MANIC: Rook and Ronin, #2 Read Free

there."
    "What the hell was that?" I ask once we're safely on the other side of the dressing room doors.
    "That was called a pissed-off client, Rook, and typically when people are paying you a lot of fucking money to do a job, you try to avoid the pissed-off client. He was never on board with you in the first place, said you were too young, but Spencer insisted and he had a clause in his contract that he was in charge of picking the canvas."
    "The canvas." Wow .
    "Come on, now, put on the game face. You're in the contract, but this guy is just looking for way to make you screw up and have to pay him a bunch of money, so if you want to keep the cash you just made for TRAGIC, you'll have to be on your best behavior. Got it?"
    "Got it," I say as he hands me a pencil skirt, a crisp long-sleeved white shirt, and some low black heels. "This is what I'm wearing?" I'm a librarian. "Can I safely assume the accessories will include glasses on a chain and my hair in a bun? Should I shush people tonight?"
    These people have no middle. It's either sweet or trashy.
    "Just put it on, OK? We don't have time. Just trust me for once, will ya? I've been dressing models for five years, I know what I'm doing."
    I grumble, but after I put the outfit on and Ronin hands me a brush and a clip to keep my hair neat, I decide some librarians can be sexy and I'm definitely one of them. When I turn from the mirror he's exiting from the men's side of the closet buttoning up his shirt cuffs.
    We smile at each other.
    "I can't wait to get you in bed again," he growls.
    "Why wait?"
    He smacks my ass and pushes me out of the dressing room. "Be good tonight, it's important."
    I smile at that as we hop down the four flights of stairs that lead to the parking garage and then get in his truck. I take a deep breath as we exit onto the busy street outside our building and say a little prayer that this contract was a good choice.
     

Chapter Three - ROOK
     
    The restaurant is at the top of a very tall building in downtown Denver. I have no idea what this building is called or anything else about it, but I don't dwell on it because as soon as we give the valet guy the truck, Ronin is practically dragging me to the elevator.
    "Shit, Ronin. Calm down, will you? You're making me nervous."
    "Sorry," he says, squeezing my hand. "Ford is pissed and that means Antoine is pissed, and not to sound like a jerk, but Antoine is pretty serious about the business side to the studio, it's got his name on it after all, so we try to keep clients happy and this is a huge contract, Rook. Huge. So play it cool, be nice, and smile sweetly. Please ," he adds at the last second.
    I've never seen Ronin so… on . I'm thinking about how I really don't know him that well when the elevator doors open and he places a calming hand against the small of my back and gently guides me forward. He talks to the maître d' in French and they laugh like they're old friends, and then we're led past all the other diners and into a private area. Spencer's boisterous laugh fills the room as we enter as all heads turn to us. Antoine stands and walks over and takes my arm to place me in a seat next to him. Ronin shakes hands with all the suits and Spencer as he walks around the table to find his chair across from me.
    I look to my left and there's that Ford guy. I smile sweetly like I was told, then look past Antoine to Elise. She's prettied up in a dark red dress that looks like someone made it specifically for her tiny little frame. Her short blonde crop is gelled up to make little wisps of hair curve against her cheeks and forehead. She smiles at me and raises a glass, her champagne and dimples both sparkling at the same time.
    She's adorable.
    I pick up my champagne glass and raise it back, then take a sip and realize it's water.
    Ford leans into me a little, making me pull back. "You're underage, right?"
    I catch Ronin's glare across the table and put on the game face and talk in my sweetest voice. "So,