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  “There has to be some happy medium between our family structures,” she says, tracing a finger over my chest. “A family that’s not a constant struggle to survive. Where the challenges are things like fighting over who gets to host Christmas.”

  “We always host.”

  “We don’t do the holidays. Stopped after my mother died. I tried to keep it going for Benjamin, but my father…” She sighs. “Never mind. Maybe you can tell your dad he’s the pillar of our family and he’ll take him out instead.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt, not again.” I blurt it out. But it’s true.

  I don’t. And more than just in the passive way I feel about most things. It’s unfamiliar and unsettling. She shivers in my arms.

  “If I could convince my father, I would.”

  I think I’d even take the hit over the properties if it’d make a difference, but it wouldn’t. It’s an unwelcome thought and I push it away. I can’t throw everything away because of her.

  “Why can’t you?” The tone of her voice lets me know she’s asking out of curiosity rather than as an accusation.

  “He doesn’t respect me. He asked me to deal with the unionization, and as you can see, that didn’t go very well. But even if he felt differently about me, my father sees compromise as weakness. He’s insulted that the staff would even dream about forming a union when they have such an incredible giant to work for.” She clearly catches the sarcasm in my voice.

  “I hope I’m never that arrogant,” she huffs. “That arrogant and that blind. You’re brilliant, Finn, but your father brought this on himself. Do you have any idea how underpaid your staff is? They have to pay for parking and for their own uniforms. The material requires dry cleaning. When one of the staff members complained about how unfair this was, he got fired.”

  I frankly wasn’t aware of any of this, though I should have been. I should’ve interceded earlier and this whole thing wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have met Sasha, but she wouldn’t have been brutalized so badly she woke up screaming from nightmares.

  “Luckily there are a lot of shitty paying jobs around here,” I say. Why not retreat into petulance like always? Christ.

  She pushes up on her elbows. I try to pay attention, but it’s hard to keep my eyes off her breasts.

  “People can’t constantly job-hop and make ends meet. Your father may save money on staff vacancies up front, but eventually it will cost more than it saves with the time it takes to onboard new employees. Plus the disruption in service is bad for customer service, and your bottom line.” She sighs and slides back on my chest. “Happy workers provide better service, which makes for stronger businesses. But your father is more interested in saving pennies on the dollar by squeezing it out of people who have nothing.”

  I don’t want a fucking lecture. And with my father it’s more about getting people to fall in line and not challenge him than simply about saving money. But if I’d pointed these problems out to Callan sooner—my father actually listens to Callan—the organization efforts might not have happened and my father wouldn’t have felt challenged.

  But I understand where she’s coming from. Her mother died due to penny pinching, and that can’t be easy to process.

  It doesn’t change what’s going to happen, though.

  “If I had a different family, I would’ve gone into something embarrassing like psychology,” I say, stroking her silky curls. It’s a pivot, but she takes it in stride. “Or worse. Archeology.”

  “How is that worse?”

  “Than psychology?”

  “No, than working for your father.”

  Doesn’t give up so easily, this one. I press my lips to her head.

  “Archeologists get excited about digging up latrines. I’d be excited about digging up centuries old shit.”

  She laughs. “Sounds okay to me.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “If things had been different.”

  She cuddles against me. Normally I hate that, but I’m surprised to find that I enjoy closeness with Sasha. I loved the sex, but just holding her is satisfying in a way that feels different. I shouldn’t be letting myself enjoy this.

  “Lady pirate,” she says. “Freedom sailing the seven seas, stealing doubloons from the Spanish.”

  “So a time traveler too.”

  “Why not?” She sighs.

  We’re both quiet for a while, and then she brushes a hand over my bicep.

  “I’m afraid, Finn. I’m afraid to go back to sleep.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

  Of all the people to be saying this to. I feel ashamed for the first time since I can remember.

  “I’ll keep you safe. At least until morning.”

  I wish I could help her, but I can’t. I tried in the ways available to me, but she didn’t want anything I had to offer. But tonight I can hold her. Protect her from bad dreams, or at least soothe her after them.

  She settles against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. Seducing Sasha had seemed like such a good idea when Patrick had suggested it, but I didn’t count on Sasha’s ridiculous integrity.

  Or how I’d be so compelled by it.

  I didn’t count on how good it’d feel being gloved by her body, her sweet voice whimpering my name as I brought her pleasure.

  I didn’t plan on her intelligence and her wisdom.

  Or her kindness.

  That possessive fire surges through me again. I press my cheek against her soft hair, my body fully surrounding hers now. She sighs in her sleep.

  Just tonight. Tomorrow we’re both on our own again. The world is a hard place, and there’s nothing I can do to change that.

  Nothing at all.

  15

  Sasha

  Finn’s still sleeping when I leave. It’s time to go home and change before work, and it’s a challenge finding all my clothes in the dim light. I consider leaving my panties in Finn’s pocket as a little reminder of what could’ve been, but those were expensive so I fish them out and stuff them in my bag.

  I give him one final look.

  He threw off most of the blanket sometime during the night, and it rests just across his hips. One of his arms is tossed casually over his head, the other draped where I was sleeping. I wouldn’t call him serene, not even in sleep, but I’m not one to throw stones about that.

  His thick hair is wild and messy, and I need to go before I run my hands through it, waking him up for another round of what I imagine would be incredible sex.

  Better to keep that to one night only. It’s why I don’t kiss him goodbye. No reason to be sentimental, even though my heart aches to leave things so casual. I care about this man, even though I shouldn’t. I’m sure his road ahead won’t be easy either.

  I can be a real fool sometimes.

  I sneak out as quietly as possible, and don’t think I wake him. I hope I don’t run into anyone on staff that I know.

  What a first-time walk of shame, Sasha.

  I’m relieved to be out of the casino and heading toward the bus stop when I hear someone call my name. I freeze in my tracks.

  Fuck.

  “Miss Saunders.”

  I should just keep going, but I pride myself on not being a coward. Even when I want to be.

  “Mr. Carney.” He’s holding a travel mug and is dressed like he rolled out of some family drama from the fifties—greatcoat, trilby hat and all.

  He clicks his tongue at me. “I expected better from you than sleeping with my son. He’s got a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man, but he’s definitely the love them and leave them type.”

  Whatever Carney has planned for me can’t be more humiliating than this.

  I won’t let him see me sweat.

  “So am I, Mr. Carney.”

  I’m sure that was believable. Jesus.

  His eyes narrow. A man with this bad a poker face shouldn’t own a casino.

  “Do you think your little display last night did anything but draw my ire, Sasha? It c
hanges nothing.”

  “I have to disagree, sir. I’m sure Mr. Harvey and your investors are watching this process very carefully to see how it plays out. If you step out of line, it’ll be all over the papers.”

  I’d banked on Carney making some play at using my presence to brag to his fancy friends and had planned accordingly but having a reporter from the Globe there when he did so had been an incredible stroke of luck.

  “You’re awfully arrogant. You think I can’t keep things out of the papers, girl?” He steps closer, but I hold my ground.

  “I’m sure you can, sir. After all you were able to suppress what your goons did to me back in July. But do you think you’re the only one with connections? In the press and elsewhere? You’re stretched thin, and you might have been able to completely crush many of the people you stepped on to get where you are, to get that license.” I gesture at the casino. “But can you honestly tell me there aren’t people waiting for you to stumble so they can rip your empire apart and scavenge the pieces?”

  I sound like I know more than I do, but it’s mostly thanks to Dr. Smith’s wise words. “One misstep, Mr. Carney. That’s all it takes sometimes to destroy a life’s work.”

  His nostrils flare as he stares daggers into me.

  “I’m not trying to make you angry, sir. I’m just trying to tell you that there are better ways to do business.”

  He laughs at that. “Oh sweetheart, as if you know a goddamn thing about business. You slut it up with my son and you think you’re a venture capitalist now? Let me tell you something about business.” He jams his finger in my face. “You think it was bad before? Just you wait. And don’t expect my loser son to do anything to help you.”

  “I don’t expect anything from Finn.” It hurts me to say it, but it’s true. “Finn is brilliant, though. He’s another of your blind spots.”

  A malicious smile spreads across James Carney’s face.

  My fingers and toes go numb.

  “I heard you were at his place last weekend. How did he get you there?”

  The way he enjoys wielding his cruelty is chilling.

  “Did he ask you out on a nice date, huh? I’m sure that must be it. But whatever it was, it had nothing to do with me. I didn’t have you dragged to his apartment. I’m sure he told you I was behind it, but no, I didn’t arrange that little escapade. But in some ways I suppose you’re right—being conniving is a form of brilliance, and Finn has that in spades.”

  I clench my teeth together to keep my jaw from dropping in shock. I’m dizzy from the effort required to stay upright. I don’t want to believe this. I don’t want to believe Finn could do something like this, but something in my gut tells me Carney isn’t lying.

  “Terrible to think my own son would retraumatize someone and then use it as a pretense to fuck her into getting his way. Finn’s a thoughtful man. I’m sure he’ll give you a call. Make sure you get home okay.” He puts his arm on my shoulder and I cringe.

  He clicks his tongue at me again. “I almost feel bad for you. Have a good day, Miss Saunders.”

  He continues on his way to the casino. I stumble blindly toward the bus stop. The cold walls of a panic attack close around me and my brain seems to go on autopilot as I wait for the bus, shivering uncontrollably. I sit on a bench as my stomach clenches, and I dry heave, puking up some bile.

  I knew Finn was out for himself, but to have that monster P.J. drag me to his place knowing how it’d terrorize me? Did they plan what P.J. would say together? Did he tell P.J. how firmly to grip my neck as he dragged me up those stairs, and did they laugh about how stupid I was to blame his actions on his father?

  I’m grateful that I’m too numb to cry. The bus comes, and the blast of heat that hits me when I climb on causes my stomach to clench again. I move to the middle of the bus, sitting on the hard bench by the second set of doors. I try to breathe.

  How could someone put another person through an ordeal like that and then hold them when they wake up screaming from nightmares they’ve made worse? How could the same person who was so careful not to hurt me my first time orchestrate this? I still wish I could believe his father was lying, but it clarifies some questions I had.

  How could he do this to me? I thought I’d seen flashes of kindness, but I guess I saw what I wanted to. I wanted to give myself an excuse for being attracted to him. For letting him touch me like I did. For wanting him to touch me.

  Benjamin’s already left for school when I get home. My father will be asleep, and I’m grateful. I shower again and change into my bland work clothes. I felt like some kind of fairy tale princess last night, and now I’m back in the gutter where I belong. No happy endings for me.

  But at least I know where I stand here.

  I’m getting those workers their union, and I’m getting Benjamin in school, and then I’m getting the hell out of here, away from my loser father and the evil, sadistic Carneys.

  I’m still tender from where Finn was inside me, and I hope it won’t take too long to forget how incredible that felt. How can I separate that feeling from the betrayal I feel now? I was so stupid.

  But I won’t make that mistake again. Carney will make a play for me at some point. He’s a man who holds a grudge, especially when it’s personal. And by the way he sneered at me, I can tell it’s personal now. I embarrassed him, and he won’t let that lie.

  My biggest fear is that he’ll come for Benjamin. But I still have my nuclear option to deploy after the election.

  I manage to be at work by 9 a.m. and wonder if Finn’s still sleeping blissfully in his father’s fancy hotel.

  Carney’s lawyers had tried to push out the election to next month but the NLRB said no, and I convinced them to send their representatives to run the process next week. Told them Carney had agreed to it. After my display at the gala, he couldn’t deny it without showing his hand to the Senator and Mr. Harvey. Could I find other ways to make his arrogance his downfall?

  Before I leave for the day, I call up Jamilah. It’s close to seven and she’ll be heading in for her shift.

  “Oh, honey,” she says. “I got fired this afternoon. Carney called me in early to do it.”

  “What?” My voice shakes with barely contained anger. “He can’t do that! On what grounds?”

  “Stealing,” she laughs. “It’s bullshit, but he’d get away with it. He told me he wouldn’t press charges if I left quietly. If I didn’t have to worry about my daughter…but I’ll find another bartending job. I just want to know who our rat is. Someone tipped him off that I was in charge of organizing.”

  “I’m so sorry.” The unfairness of it is crushing.

  “You looked amazing last night, though. And one of the servers in the gala space told me you ripped off James’ sack in front of the Senator and some guy from the Globe? It’s all anyone can talk about.”

  I laugh despite myself. “Yeah. I’ll pay for it, but I’m so sick of that evil son of a bitch winning.”

  “He won’t this time, Sasha. People are upset about what happened to me. They know it could happen to any of them. We’re…” She pauses and corrects herself. “They’re not asking for anything other than fair pay for the work they do. And if Carney isn’t checked now, he’ll continue to suppress wages and the problem will snowball as his empire grows. It’s worth the fight.”

  I have to believe that.

  “Finn was all over you last night. He’s always flirting with someone, but I’ve never seen him so focused on one woman before. Did something happen? You don’t have to tell me…”

  Oh God.

  “He’s a monster. He’s just as bad as his father, only more underhanded.”

  There’s a pause on the other line.

  “Honey. You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  I head into our conference room and shut the door. Not too many people around, but I don’t need anyone to hear this.

  “Christ, am I that easy to read?” I hiss.

  “Was he good in bed?”
Her tone is curious, and I’m grateful for the lack of judgment.

  “Yes,” I squeak out. “Very good. I’m so pissed at myself, Jamilah. I can’t believe I fell for his charm.”

  “He’s off the charts hot, Sasha. Any one of us would hate-fuck him, myself included. Just don’t let your heart get broken. Fucking someone like that is one thing. Falling in love is completely different.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem. I don’t think he’s capable of falling in love.”

  “But you are.”

  I don’t tell her about how he had P.J. Hennelly kidnap me and take me to his apartment, though. I can’t put that into words. It’s too humiliating. But I feel better about sleeping with him now.

  “It’s not going to be an issue,” I say instead.

  We chat for a few more minutes about the election.

  “I’ve got to go, but one last question?”

  “Anything,” I say.

  “Does he have a big dick?”

  I break into peals of laughter. “I don’t have a lot of data for comparison, but yes. Definitely big. Definitely uses it well.”

  “Damn,” she says. “Okay. I’ll check in with you later. Get home safe.”

  It’s been one hell of a week.

  16

  Finn

  I don’t knock on my father’s door this time. Why maintain the ruse at this point, anyway? I expect him to scream at me, but instead he gives me a smile that lets me know immediately that he’s done something terrible.

  Terrible for me, or for Sasha? I find myself hoping it’s not the latter.

  “I did in one day what you couldn’t do in over a week,” my father says. “I fired the lead organizer on the staff side. It was that bartender you’re always flirting with.”

  I flirt with nearly all the bartenders, but not pertinent information to share. I assume he means Jamilah since she’s the one I flirt with the most. Also, it took my father six months to get this information, not one day.