Sheikh's Revenge Read Free Page A

always use another teller.”
    “Thanks. I’ll start on the classifieds on Monday, but I feel like such a failure. I mean, I studied art and design, and it wasn’t like my life goal was to fetch coffee every day and guess and hope that the cup I bought was the correct one. That wasn’t my dream, but what kind of idiot just spills coffee on her boss?”
    “One who had to wear heels because of the dress code and ran like half the city in them. I can understand how you’d have blisters for days. Jeez, sis. Don’t put all the pressure on yourself,” Will said, setting down his beer can. “I know you’re probably not in the mood for this at all, but maybe you could use something more than moping back here in the apartment. Besides, you’re clearly not having fun with just my ironically delicious beer and the TV on Judge Judy reruns.”
    “I could be very into the legal system,” she quipped, rubbing at her stuffy nose. “But what are you suggesting?” Addison asked warily.
    She loved her brother, but besides his hipster leanings, he’d actually been a wild man in college and had been to pretty much every big party in Boston for four years due to his frat. He still sometimes dabbled in extreme nightlife living while she was more likely to be at home watching Saturday Night Live until she conked out.
    Will regarded her gently. “One of the guys who was a Chi Sigma when I was a freshman pledge…he’s hit it pretty big and has some ties to these guys who run the Club Rouge. They’re having some huge costume party there tonight, and it’s supposed to be the biggest thing going in Boston. I wasn’t feeling it at first, because when you’ve been to one supposedly hot club then you’ve been to them all.”
    She snorted. “That does not sound like you at all.”
    “Okay, then caught. What I meant to say was that I wasn’t really into costumes and crap. I think I can run down to this one place and grab a crappy mask, but that theme isn’t my idea of a good time. However, you tell me, oh fashion goddess sister, that you can’t just whip up something in a pinch or have a cool costume back there in your room.”
    Addison blushed. She’d started getting into fashion as a teen but in an unusual way. She’d been a huge convention goer and gotten into cosplay, creating amazing designs based on comic books and anime. Then she’d taken that interest into design and other things in college. There just wasn’t a huge job market for it. Even while she slaved away for Mr. McDermott, Addison worked at night creating dresses and other fashions under her own style. She actually had something that would be great for a masquerade party, both a dress and a mask.
    “I do, but I’m tired and drunk already.”
    “So what? It’s only two o’clock. Crash for a bit then get prepped to go and have a party.”
    “I should probably be restructuring and fluffing up my resume,” Addison admitted.
    Her brother grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Nah, sis, you should party and make a huge thing of it. After a day like this, the drinks should never stop flowing.”
    She rolled her eyes but nodded. Drinking wasn’t her style, but it had been the worst day of her life. If she just let go a little bit tonight at Club Rouge, then what was the worst that could happen?
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    Zahir had no idea why he’d bothered to go out to Club Rouge that night. He was still rip-roaringly pissed off from what had happened earlier that day with Clayton, and now his brain was twisting with ways to lure former employees from McDermott’s group to his own company. He should be at home with some of his best executives over Skype—damn the time difference—and figuring out exactly what needed to be done in order to finally stick it to one Clayton McDermott.
    And yet…
    He was frustrated and angry. In the past, the sheikh had found that the best way to relieve his stress and to get himself back into a focused mood was to