan on hosting events on other days. Hell, even when we’re closed, we’ll need twenty-four seven security in place.”
“Do you mind me asking some questions?” Miguel inquired.
“Shoot.”
“What is the security budget per month?”
Jaxson glanced at Chase for support before answering. “I’ll get that number to you if we hire you. Emma handles the budgets and finances. She has the day off.”
“Okay. Have you worked up your staffing model yet?”
Crickets.
“Do you at least have any personnel hired yet?”
“We have most of the key positions filled with the exception of Security and the Club Manager. We’ve had four guards rotating through security shifts since we closed on the property. They seem to be doing an okay job, but I’ll let the head of security decide if they want to keep them on or replace them with their own team.”
Miguel nodded, looking back and forth between the two owners. Chase liked his easy confidence as he assured them, “It shouldn’t take me more than a couple of days to work up the staffing plan. We may need to use a few rent-a-cops for the first few weeks until we find the right permanent team members. From what I understand we’ll need to choose wisely. Privacy and anonymity for our guests will be critical.”
He was saying all the right things. He was light-years better than the last asshole, but he was also being presumptuous. They hadn’t given him the job yet.
Before they could seal the deal, Jaxson’s phone started vibrating on the plywood. Chase assumed his lover would let it roll to voicemail. He was wrong.
“Hey, Helms. I see you’re sending me your castoffs.”
Chase loved seeing the first genuine smile he’d seen in weeks on Jaxson’s lips as he gave their friend shit. It didn’t last long.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Jax shouted.
A knot turned in Chase’s gut the second Jaxson’s smile turned to a dark scowl. His lover sought his gaze as he listened to Ryder shouting so loud, Chase could hear the mumbled reverberations.
“Stop! You’re not making sense!” Jaxson bellowed.
Chase hated only being able to hear one side of the conversation. He moved closer to try to hear some of Ryder’s commentary and Jaxson changed the call to speakerphone. Ryder’s tense admonition echoed off the walls of the grand foyer they were standing in.
“You guys need to get your heads out of your asses and quick.”
Jaxson’s dark mood was back in spades. “I don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about, and I don’t care. Put Emma on.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She left.”
“That’s not possible. I told her to stay put and we’d pick her up when we were done.”
“Well, that was before things blew up.”
“WHAT?” Jaxson screamed into the phone.
“Relax. I meant figuratively. Not physically. Wait. Are you telling me she’s not there yet?”
The knot in Chase’s gut exploded as he intruded into the conversation, “What time did she leave there?”
They could hear Ryder putting his hand over the phone to muffle his conversation with Khloe before he got back on the line.
“She left at least three hours ago, probably more like four. I was gone all day. I knew right away something was wrong when I got home.”
“What are you talking about? Is she sick? And if she is, why the hell would she leave?”
“You need to talk to her about it, man,” Ryder cautioned.
“Well, I’d love to, except she’s not here!”
Chase could hear the panic in Jaxson’s shout, and his imagination started to run wild. The paparazzi were relentless. The kooks were everywhere. He could count on one hand the number of times Emma had gone anywhere without one of her lovers or at least a security escort. The thought of her out in the unfamiliar city… on her own… needing them…
Jaxson pressed for more information, “What aren’t you telling me? Did Khloe and Emma get into an argument or something?”
“Not exactly.”
“That’s not an answer. Put Khloe on the phone,” Jaxson demanded.
“No.”
“Excuse me? Emma is missing and you’re refusing to help me figure out why the hell she left against my orders?”
“Khloe can’t help with that. Like I advised, you need to sit her down the second she gets home and not let her out of your sight until she tells you the truth of what’s going on in that pretty head of hers.”
Chase’s hands shook as he pulled his own phone out. She hadn’t called — or texted. While Jaxson yelled at Ryder, he pressed SEND. His favorite picture of the three of them filled his iPhone as the call rang and rang, eventually rolling to Emma’s cheery voicemail asking him to leave a message.
Fuck that. He hung up. His fingers trembled so much that it took several tries to get his CALL ME RIGHT AWAY message sent. The bubble was green instead of blue.
Fuck. Her phone was dead.
Tears filled his eyes, but he wiped them away. He needed to hold it together.
Jaxson wasn’t doing much better. When Ryder ended the call, repeating that the men needed to talk with Emma as soon as possible, Jaxson lost his shit, picking up his phone and throwing it against the wall closest to them so hard that it shattered into pieces.
Chase rushed to him, hugging Jax as hard as he could from behind. He could feel his lover’s erratic heartbeat pounding so hard under his palm that he worried Jaxson might have a heart attack. His Dom was several inches taller than him, so he went to his tippy toes to get close enough to try to soothe Jaxson’s anxiety by talking softly against his ear. “Take a deep breath, baby. You won’t be able to help her if you keel over from a stroke.”
“No sense… never disobeyed… not like this. Something’s wrong.” Jaxson was short of breath.
All of that was true, but Chase wasn’t going to say that out loud. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. I’m sure she’s just having fun shopping and lost track of time,” he answered, praying it could be true.
“You’re a terrible liar. Emma doesn’t like shopping. You feel it like I do. Something big is wrong. This is my fault. She hasn’t been happy for weeks. I knew it, but I figured I could get to the bottom of it after we opened because I was too damn busy to spend time figuring it out. Now I don’t have the first fucking clue where to look for her. And I’m a dumbass and blew up my phone. Christ, what if she’s trying to call me for help?” Jaxson’s voice cracked with emotion.
“Mr. Davidson, sir. Maybe I could help.”
It was Miguel. He’d come to face the two men, concern for a woman he’d never met pouring from his eyes.
When neither of them answered, he continued. “Do you have a tracking app on her phone by chance? If not, if you give me her credit card numbers, I can see if she’s made any purchases today. Maybe we could track her down that way.”
Jaxson stood frozen, uncharacteristically unhelpful in a crisis. Chase pulled out his phone to look up the credit card number Emma used, handing it over to the guy who didn’t even officially work for them yet.
Miguel pulled a laptop out of the leather satchel he’d brought with him. Within minutes he was punching Emma’s card number into a program. All around them, the construction guys who had been hard at work prior to the distraction now milled about in small groups, watching the drama from a safe distance, glad for once that Jaxson wasn’t upset with them.
Chase released Jax and started pacing, making semi-circles behind the guy trying to dig up a lead… any small clue that would solve the mystery.
“The last charge to the card was at eleven nineteen this morning. Looks like an Uber driver.”
“That can’t be. That was…” Jaxson looked at his designer watch before finishing his thought, “Fucking four hours ago! It’s like she barely stayed at Khloe’s house.”
Miguel was the only calm voice of reason. “Traffic is insane out there. She could just be caught in a jam.”
“She doesn’t have a car. She should have called if she wanted to leave,” Jaxson groused.
Chase hated to add more bad news, but he knew it was important. “I think her phone is dead. It went to voicemail when I called her a few minutes ago.”
Jaxson reasoned, “If this was D.C., we’d at least have a few places to check. Fuck! The only possible place she could be is back at the rental. Let’s go.” Jaxson took off at a jog towards the front door, and Chase was about to follow when he ground to a halt.
“Don’t just stand there. You’re hired. Your first job is to help us find and protect Emma.”
Miguel leaned down to grab his bag before nodding. “Yes, sir. Let’s go.”
