Harem Wish 1 by Jen Eastwood

Author:Jen Eastwood [Eastwood, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-09T21:00:00+00:00

With those two along for the ride with all that money, it didn’t take long to start checking luxury apartments. A few million could outright buy four bedrooms, dozens of stories in the air. I hadn’t quit Rick’s shop just yet, and I’ll get to why, eventually.

In the meantime, I was ready to move into a neighborhood that wasn’t an urban shooting range. But that presented its own problems.

We hadn’t spoken in years, but I knew Steve Perkins was the one guy who could help me. At least, without running his mouth. He still owed me for lying about who burned down the old feed mill.

Opening a new browser tab among the pile of upper-crust realty listings, I pulled up his social media. After a little digging, I found the accounting firm that had offered him an obscene compensation package out of college.

A stuffy receptionist picked up after a few tones. “Jeffries and Bell. How may I direct your call?”

“Steven Perkins.”

“Your client ID?”

Fuck. It was time for my one true skill: Bullshitting.

Sucking in a good breath, I put on a fake smile that would carry through in my voice. “The company he told me to invest in is about to file chapter eleven. I need his ass on the line, now.”

The line clicked right before a different ringtone buzzed in my ear.

“This is Steve.”

I let the Indiana corn-pone flood back into my voice. “Hey there, Whistle-Dick!”

A moment of silence almost roared through the speaker next to my ear.

Grinning like a fool at clown college, I knew it was time to jar him back to life. “This is Nate Collins. I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

Being the one guy in our graduating class who had made something of himself, Steve already had his answer loaded. “I can’t drive three hours to bail you out. Sorry bud.”

“How much money would you need to handle to make it worth your time?”

He sighed on the other end of the call, from somewhere downtown. “If you aren’t talking seven or eight digits, this firm isn’t a wise choice for you.”

The look on my face hadn’t dulled at all. “Nine figures, actually, and I’m not looking for a firm. I need a fixer.”

“What have you gotten yourself into, Nate?”

Other than those two downstairs, nothing yet. “I’ve got a reservation at Elm & Blocker tonight. Seven-thirty. My treat.”

“That’s a generous offer.” Which was guaranteed to cost as much as my rent, no matter how much the restaurant portrayed itself as ‘upscale, but not.’ “Care to hint at what this is about?”

“After I hang up, I’ll send you a picture that should explain enough. You up for being there?”

“Half-past-seven. Got it.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and tapped the red button on the screen. Even though the guy lived in the world of spreadsheets, a photo of enough cash to fill a hot tub would get the point across well enough.

But now that I had ‘accomplices’ on my payroll, Kylee and Sierra needed something classier than a Honkers uniform or laundry-day clothes.

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