The Dare Collection: August 2018. Avril Tremayne

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       CHAPTER ONE

      Caleb

      THE QUICK GLANCE at my wrist was a bad idea. I knew the moment my gaze dropped to the black-and-azure face of my watch that I’d added another half hour to this circus.

      Shit.

      “Oh, am I wasting your time? Do you have somewhere important to be?” the whiny voice demanded.

      I sighed.

      The ability to turn circumstances, good or bad, to my advantage was what had earned me my renowned status. But no one starts life thinking they were going to do what I do, be what I am.

      A fixer.

      I wasn’t complaining, though. I was great at my job. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t this damned good... Oh, who the hell was I kidding? Most days I loved my job. Tonight, not so much. The 2 a.m. calls were the worst. Especially when they interrupted a very promising pre-fuck blowjob.

      But hey, what was a small case of blue balls when the siren song of work beckoned? As evading tactics went, it was an effective way to hold the demons at bay.

      I shoved my hands into my pockets and glared at the glassy-eyed man-child straddling the banister in front of me. “Yes, actually. I do have somewhere else to be. So if you’re going to jump, get it over with so I can get on with my night.”

       Christ, you’ve surpassed yourself this time, Steele.

      My client’s slack-faced shock confirmed my thought. “Are you fucking serious?”

      “As Zachary Quinto’s eyebrows. This is the fourth time I’ve had to deal with your...unhappiness this month alone. Normally, I would’ve washed my hands of you or dragged you to rehab. But I promised your father I’d look out for you. The only thing you’re addicted to is laziness—”

      “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The band kicked me out!”

      “Because you set your GPS to Cabo instead of your studio in Culver City. Last month it was Vegas. The month before it was Atlantic City, right?”

      “I can’t just turn up and sing! I need inspiration,” Ross Jonas sulked.

      “And you think you’re going to find that by jumping off this balcony tonight?” I shrugged. “Go ahead, then. I can have you in a nice corner slab in the morgue by sunrise.”

      His jaw dropped again. “Holy fuck, you’re something else.”

      I closed my eyes and wished those words were coming from a different mouth, preferably the scarlet-painted female one I’d left in my bed. When I opened them again, Ross was still there. Shame.

      I wasn’t twisted enough to wish my client dead but I wanted this over and done with.

      He wasn’t going to jump.

      We’d СКАЧАТЬ