With His Consent (For His Pleasure, Book 13) Read Free Page A

his own. Scarlett’s own nerves were reaching a crescendo, as her cell phone rang. “It’s Hunter,” she whispered, almost choking on her fear.
    Bryson grabbed the cell phone out of her hand and answered it. “We’re on our way now,” he said. He listened for a moment. “Okay, I’ll do that—thanks.” He handed the phone back to her.
    She put it to her ear but the line was dead. “Why’d you take my phone?”
    “He was calling to make sure I was on my way, right?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “So there was no point in you getting hassled over my fuck up.”
    She sighed, putting the phone away. “What did Hunter say?”
    “He said I should get my head out of my ass before it’s too late.”
    Scarlett nearly laughed out loud, but restrained herself with some difficulty.
    They arrived to Hunter’s offices about ten minutes late.
    Running inside, Bryson grinned at her. “At least it hasn’t been dull, right?”
    “I think I’d prefer dull at this point,” she gasped.
    Kallie was waiting just inside the doors, looking tense but poised in a red skirt and white blouse with a gold necklace. Her diamond engagement ring glinted in the glare of the overhead lights. “I’m glad you both made it,” she said. “Come on, we shouldn’t even waste a second. Normally I’d ask if you wanted some water or needed to go to the bathroom, but everyone’s waiting.”
    “Who’s here?” Scarlett asked, as they made their way up a tall, spiral staircase that led to the second floor. The building was sparse and post-modern in design.
    “Dale Nolan and his agent, Greg Garrison from CML.”
    “That’s all?” Bryson asked.
    “That’s enough,” Kallie glared at him as the got to the landing and started down a hallway that overlooked the first floor, with glass railings. “Greg Garrison is probably the most powerful agent in the world. And he’s about as angry as is humanly possible without committing a violent crime.”
    Scarlett licked her lips. “What should we do?”
    “You can stay quiet, and Bryson needs to make a major apology and kiss so much ass that he’ll be using Chap Stick for a year.”
    They got to the conference room and Kallie knocked quickly on the door before opening it, letting Scarlett and Bryson enter first.
    Sitting around a mahogany table in the center of the room, were Dale Nolan, his agent Greg Garrison, and Hunter. Hunter rose to greet them, his eyes hard with frustration. “Good of you to make it. Late night?”
    Bryson shrugged. “I wasn’t aware I’d be needed this morning. I apologize for not getting here sooner.”
    Greg Garrison stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. Even standing up, he couldn’t have been more than five feet and a couple of inches. However, Scarlett had to admit that the little man carried some kind of aura—his presence was palpably aggressive. “That’s a shitty attitude, and I’m not surprised given everything I’ve heard about you,” he said, glaring at Bryson. Greg picked up a newspaper and threw it onto the center of the table where it slid to within an inch of the edge.
    Scarlett looked down and saw that it was The New York Post, and that there was a picture of Bryson on the front page, sporting his black eye. In the background of the photo, Scarlett’s face with an expression of shock, hovered nearby.
    The headline read: Tinsel town Tempest Hits NYC: Bridge and Tunnel Director Decked by Dale!
    Dale Nolan hadn’t yet said a word. He was just sitting in a conference chair, wearing jeans and a blazer, a baseball cap skewed low over his eyes. He appeared to be texting someone on his phone.
    “This is the thanks we get for supporting a first-time director?” Greg yelled. A vein pulsed in his forehead, which Scarlett was fascinated by.
    “Nobody even wants to ask me what happened before they attack me?” Bryson said, picking up the paper and scanning the article. He rolled his eyes at whatever he saw there.
    “We don’t give a fuck what you think