House of Payne: Styx Page 18

  “Right.” Mentally girding her proverbial loins to just get through the day, she gave Styx a quick kiss before following Scout back toward the stairs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Scout Fournier was a gem, but not even she was capable of keeping Sydney company during Styx’s four-hour tattooing session, so eventually Sydney was left to her own devices.

  With Rudy Panuzzi acting as a discreet second shadow, she took a thorough turn through the first-floor art gallery, amazed at the depth of talent that had been collected under one roof. Something vital leaped in her chest when she spotted a beautiful piece—a mermaid breaking free from a fishman’s net. Even if she hadn't been aware of Styx’s love of anything having to do with water, she still would have known his artistic style anywhere.

  It was only when she spied another piece from across the gallery—this time a lighthouse on a rocky shore—that she realized she was able to spot Styx’s art as clearly as she’d spotted the man himself all those weeks ago in the grocery store.

  That was odd.

  Ogling Styx was one thing. Being able to spot his art as if she’d been around it her whole life was another. How was she already so familiar with such an intimate part of him? Technically speaking, they’d only known each other a handful of days. But within those days, they’d spent almost every waking moment together.

  How many dates did that equal?

  When it came to Styx, time was irrelevant.

  Besides, while she might not have known him long, she knew the most important things about him.

  He was kind.

  He loved his family.

  His lived for his art.

  His protective nature extended from his family all the way to perfect strangers like herself.

  And he’d taught her what multiple orgasms were.

  It was that last bit that made her overlook his highhandedness when it came to making her do whatever he wanted, she thought wryly. Come to find out, a woman could forgive a man one hell of a lot when he was capable of giving her multiple orgasms.

  She was on her way out of the gallery when she spotted the kid. Bulky winter jacket that was way too warm for a nice autumn day. Eyes darting here and there, but not looking at anyone. Hands clenching and unclenching with an excess of nerves.

  Talk about textbook. The kid ticked off just about every freaking box she’d been taught to look for in a shoplifter.

  But she wanted to give him the benefit of a doubt. Maybe he was just shy.

  And cold.

  Maybe.

  Idly she made her way from the gallery to the gift shop, trailing in the kid’s wake. As she did, she glanced at Rudy, who closed in on her the moment she made eye contact.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yep. I’m going to pop into the gift shop for a bit.” She gave him a winning smile, all the while keeping one eye trained on the kid. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “Oh, no. A big guy like you in a relatively small place like that makes me think of bulls and china shops.”

  “Not my fault that I’m almost six and a half feet tall. People who might want to stir shit up take one look at me and wisely decide to shit-stir somewhere else, so be grateful. Being big comes in handy when I’m on bodyguard duties.”

  “Makes sense.” A corner of her mouth curled as she watched the kid make his move. “To be honest, I don’t really know that I’m singularly qualified for my job, but I do know one thing. I’m good at it.”

  “What is it that you do?”

  “Secret shopper. Do you know what that is?” She was about to give him an example of it in another minute or so.

  A dubious sound escaped him. “You’re a professional thief detector. That’s not a great career for most folks, truth be told. A job like that is probably the reason people are gunning for you now.”

  “There’s no probably about it. I busted the Brisket Bandit where I work, and that got his shoplifting ring so pissed off they lost their minds and decided to run me down…” With a Caddy they’d stolen an entire week before the bust went down.

  Sydney blinked as the thing that had been bothering her in the back of her mind suddenly revealed itself in all its glory.

  The timing.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Up until that moment, she’d assumed the attack on her had been a spur-of-the-moment event, triggered by her capturing the Brisket Bandit. That was understandable; the day she’d nabbed the Bandit was the same day she’d been chased down the freeway.

  But the car that had chased her had been stolen days earlier.

  Either the Brisket Bandit’s posse had been remarkably prescient in preparing to attack her at some point, or…

  The people who’d stolen the Caddy—and then tried to kill her with it—had nothing to do with the Brisket Bandit’s capture.

  Maybe the Bandit’s posse was in the habit of stealing cars before they robbed grocery stores, she thought, trying to see all the angles. Maybe that was how they rolled, to minimize any chance of their getaway car being traced back to them.

  But if they were so slick at stealing big-ticket items like cars, why did they then run the added risk of getting caught while stealing small-ticket items like groceries?

  Again, that didn’t make sense.

  What did make sense was that whoever stole that Cadillac hadn’t been after her because she’d finally caught a grocery thief. They’d targeted her for some other reason. And that meant…

  It meant it was entirely possible she had another enemy out there in the world she knew nothing about. Hell, she could have dozens of enemies out there.

  Any of them could be stalking her.

  Shit.

  “Sydney?”

  “Sorry.” She blinked and tried to cover the horror yawning deep in the pit of her stomach. “I was just… thinking. Be right back,” she went on before he could say anything, and made straight for the shoplifter. She needed to move, move, move, because the fear simmering in her chest was threatening to boil over. If she kept moving, maybe she could outrun it.

  “Hi there.” She slid up beside the kid, shooting for a friendly air. “Are you here to get a tattoo? I’m getting one in a couple hours and I’m trying not to freak out about it. I’ve heard it hurts. But I guess that makes sense, right? Tattoos are made with needles, so of course it’s going to hurt. I hope I don’t faint.”

  Predictably the kid jumped about a foot before looking at her like she was nuts, then turned away with an unintelligible mumble.

  Gamely, she shadowed him. “You know what’s great about this place? House Of Payne gets all the superstars to come to their door, because it really is the best of the best. I still can’t believe I’m getting ink done where all the greats get their ink. How cool is that?”

  “Uh-huh, yeah. Cool.” Without looking at her, the kid headed for the gift shop’s door, and no doubt the exit beyond.

  She needed to hustle this up.

  “The thing is, security’s got to be killer in a place like this, to deal with all that star power, you know? I hear the Prince of Wales gets his tats here, so we’re talking top-drawer security that doesn’t miss a thing. Not even a nickel-and dime shoplifter that they really don’t have the time to mess with, but since it’s House Of Payne property, they have to. And then, because it’s protocol, they’ll have to call in the police, and of course that ruins some poor kid for the rest of his life. That is to say, it’ll ruin that kid if he makes the mistake of stepping off-property with stolen goods.” When the kid’s eyes at last jerked to hers, she gave him a kind smile, because she wanted with all her heart for him to choose the right path. “Luckily, no one has tried to step off-property with any stolen stuff today, so no crime has been committed. Even now, standing here, no crime has been committed. Isn’t that great? And since I’m here chatting with you, and I’ve discovered you’re such a nice kid listening to me babble because I’m so nervous about getting a tatt
oo, I would love to pay for anything you might have accidentally picked up. That way, you could leave with it legally. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”

  “Lady,” the kid finally said, and she almost laughed at how his adolescent voice cracked, “who the fuck are you?”

  “She’s your guardian angel, kid.” A scowling man with spiky brown hair, hazel eyes and the world’s best cheekbones stepped out from what Sydney had assumed was a storage room, and it took her a moment to realize that this was the famous man that had launched a thousand tattoos—the great Sebastian Payne himself. “Get that shit out of your jacket, now. You’re coming upstairs with me so we can call your parents to come down here and pick you up. And you,” he added, looking directly at Sydney even as he beckoned toward the ever-watchful Rudy, “I think I’d like for you to come up as well. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

  *

  Sydney could only hope Styx didn’t find out she’d landed herself in the big man’s office. She’d never hear the end of it.

  “I could be wrong,” Sebastian Payne said as he closed the door behind their young thief, his quietly infuriated parents and Echo, their escort, “but I have a feeling young Adam isn’t going to be boosting shit anytime soon. From the way his parents were talking, he’s going to grounded until he’s thirty.”

  “He’s a good kid, and he has great parents who know what they’re doing.” Not at all sure why she was there, Sydney darted a baffled look Rudy’s way, where he stood by the door. His imperceptible shake of his head told her that he knew just as much as she did, so she returned her attention to Sebastian Payne. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  “He'll be fine because of you.” Sebastian Payne came around his glass and chrome executive desk and sat down, nailing her to the spot with a hard stare. “You saved that kid’s ass today.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “You mean you made it look like nothing, when that was actually a pretty sticky situation. You handled it like a pro.”

  Funny he should put it like that. “I am a pro. I do this for a living for Market Place Corporation.”

  “Thought it might be something like that.” He nodded, keeping his gaze trained on her as he laced his hands in front of him. “So, Sydney Bishop. You happy working for that grocery store chain?”

  Uh, what? “I guess so, Mr. Payne.”

  “Just Payne. Are you saying you don't know if you’re happy at your job?”

  “I’m saying you're catching me at a bad time with that particular question. I’ve had reason to reevaluate my career choices recently.”

  “What reason would that be?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “The past four days, someone’s been trying to kill her,” Rudy offered.

  Apparently it wasn’t that long of a story, after all. “It’s being handled by the police. But in the meantime, this explains why my new friend Rudy is shadowing me. It’s entirely possible I could become an inadvertent security risk whenever I’m out in public, so I’m sorry in advance for any potential disruption.”

  “Crazy shit’s always happening under this roof, so honestly it sounds just like any other day here at the House. What I’m interested in is you.” To her amazement, he waved off the potential catastrophe that was her existence like it was no biggie. “I liked how you handled that kid. You were kind and you treated him like a human being, while still letting him know his ass was caught in a wringer. I was about to land on him like a ton of bricks when suddenly you were there, doing your thing, and it was way better than I could’ve ever handled it.”

  That was nice of him to say. “Thank you.”

  “The thing is, you were right. The security we have for the House is big-gun stuff, generally speaking. We have a red-carpet event, Private Security International sends me these commando types like Rudy here, and that’s great. But it’s exactly like you said. These big guys, with their Army Ranger muscles and their Navy SEAL training and their fuck-knows-what-all, sneer at the nickel-and-dime stuff.”

  Sydney couldn’t stop herself from turning to smirk at Rudy. “Snob.”

  Rudy’s expression was the personification of deadpan. “You don’t use a Howitzer to deal with a mouse.”

  “See? Unfortunately, losing money on the nickel-and-dime shit in any business is like death by a thousand cuts, so ultimately I’ve still got a security problem. You and your expertise could be the answer to that problem.”

  “I've got too many problems of my own to ever be the answer to anyone else’s.”

  “Yeah, but what about when your problems get fixed? That hot box of crazy your life’s got going on now isn’t going to last forever.”

  It certainly felt like it was lasting forever. “Let’s hope not.”

  “Are you even interested in continuing with this line of work once your situation is resolved?”

  The question made her pause for only a second, but in that second her brain went into overdrive. Was she interested in being a secret shopper for the rest of her life? She was remarkably good at it, but it wasn’t a passion, and it certainly wasn’t something she’d ever imagined herself doing. When she’d been offered the job with its eye-popping pay raise, she’d snapped it up in a heartbeat, but it wasn’t like she’d found her calling. She loved the money the job provided, not the job itself. She knew what it was to love something with all her heart, because she’d loved dancing that way.

  Being a secret shopper was a job.

  That was all.

  It was a job with an epic paycheck, she reminded herself firmly. But the truth was, she’d drop it like a hot rock if something else in the field of dance came along that paid as well. Maybe she’d even go looking for a job like that after all was said and done. Nothing was tying her down to working at Market Place, or even staying in Chicago. She could go anywhere, do anything.

  Then the image of Styx filled her brain so completely she nearly gasped out loud.

  No.

  She couldn’t leave Chicago.

  Styx was in Chicago, and she couldn’t leave Styx, because…

  She loved him.

  Holy crap.

  “It’s too early to say what I’m going to do once I’m clear of all the madness,” she said finally, trying not to freak out. But damn, that was a tall order. How could she be so stupid, falling in love with her pretend boyfriend? “But for now, I think I'm going to have to say no.”

  “You sure? I could make it worth your while.”

  “Great pay is what lured me into that job in the first place. See how well that turned out?”

  Payne sighed. “Well, if you’re sure. But if you change your mind, let me know. My door is always—”

  The double doors to Payne’s office suddenly exploded open, almost hitting Rudy in the process. Styx stormed through, not looking at anyone but Sydney, even as Payne surged to his feet.

  “What the fuck, Styx, you ever heard of knocking?”

  “Are you okay?” Acting like he hadn’t even heard Payne, Styx was kneeling down in front of Sydney, his hands grabbing hers while his eyes went all over her, as if looking for bloody wounds. “I asked Scout to check up on you and she told me you were in with Payne after an incident downstairs. What happened?”

  Oh, this sweet man… “Nothing happened, I swear. All I did was catch a kid trying to lift some merchandise. We had a little intervention, and that was all there was to it. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Fuck me.” His eyes closed a second before he dropped her hands, only to wrap her up in a bone-creaking bearhug. She hugged him back, all the while trying not to gasp like a landed fish. “Fuck me. You have to stay in my sight for the rest of the day, you got that? I know you’re safe if I’ve got eyes on you.”

  “Styx, that’s crazy,” she wheezed out, then sighed in relief when he released her just long enough to silence her with a hard, brief kiss.

  “Syd, you don’t get to tell me what’s crazy. There’s someone out there who has no goddamn problem p
laying fucking Mario Kart with you on I-90, then takes another shot at you when you were out with me. I learned from that. One of the things I learned was to make sure I have you where I can see you.”

  “Nobody came near me or even looked my w—”

  “Not the fucking point, Syd. They could have. So I’ve made an executive decision. You’re in my booth for the rest of the day.”

  “Yeah, no.” Payne shook his head and raised an eyebrow at Styx, who seemed to just now register the other man’s presence. “Let’s review. You bring your lady friend in because you’re shitting kittens over what’s going on with her. Not surprising, of course. I’d be in the same state if I were in your shoes. Your lady friend—who I didn’t even know was your lady friend until this moment—stops a kid from fucking up his life, and is so damn phenomenal with him that I offer her a job on the spot. Everything is sunshine and roses, but you don’t care about that because you’re still shitting kittens about life being fucked up for your lady friend. She’s surrounded by the best security money can buy, she’s made a good friend in me, and she doesn’t seem to have a dumbass bone in her body, so logically you know she’s going to follow our strict security protocols. But still, still, you’re shitting kittens.”

  “I’ve honestly never heard that phrase before, but now I’m dying to use it,” Sydney muttered to no one in particular. Rudy snorted, then pretended he was clearing his throat.

  “Payne, are you going to get to your point any time soon?” Styx wanted to know, sliding into that maddening smile she’d seen him use time and again, first with his brother and father, and then with Max upstairs. That was when she realized that, with the exception of Loki, the people here were just like Trey and Arthur to him—family. “I kinda left my hipster client with his ass hanging in the breeze back in my booth. For the most part I’ve got the old tat that was supposed to be Simba looking like a realistic lion’s head, but I’m not done yet. Also, I need to prepare Syd for seeing this dude’s skinny ass without laughing herself sick, so I’d appreciate it if you could speed things up.”