Page 12 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

The door opened again, and Lisa entered, papers in her hand. She handed a copy to Summer and one to Nik, then turned and walked away.

At the door, she hesitated and turned around. “Donald is on holiday next week. His PA could—”

“Summer will be taking over your job. Don’t worry about a thing. Just go look after your sister.”

The door closed behind her.

“You know,” Summer said, “it seems very convenient. You want to keep me close and your PA suddenly needs some time off.”

“Her pregnant sister fell down and broke her leg. Do you think I had her pushed?”

She shrugged. “Just wondering. What do I really know about you?”

“Less than I know about you.”

She’d like to defend herself, but really, how could she?

“Read your contract,” he said.

She scowled but glanced down at the paper in her hand. Position: personal assistant to the company CEO. Whoop-de-do. “I’m not a goddamn secretary,” she muttered.

“According to your file, you’re not an accountant, either, but you did a pretty good imitation of one.”

“I’m self-taught.” Actually, she’d taken some exams and gained some qualifications while in prison. Still, she wasn’t allowed to work in a position of financial trust until her parole was over, and even then, she’d have to register the fact that she was an offender with potential employers. It would seriously limit her prospects. She didn’t mind; she didn’t want to work for anyone else. She wanted to work for herself. But like everything else, it looked as though that was going to have to wait.

She sighed. What was the point in even reading this? It wasn’t as though she had a choice in the matter. At least the salary was good. “Do I actually get paid?”

“I thought about that one. I did consider offsetting it against what you owe me—I reckon it would take you around twenty years to pay off your debt. And that’s without interest.” She winced but didn’t interrupt. “But then I considered the fact that if you have no money, you’d be more likely to revert to your old ways. So, yes, you’ll be paid.”

She sighed again. No point putting this off. “Pass me the goddamn pen.”

He watched as she placed the contract on the table and scribbled her name, then dated it.

She sat back as he picked up the papers and studied them for a moment, a satisfied smile on his face. He believed he’d won. But won what? She still wasn’t sure what his endgame was. A philanthropic gesture to save her from herself? Or more likely to save rich people like him from her. A long-term plan—get her to feel safe and then hand her over to the police? Maybe the buildup would make the revenge all the sweeter. Or was he just amusing himself?

She hated that she didn’t know. “Does it occur to you I might have plans?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s why you’re here. As I’m sure any plans you have are unlikely to be legal. Did you know nearly fifty percent of all ex-cons go on to re-offend?”

“Did you look that up?”

“Yes.”

Someone rapped on the door. A second later it opened, and a man strode in. He was tall and wearing a gray business suit and tie. She recognized him straightaway. Harry Brent. From her research on the company, she knew he was Nik’s right-hand man. She’d even met him before, briefly, nearly three years ago, though they’d never been introduced. He was the man who had inadvertently let the cat out of the bag as to Nik’s true identity. The night of “the kiss.” He’d interrupted them and probably stopped her from making a mistake of colossal proportions. Because she’d passed the point where she would have called a halt herself. They would no doubt have had sex across the big mahogany desk in the CFO’s office…where Nik had come upon her while she’d been completing the final transfer. And she’d kissed him because she’d been flustered and hadn’t known what else to do. Besides, she’d wanted to kiss him. Wanted to know what he tasted like. What his big body would feel like pressed up against hers. And it had been so good, just the memory had the power to heat up her blood.

Stop thinking about it.

“Summer?”

She jumped as Nik said her name, then hooked her hair behind her ear and stared up at Harry Brent, who’d come to a halt in front of her and was looking at her as if she might make off with the company silver. But there was also something else in his expression, something she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Speculation?

“I just wanted to come see what all the fuss is about,” he said, turning to Nik. “She’s a little scrawny to be causing so much havoc. And I have to tell you one last time, you’re making a huge mistake here.”

But he sounded more amused than anything else. Yeah. She was so funny.

“Thanks for your input,” Nik replied. “Glad we’ve got that behind us now. So, Summer, this is Harry Brent. You’ll no doubt be seeing a lot of him, as he’s convinced you’ll be up to no good the moment my back is turned.”

She sniffed. “You do plan on turning your back, then. That’s a relief.”

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