And he did. He just had additions.

“First, you go down on me in my chair. Then I f**k you on the desk.”

Total happy place spasm so big it sent quivers down my inner thighs.

“You get that, then I get you returning the favor with me on your desk,” I bartered.

Ren was an easy sell.

I knew this when his mouth came to mine, his eyes burning, and he replied, “Done.”

Then his arms closed tight and he kissed me.

In the end, I really couldn’t tell you which phase of sex on (and around) Ren’s desk was the highlight.

So I figured we had to do it again, and soon, just so I could make sure.

Really hoped Vito would cave so my man could be close to me.

Seriously.

And not just so we could carpool.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Salvation

One week later…

I drove my Mustang into underground parking at my office.

It was nearly noon and I was still working mornings at Fortnum’s because Indy was still in the throes of morning sickness, and according to her doctors, would be for a while.

Although this was gross, she now had so much practice hurling, a quick, “Hang on,” dash to the bathroom, return, “I’m back” happened frequently.

My BFF.

Nothing fazed her.

All was settling in Rock Chick/Hot Bunch Land, which also meant in Ren and Ally Land.

For me, it was mornings at Fortnum’s, work my cases, evenings with Ren.

For Ren, it was work enduring a Vito freeze-out and thus working to wrap things up in order to leave, then evenings with me where I tried to make him feel better.

He hid it, but it was wearing on him.

I’d done what I could do with Vito.

The rest was up to Ren to decide.

That was, of course, if I didn’t lose it, charge into Vito’s office and rip him a new one. Though, I suspected that wouldn’t help.

And I had cases. Two of them. One, Shirleen (and thus Lee) had punted me. One was from a friend who had a friend who needed help.

Surprisingly, when I shared that I didn’t accept gift cards or discounts as payment anymore; she said she’d talk to her friend and share this info. Then her friend came in and chatted with Daisy. After that, she hired me.

Both cases were domestics and I was working them with Matt. From experience, neither case would last long. That said, it was interesting having a partner.

Interesting in a good way.

Matt was kind of the Unknown Hot Bunch Guy. I’d spent time around him. Partied with him. Shot the shit with him. I knew his girlfriend, Daphne. I knew he was hot in a boy next door kind of way. But other than that, not much.

Now I knew he was good at his job.

Oh, and since we were working the job together and this necessitated communicating, I also now knew that he’d bought Daphne a ring. I further knew that the day of the Big Ask was this coming Saturday.

“And if you tell even a single Rock Chick, Ally, I’ll shoot you,” he’d warned me with a not-very boy next door look on his face.

So Matt could be badass.

Good to know.

I’d zipped my lips. He’d shaken his head. But I didn’t tell a single Rock Chick.

I was one of the girls.

But now I was also one of the guys.

How totally f**king righteous was that?

The one pall hanging over everything was the fact that neither Lee and his boys, nor Ren unleashing Lucky and Santo, had meant success in finding Snookie Rivers.

I tried to tell myself that he’d realized he’d been made and he’d found someone else to stalk. When I did this I didn’t believe myself, nor did I like the idea of him stalking someone else. So this concerned me and I was keen to have that situation done.

But Brody had a lock on my phone. I had devices in my car and purse, and they tracked me in the surveillance room at Nightingale Investigations all the time. Not to mention, I frequently saw Lucky or Santo hanging close.

So I was covered.

I still wished someone would find the sicko.

As I made my way to the elevator, I texted Ren with, In the building.

In the elevator on the way to our floor, my phone binged with, All right, honey.

I grinned, not caring that I had to check in (and frequently), with Ren. If it made him breathe easy, I’d do it. If I could do anything to make him breathe easy, I’d do it (mostly).

I exited the elevator, walked down the hall, opened the door to my offices and was confronted with World War III.

Namely, Daisy and Shirleen going at it.

“You’re makin’ me look bad!” Shirleen shouted, hands on hips, leaning across Daisy’s desk toward Daisy.

“So do the filin’, and not the kind you do to your nails!” Daisy shouted back, also with hands on h*ps doing the leaning thing.

Uh-oh.

I moved in, making sure the door swung closed, hoping that would drown out the noise.

“Ladies—” I began.

Daisy looked at me. “Just so you know, sugar, I got an appointment for fills, I do it on my lunch hour.”

“Suck up,” Shirleen snapped.

“I’m not suckin’ up!” Daisy snapped back.

Shirleen leaned back. “At least Shirleen don’t suck up.”

Daisy slammed a hand on the desk, her long nails (white with green glitter tips) clicking, and she screamed, “I’m not suckin’ up!”

Hmm.

That would filter into the hall.

Definitely.

Time to end this.

“Yo!” I shouted, and they both swung their eyes to me.

Okay. So. I didn’t get scared.

Shirleen and Daisy pissed with their eyes to me?

I had to admit. I felt it.

“Daisy isn’t a suck up. She doesn’t have to suck up. We’re a team,” I told Shirleen.

“See,” Daisy said snottily.

“Just like,” I put in quickly when Shirleen opened her mouth, “you’re a member of Lee’s team. You have your way of doing things over there.” I threw out an arm. “We have our way of doing things here.” I pointed to the floor.

“You’re workin’ with the boys,” Shirleen said to me. “They’ll see Daisy in action and get ideas.”

Was she high?

I wasn’t certain that Lee’s boys even knew Daisy worked for me. And if they did, it was in passing and they didn’t give a shit.

“Does Lee care if you file?” I asked.