The Sinner's Bargain (Contracts & Deceptions #2) (12 page)

“We need you at Méchant on Friday at eight o’clock for an auction,” Samuel said as he pulled her into an empty cubicle.

Amara felt her heart actually stop for a moment. “What kind of auction?”

“Where our big clients go, to bid on time with the girls.”

She jerked her arm out of his hold, the bags crinkling loudly. “Colin paid for me not to screw random men. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of me being at this auction.”

Samuel arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you take orders from Colin?”

“I don’t, but I don’t take orders from you either.”

“Oh, so this is Philip’s wish then?” he asked with a chuckle.

Amara stayed quiet. It wasn’t really Philip’s either. It wasn’t anybody’s but hers. She would go to the auction and do what she needed to do. It was probably the event one of the men looking for her was waiting for, but the way Samuel approached her about it and the way he was talking to her was unnecessary, and she was annoyed over it.

“Is that all you needed?” she snapped.

“Just be there at eight o’clock on Friday, and don’t worry about who you will or won’t fuck. If you’re lucky, you’ll end up in a room with me.” There was amusement in his eyes that Amara did not appreciate.

“Fuck off,” she growled as she stomped out of the cubicle and made her way back to the elevator. After it made its stops on the way up, she went straight to the conference room and set the bags down. Amara wondered if Philip kept Samuel in the know about everything. Had he told him about their trip and the conversation with Jennings? Her phone chimed in her pocket, interrupting her thoughts, and she saw a text message from a number she didn’t have saved.

Méchant at 8pm. Don’t make me drag you there. –S

“Motherfucker,” she mumbled as she read it.

“Everything okay?” Brandon asked, startling her. She looked up to see him and Colin walking out of his office.

“Sure. I was just going to come get you.”

“You’re going to eat with us, right?” he asked.

“Umm...” Amara looked at Colin, who looked at her blankly. She amused herself for a second with the thought of joining them out of spite or simply walking away. Eventually she decided maybe walking away was best. Just the sight of him made her stomach turn, and unfortunately not in a bad way. He had ditched his tie and undone the first button of his white shirt, but left it tucked into his slacks and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his defined forearms. And damn if that didn’t make her hot. “I’ll just man the phones while you guys eat,” she said with a smile and turned to walk away.

“Just leave the phones, Mara. You have to eat too.” Colin’s voice stopped her short.

“It’ll get cold,” Brandon added.

“Fine. Only because I hate cold food,” she said, turning back and sitting across from where Colin seemed to be headed.

Amara reached over the table, grabbed a paper plate and began to spoon Chinese food on her plate—special fried rice, spicy shrimp and fried wontons. Brandon served his and sat across from her, where she’d thought Colin would sit, and Colin, being the asshole that he was, sat right beside her.
Right. Beside. Her.
That meant that she could smell his dizzying cologne, and when he brushed his arm against her, she nearly jumped out of her seat. Amara hated the way he made her feel —like she might puke from the butterflies that fluttered through her stomach on their way to nowhere.

“Here,” Colin said. He had an open mustard packet that he held over her plate. When she moved her hands, he started to squirt it over her rice and shrimp, just the way she liked it. It was both sweet and infuriating that he remembered she loved that.

“Thanks,” she said under her breath. His chuckle let her know he heard her.

“How was your trip?” he asked, and again Amara stilled her movements.

“It was fine.”

“Where did you go?” Brandon asked.

Amara’s eyes snapped up from her food to Brandon, then to Colin. His brown eyes showed no emotion, making her even angrier for goading her.

“Washington.”

“State?”

“No, D.C.”

“Oh, what’d you do there?” Brandon asked as he took a sip of his water. Amara and Colin were too busy having a staring competition to eat.

“I had business to take care of.”

“For Wolfe?” Brandon asked, confused.

She tore her gaze from Colin to meet Brandon’s gaze. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Brandon shrugged and changed the subject, “I thought you hated Mr. Pibb,” he said looking at Colin.

“It’s his favorite,” she said with a frown before Colin could answer.

“Huh,” Brandon said, amused.

“What?” Colin asked.

“It’s my favorite too. Molly told me you hated it.”

Colin glanced at Amara before she averted her eyes with an eye roll and a small smirk.

“Speaking of Molly, how was the engagement party? Sorry we couldn’t make it.” Brandon’s words felt like a dagger in her heart. Amara didn’t move—couldn’t breathe. She sat quietly, feigning interest in her plate while she waited for this conversation to be over.

“No big deal. I didn’t go either,” Colin said.His words shouldn’t have relieved her…but they did. She shouldn’t have cared about where he went… but she did. Amara told herself on her way back from D.C. that she would try to cut as many ties as she could with Colin. But she couldn’t.

Brandon coughed up a laugh. “You didn’t go to your own engagement party?”

“I think everybody sees past the pretenses, Brandon,” Colin said in a tired voice.

“I agree, but you’ve been going along with it, so I figured you would be there. What did Molly say about you skipping it?”

She saw Colin’s shrug in her peripheral vision. “I was waiting for an important phone call all weekend. I didn’t have time to worry about what anybody thought.”

“Holy shit. You didn’t tell her you weren’t going, did you?” Brandon asked. Amara finally looked up just in time to see surprise flit across his face. He was barely holding on to his fork, his mouth hanging open.

“I have more important things to worry about,” Colin snapped. Amara could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. He sat too close to her, and the conversation had turned in a direction way too personal for her to handle.

“So, Amara, what are you up to this weekend?” Brandon asked after a long pause.

“Nothing exciting.”
Other than auctioning myself off to some rich old horny bastard or being purposely placed in some crazy possible terrorists hands.
“How about you?”

“Having a housewarming party. Do you want to come? Chloe wants to meet you.”

“I thought you’d been living in the same place for a year now.” Amara said with a frown.

“We have, but it wasn’t up to par with Chloe’s standards for a housewarming party.”

She laughed. “So you haven’t had anybody over since you moved there?”

Brandon grinned. “We have, just no housewarming party.”

“Okay, what day is it?”

“Friday.”

“Oh,” she said, her shoulders slumping slightly. As long as she was at Méchant, she was never going to have a normal life. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it.”

“I thought you said you weren’t busy,” Colin said.

Her eyes cut to his. “I said I wasn’t doing anything exciting.”

“So you can go to the party,” Colin responded, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m not sure why you care either way, what’s it to you?”

“Nothing, I just don’t understand why you always have to sell out.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Sell out? When have I sold anybody out?”

There was a sudden gleam of amusement in Colin’s eyes that she didn’t appreciate. She braced herself for it. “Oh, that’s right, you only sell yourself… out.”

Anger spread through her like wild fire. Amara ground her teeth and let out a harsh breath. “You are such…. Forget it. I can’t even talk to you right now.”

“Hey,” Brandon said waving his hands exaggeratedly. “I don’t want to be caught up in the middle of a domestic dispute.”

“I’m not sure someone who can’t even wash his own clothes can be considered as domesticated,” Amara said, her eyes narrowed at Colin.

Colin glared at her. “I wash my own clothes.”

She gave him an obvious once over. “Yeah, maybe… your shirt does look a little stained.”

Brandon laughed loudly. Colin continued to glare, though it was losing its bite and regaining a tiny bit of playfulness. They looked at each other for a long moment and then he smiled.

“Forgive me if I’m not up to your standards, Ms. Maloof. Maybe you should come over tonight and show me how it’s done.” His flirtatious tone made her body hum with pleasure. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, that smile, those lips she wanted on her. She felt heat spread between her legs. It was as if everything he had done to upset her vanished in the instant he graced her with his smile.

“You guys might just beat me and Chloe on The Newlywed Game. You sure you can’t come on Friday?”

And just like that, the magic was gone. Amara averted her eyes and went back to her food. “I’m sure. Thanks for the invite though.”

COURTNEY’S SILENCE WORRIED Amara more than she cared to admit. She had no reason to doubt her friend. She’d given no reason not to trust her, but Amara had begun to worry when she’d asked about the auction and received silence in response. Courtney’s silence only meant two things to Amara: 1- Philip was watching her or 2- She was hanging on by a loose thread herself. Either way, Amara knew enough to know that Courtney couldn’t afford to be stuck in a bind.

“They always hold an auction,” Courtney said when she spoke to her last.

“I understand that. I just want to know what it’s like so I can be prepared for it,” she whispered back.

“Have you been to an auction before?”

“Well, yeah, but not a human auction…”

“Well, it’s the same thing. Instead of auctioning off a signed ball, they have girls up there while a select group of Méchant clients sit around and bid.”

The rush of Amara’s exhaling filled the line. “I think I can do that.”

“You can and you will. Stay put, you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.”

Silence drew out and Courtney exhaled into the line. “Have you told Colin about it?”

“No. Why would I?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes we say things to people we think we can trust. I still think it’s a little strange that he found you here. I mean… he found you and then somehow convinced Philip to let him keep you working for his company. It’s so…”

“What? It’s so what?” Amara asked in a rush, the sound of blood rushing her ears deafening her momentarily.

“I don’t know, just weird. Just be careful.”

“I am being careful. Colin isn’t… he isn’t a bad person.”

“I never said he was. All right, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Hey, Court,” Amara said before she could hang up.

“Yeah?”

“I saw Sam the other day.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. He was a total asshole.”

“Don’t take it personal, I’m sure he has a lot on his plate,” Courtney said with a small laugh.

“I guess. It’s just hard you know, trying to figure out who’s telling you the truth and who’s just using you.” What she’d said about Colin was playing over in her head as she said the words.

Courtney was silent for a moment. “I know.”

“’Kay, well, I’ll let you go, I just got here.”

“Good luck.”

As she walked up to the warehouse door, Amara felt no nervous flutters, only dismay as her mind drifted to her meeting with Philip and Jennings. She was only sure of one thing: she needed to finish this job before it finished her. As Amara knocked on the door, a young, slender girl greeted her. Amara stopped and gaped at her, juggling her cell phone so she didn’t drop it. Looking at the girl was almost like looking in the mirror, five years ago. She knew she wasn’t crazy; the girl must have thought the same thing, judging by the way she returned Amara’s stare.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked, her voice quiet, her shy eyes dropping to the floor as she spoke the words.

“Amara. What’s yours?”

“Ava.”

“Ava…How old are you, Ava?”

She brought up her wide eyes to meet Amara’s. “Eighteen.”

Heavy footsteps tore their eyes away from the other’s to watch Samuel approach. “Amara,” he said, looking between the two girls. “Upstairs please.”

“I’ll see you later,” Ava whispered as she locked the door and scrambled down a dark corridor.

“Who was that?” Amara asked Sam as she trailed behind him.

“That was Ava.”

“Yes, I caught that. She looks—“

“Just like you.”

“I know. How?”

Sam stopped walking and turned around. “You think your looks are original?”

“I never said that.”

He shrugged and turned back around, twisting the knob on the black door in front of him. It opened up to a large office, similar to the one Philip had in Paris. This one was bigger though. It had two desks, one old mahogany, and one more modern and sleek. Amara guessed he would sit in the more modern one, and he did. She sat in the chair across from him, her gaze flickering to the other side of the room.