Page 37 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Chapter Nine

Summer couldn’t believe how good it felt to see Darcy again. She was grinning madly as the gate opened and her friend walked through.

Darcy was beautiful in a striking way that made an immediate impression. She was one-quarter Chinese, which showed in her ivory skin and the almond tilt to her dark eyes. But her hair was a natural platinum blond, cut short—she’d done it herself in prison—and spiky so it showed off her high cheekbones and long, slender neck. A good five inches taller than Summer, she wore black jeans, a black tank top, and Doc Martens boots embroidered with bloodred roses. The black and red ink of tattoos snaked down her left arm. She was super cool. Summer couldn’t ever imagine being that cool.

But there was a sadness lurking in her eyes. Summer had been there when Darcy had gotten the news that her sister had been killed in a car crash. She’d seen her break down, and then slowly put herself back together again. She’d wanted revenge, but the person responsible had died along with her sister. Darcy had been convicted of grievous bodily harm against her brother-in-law because she’d broken his arm when he’d been drunkenly beating up Darcy’s sister. Unfortunately, he was also a police officer, and no doubt his friends had rallied around him, and Darcy had gone down. It should never have happened.

But when was life fair?

Now the only family Darcy had left was her sister’s baby, born while Darcy was inside, so she’d never even met the little girl. Summer knew that child was Darcy’s biggest hope for the future.

They hugged, and then Darcy stood back, her hands still on Summer’s shoulders, and studied her. “You look well. Much more color, and I think you’ve put on weight even in just a week. Have you been eating properly, working out?”

“No and no.” She just hadn’t felt up to it. She would, though. That had been the plan when she got out. To take control of her life. Obviously, that hadn’t exactly worked out. But just because Nik was controlling her working hours, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t take control of the rest.

“Don’t worry.” Darcy patted her on the arm. “Now that I’m out, we’ll soon get you in shape.”

“Why does everyone think I need looking after?” she muttered.

Darcy pursed her lips. “Who else thinks you need looking after?”

This wasn’t somewhere she wanted to go right now. She still hadn’t decided what she would tell Regan and Darcy about her current situation, her new job, and the threat that was hanging over her head. Part of her wanted to share it, to see if they had any ideas. But really, there was nothing they could do. Other than maybe put out a hit on Nik…although she was pretty sure that would be a violation of their parole.

They were all on fragile ground here. None of them could afford any mistakes.

“And what’s with the secretary look?” Darcy waved her hand down Summer’s usual working outfit of white shirt, gray skirt, and low-heeled black pumps.

She licked her lips. “I’ve got a job. It’s only temporary, but it pays well, and it’s with a good company. It also makes my parole officer happy.” She spoke quickly to get the words out. She didn’t want to lie to Darcy, so she tried to say as little as possible.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not up to your old tricks are you, Summer Delaney?” That hurt. And it must have shown, because Darcy shrugged. “Sorry, of course you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. The job just came up and was too good an opportunity to miss. But I don’t have to go in until this afternoon, and I’ve booked us lunch at the Ritz like you asked.” She glanced at her watch. “We’ve got an hour. Do you want to grab a taxi and maybe get a drink first?”

“Let’s walk.” As they started down the street, Darcy shook her head as she looked around. “It’s hard to believe I’m actually out.”

“Tell me about it,” Summer said. “The first night I went into sort of a meltdown. I didn’t know what to do. I ate a whole chocolate cake—thanks for that, by the way—and drank a whole bottle of champagne, and then I puked everywhere.”

Darcy sniggered. “We told you to go pick up a guy, then you could have shared the champagne.”

Summer looked away so Darcy wouldn’t see the flush on her cheeks. “Maybe you can teach me how.”

“Oh, no. No guys in my life for the foreseeable future. I have a habit of picking the wrong ones, and they’re more trouble than they’re worth. From now on, I’m single.”

An hour later, the hostess showed them to a table in the restaurant. Summer was trying not to look as overwhelmed as she felt. They’d hopped on a bus for part of the journey, to give them time for Darcy to pop into a small boutique and pick up a dress to change into: a simple black T-shirt dress that nearly reached the ground but had a long thigh-high slit. Darcy wore it with her Doc Martens and looked edgy and cool. She’d bought some makeup as well, and her eyes were rimmed with kohl, her lips red. She made Summer feel small and colorless.

When she said as much, Darcy studied her across the table. “I’m guessing you’ve always dressed to hide yourself rather than stand out.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, there’s no need to hide anymore. I feel a makeover coming on. We’ll go shopping this weekend.”

Did she want a makeover?

“I don’t have much money.” Though she did have some savings squirreled safely away. It was money she’d saved from her salaries at her various jobs. She was going to invest in Regan’s new PI business, maybe set up her own little section doing forensic accounting—set a thief to catch a thief sort of thing. Plus, there was this idea she’d been contemplating in prison. She’d offer a service to women in the same position her mother had been, women who’d maybe been injured or who had lost their jobs through no fault of their own, and who couldn’t go up against the huge corporations with their money and resources. She’d investigate the companies—bring someone legal on board, and she’d beat the bastards.

But she would get her first paycheck from Nik at the end of the week. She could maybe use some of that.

She looked across at the vibrant woman opposite her, then thought about the supermodel whose date she had set up with Nik—the bastard.

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