March (Calendar Girl #3) Read Free

installment, and get the hell out of dodge. The next day I had a host of beauty appointments to tend to and then first thing the following morning I was on a plane to Chicago to meet my next client.
    “Why do you think he has an office in a hotel anyway?” Gin asked as we stepped around some scantily clad women serving drinks.
    It wasn’t even ten in the morning and the booze was flowing. There’s a reason the players can’t see outside of hotels on the gambling levels. It makes them feel like it’s still early. Pumps them full of artificial noises, music, all day buffets and drinks that they don’t have to pay for as long as they’re gambling. When you add all those things up, people become gambling, drunk zombies that are dying for a win. But they never do. The house always wins. It’s the most well-known fact, probably in the world, yet people are still dumb enough to keep trying their luck and pissing away their kid’s college money or their rent for that matter.
    In my Dad’s case, the hardcore gamblers, they borrow money. Lots of it. More than they could ever possibly pay back in their lifetime. All for the win, for Lady Luck. In my experience, Lady Luck was a cold hard bitch that smoked, had fake tits, and an STD.
    “Blaine once told me that he didn’t need to hide what he did. Said he was an “investor” and thought having an office and staff made him look less like the criminal he is, and more like the businessman he claimed he was.”
    Gin huffed and smacked her gum. “Pretty smart actually.”
    “Yeah, well, I never did say the man was stupid. Just a heartless bastard with a black soul.”
    We made our way to the elevators and then to his floor. When we arrived at the door I stopped, straightened my hair and adjusted my t-shirt to make sure it covered every speck of bare skin. I wore my leather jacket and paired it with black motorcycle boots with kick-ass studs on the heel. The cherry on top was the bright red 24-hour stay-red lip stain. The lipstick promised to keep my pout a bright, flaming red. I felt fierce and ready to handle a prick with a tiny dick. Really, he had an average sized dick but it made me feel better to emasculate him internally.
    I turned to Gin and stopped with my hand on the handle. “Okay, this is as far as you go.”
    Ginelle’s eyes flared white hot. She put a hand to her petite hip and presented me with the oh-no-she-didn’t stance. “If you think for one minute…” Ninja-like I clasped a hand over her mouth and got close. Really close. So close I could smell the mint on her breath from her gum.
    “Gin, Blaine already hurt one of my family members. Bad. Really bad. He’s threatened to hurt me and Maddy. I cannot handle him threatening someone else I love. I need you to go and wait for me at the bar downstairs.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Please,” I begged while pressing the twenty into her hand.
    I let her go and her eyes watered. “But what if he hurts you?”
    “He won’t. I’m worth too much money to him. Trust me.” I stared into her eyes letting her see the fierce love and protection there.
    She took a long, slow breath. “O-kay. If you’re not down in thirty minutes, I’m calling the cops.”
    “Fine. That’s fair. Now go, before someone sees you.” I turned her around and gently pushed her toward the elevator.
    I waited until she got on. “I love your guts,” she said.
    “I love your guts, too. See ya soon, ho.”
    Her eyes widened, but before she could get in a jab, the elevator doors closed. I chuckled and then put on my brave face. Time to deal with a monster.
     
    ***
    Blaine’s office was black, red, and white. Reminded me of a racer’s checkered flag. Didn’t seem all that inspired as far as decoration goes, but it did connote his desire for “winning” pretty nicely. A buxom blonde with big silicone tits, a small ass and even smaller IQ, with an anorexic-sized waistline led me to his office.
    “Mr.