HEAT: A Bad Boy Romance Read Free Page B

head. I stroll up to the boat, just shy of a yacht—the yacht is moored elsewhere—hiding any sign that I’m nervous. My father loves to deliver the really serious talks on his boat, out on the ocean, where there’s no place to storm off to.
    I’m on the boat and sitting down before he finally acknowledges me. Touché, father mine. Even then, he waits a moment, scrolling through the ledger on his tablet. My father the micromanager. The same accountant for thirty years and he still looks over Saul’s numbers, looking for any sign of embezzling, or even just a comma out of place.
    Finally, he sets the tablet down and drops his sunglasses down on his nose so that he can look at me over the rim of them. “Rough night,” he says.
    I shrug.
    Reginald stares at me from his end of the deck, and then stands and approaches me. Inside, I brace myself for him to hit me. He’s done it before, an open hand slap right across the face. It kills him when I don’t react, so I mastered the craft of ignoring the sting of it and controlling the reflex to flinch away years ago just to make a point.
    To my surprise, though, he doesn’t. Instead, he claps me on the shoulder, his grin wide and wicked. When he speaks, his voice is cool and calculating, all business. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I know just how you can make it up to me. I’ve got a way to clear this PR mess up, and get us Miss Hall’s location.”
    He stands, and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Go start the boat. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Chapter 3
    Janie
    K irby Whelan laughs too loudly at my not-that-funny joke, and I wait for the spell to pass. He’s being polite, and as always attracting whatever attention he can get from the other lounge patrons. Friday night is always busy at Red Hall and while I’m grateful for that—I definitely need the business with Ferry Lights across the street trying to suck the oxygen out of our block—there is nothing more stressful. No night that needs to run more smoothly than Friday. Music is playing, and people are enjoying themselves, dancing a little in the center of the room. This is what I need to see.
    So when I spot Jake Ferry, the spoiled son of the man who owns said overpriced, gaudy, classless excuse for a high-end restaurant, strolling right through my front door my eyelid twitches. Kirby raises an eyebrow, and looks around curiously for the source. “Girl, what are you looking at? You don’t have any sharp objects in reach, do you?”
    I don’t answer right away—I’m looking for my resident social climber, Gloria. She can smell a billionaire brat like a shark can smell chum in the water and… yes, there she is, weaving her way through the crowd toward Jake Ferry exactly like a deep sea predator. It would serve Jake right for me to let her get her jaws on him.
    It wasn’t necessarily Jake’s choice to open Ferry Lights. That tactic reeks of Reginald Ferry, but as far as I know Jake is just an asshole, not a professional asshole. And the last thing I need is Gloria stirring up some kind of PR hurricane, or worse, whispering secrets into the competition’s ear.
    “I’m sorry, Kirby,” I tell my friend, “I’m so glad you came by. Can I catch up with you later? I need to… intercept.”
    Kirby gives me a wicked, salacious grin. “Jake Ferry? Really?”
    “Not even a little,” I tell him before we trade cheek kisses and I make my way to where Gloria is already laying it on thick.
    Once I’m on the move, Jake’s eyes catch mine and track me part of the way. Gloria’s follow, and a split second later her fingers brush her prey’s cheek. She leans in and whispers something in his ear. Probably an offer to blow him in the back room.
    I should let her have him. It might make for a good excuse to fire her later on. I’m too damned nice for my own good is what I am.
    “Mr. Ferry,” I say as I close on them not a moment too soon—Gloria’s already escalated to flipping those