Which was a lie. I actually loved to kiss. It was the seduction of it. Learning about someone, feeling them out, finding out just the right tempo and slide. Kissing was amazing. Even with the women that I had zero intention of ever seeing again. It was part of the fun.

  But the blonde gave a very clear I might be a clinger vibe. When she looked disappointed about the kiss, she'd offered to blow me instead. She likely thought that a blow job would change my mind. She had a certain level of skill I appreciated. Clearly, she'd done that before. Many times. But there was something too cold, too calculating about her. Practice makes perfect and all.

  Too much like Mina. When she’d left me in the shower gasping from release and told me she'd see me again, I knew I had been right. That possessive glance in her eye told me our little interaction was a one and done. I didn't need that harassment.

  And still, you think a blow job isn't going to earn you a stalker?

  It should be easy enough to avoid if I had to.

  What the hell happened to you? The bloke who once hated the way other men used women and discarded them.

  What the fuck had happened to me was Mina. And my father. I deserved to let loose just a little. Finding out your fiancée was a mole planted by your own father had a way of souring you on love.

  When I walked into the office, it was 6:59 a.m., and I stopped short. Ben sat on my chair, feet up on my desk, shoes and all. Twat. East was over among the couches, laptop on his lap. Drew was on one of the club chairs, sipping back coffee like it was a job. His eyes were bloodshot, and despite the crispness of his suit, he looked like he’d maybe slept in it.

  What the hell was going on with him? East would have to ask. East was the sensitive one. The one with the heart. People liked him. They told him shit, right?

  There was also an unexpected visitor on one of the couches opposite of East. Brenda Fornace. She was our publicity person. "Was there a meeting on the calendar?" I asked.

  Ben shook his head and pinned me with a glare. I wondered what the fuck had crawled up his arse.

  Brenda stood. "Bridge, it's good to see you."

  "Likewise. What's the matter?"

  East just shook his head at me. "Mate, did you have to get caught? By paps no less?"

  I frowned. "Caught doing what?"

  Drew laughed. "Well, we could draw you a diagram, but from the looks of the photo, you already know who we're talking about."

  I glanced around at my mates. "What the fuck are you on about?"

  Brenda brought the paper over. "This ran this morning."

  It was a photo of me looking disheveled, unkempt, and freshly fucked at the Bornan Benefit last week. Oh yes, Anisa Bucker? She and her husband were always on the verge of divorce according to him. "Yes, it was a little cliché, but what’s the problem? I didn’t notice anyone with a camera afterward."

  "Well, it’s a problem now," Brenda muttered as she planted her hands on her hips.

  Bullshit. After all the shite Ben and East had pulled over the last several years, I’d be damned if she was going to crawl up my arse because I’d shagged a model. "Why? First of all, the photo doesn't show me actually shagging the woman, so what's the problem?"

  Ben stood up. "The Zicks Hotel, remember them?"

  I really had slept like shit. My normally sharp mind was sluggish. I tried to piece together why the hell everyone was pissed off. We were working on their merger. The Zicks hotel chain was one of the largest privately owned hotel conglomerates in the world. While Emma had been asking what the fuck we were doing about Middleton, this merger was part of that.

  Francis Middleton had had a hard-on for the Zicks account for their private management and branding for years. Rumor was that he'd dated the one and only Zicks heiress and the family had deemed him inappropriate and run him off. Which was ridiculous. His father was a lord. But ever since, he'd wanted in with the company.

  "You were caught, mate. The grand dame, Fredericka Zicks, has already emailed about it. She wants to discuss our future partnership."

  I cursed under my breath. "Are you fucking kidding me? That was nearly a done deal."

  Drew winked at me. "Well, until you undid another deal. Was it a socialite this time? A model? Who was it?"

  I scowled at him. "Shut it. We'll just do a charity benefit or something. Take the attention off."

  Brenda laughed. "No PR campaign is going to make her unsee this. You literally look like you were just shagging someone in the cupboard. Were you?"

  Yep, sure was. I winced. "Fine, I’ll meet with the old lady. Smooth her feathers. Not a big deal."

  Brenda’s phone buzzed and she excused herself for a moment.

  When she was gone, Ben leaned forward. "It's a big deal. This was how we were going to go after Middleton," Ben said. His eyes were direct and clear. No joking. No laid-on charm. He was serious.

  I slid my gaze to East for help. There was no way I had fucked us so badly with one transgression. I refused to accept this.

  East only shrugged. "Mate, I have tried to find every other avenue around Middleton. He is squeaky clean. The only way we get in is this way. And let me break it down for you; he knows his mates have already gone down. He already suspects it was us, but I have a feeling he's going to be slippery. We can't afford to lose this opportunity."

  Brenda strolled back then with a glower pinned on me.

  "What do you want me to do about it? Like I said, I’ll talk to the old lady."

  Brenda sniffed. "That’s not going to be enough this time, pretty boy. But I could come up with a plan for you."

  "Oh, yeah? Fine, whatever it takes. I'll do it."

  "I'm so glad to hear you say that, because this plan involves you getting married."

  I turned my head to glare at my mates and laughed. "You have got to be kidding me."

  She shook her head, her red bob bouncing along her stout shoulders. "No, I'm not. You need a reputation change. You've gone a little off the rails since Mina. This will fix it."

  The fuck? Like I needed some kind of public lobotomy. It wasn’t happening. "Then I guess we're not fixing it because getting married is the last thing on earth I'm doing."

  Emma

  That motherfucker.

  He had locked me in a room like an intractable child. I was going to murder him.

  I'd woken up to find the door open, so at least last night wasn't a staged kidnapping to make me his sex slave.

  He'd have to want you first.

  Fine, my ego could take the hit. What did I care?

  I'd headed home that morning, and then I'd put out the 999 to the women. I probably should have gone to them first anyway. I just had thought that Bridge was my direct line. Because my brother, like the lads, had been part of that world. And I knew that they loved him nearly as much as I did. They'd gone to all this trouble to make things right. Except, it seemed they wouldn't make the final step.

  They will. They're just not letting you take it with them.

  God, I hated them.

  No. You don’t. They’re your family.

  With my mum splitting her time between Toronto and New York with her sisters, and my father just as absent as he’d ever been, the lads were my family. Which was why it hurt so much that they were shutting me out. After a shower and a strong coffee, I'd sent out the SOS to the girls text group. The group consisted of Livy Ashong, Ben’s fiancée; Nyla Kincade, East’s fiancée; Telly Brinx, Livy’s bestie; Amelia, Nyla’s partner at INTERPOL and the women from the Winston Isles. Penny was the queen, and Jessa, Ariel and Bryna, were all princesses. It had been Telly, our resident tech genius, who had replied first. And then all the girls in the group chat had chimed in. Penny and Ariel had been all about the have-to-make-them-pay attitude. Okay, who was I kidding? That was mostly Ariel. She was terrifying when she got going. There was almost no line that was too far to cross short of murder. And I loved every ounce of her.

  But Penny, Ariel, Bryna, and Jessa weren't here. So it was going to have to be Telly, Livy, and Nyla. Telly suggested meeting up at her place so that the boys couldn't spy on us. Which was smart. Because as down for the cause as Livy and Nyla were, the boys made it impossible to keep anything a secret. And once one of them knew, they all knew. They gossiped worse than teenagers.

  So that night as I skipped up the walk toward Telly's place, I glanced around. I loved this complex of flats. They had that whole work-living feel to them, and if you were lucky, you could get one that overlooked the Thames. Those were more money of course. I had some money saved from my last job, but I had to ask Telly and see if I could even afford a small studio there.

  And that was why the next line item was to get a job. Luckily, the job that Bridge secured for me in New York to keep me out of his hair completely overpaid me, and they’d made me an offer to let me keep working while I was back in London. I just had to write marketing plans, which were easy, and I could do it in my sleep. And that would tag me over until I had something more permanent.

  Telly buzzed me in, and I strolled in to find all the girls already there. With hugs all around and a large wine glass placed in my hand, Telly plopped back on her massive sectional, which took up nearly the whole room. "Tell Mama Telly everything. Who are we killing?"

  I laughed even as I glanced around for her wife, Carmen. "Is Carmen here?"

  She shook her head. "Carmen and I are having a disagreement. So she is off in Bristol, checking on the clinic there."

  Olivia slid Telly a look. "Mm-hmm,” was all she said.

  Telly threw up her hands. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't start this argument."

  Livy rolled her eyes. "This is classic you, Tell. The moment things are going well, you need to sabotage them. I'm surprised you even got married."

  Telly scoffed. "Ugh, harsh."

  Livy just shrugged and took a large gulp of wine. "Mm, true."

  My gaze darted back and forth. "What's happening?"

  Olivia pointed at Telly. "This one is mad at her wife because her wife wants a baby."

  Telly jumped in then. "I'm not mad at her. I'm just confused because we agreed we weren't having children."

  Olivia shrugged. "Well, it looks like she wants to revisit the idea."

  Telly shook her head. "No, we've only been married for six months. Plus, I was very clear that I do not like children. They are sticky and snotty and loud. So loud."

  I frowned. "Wait, didn't I see you happily munching on the cheeks of Penny and Sebastian's daughter?"

  Her eyes went wide. "That is different. She's a cherub. A little brown cherub. And her cheeks… My God, she has cheeks for days. She has extra, so I alleviated her of some. Look, babies are adorable. They're cute, especially fat babies. Fat babies are the best. I don't trust a skinny baby. But look, I don't want to have my own baby. They smell bad ninety-nine percent of the time. Whether it's that sour milk smell, or the poop smell, or the vomit smell, they just always smell. And they demand attention. Plus, I love our flat. We can't have a baby in a flat. You need a home with a garden and all that stuff. And I am not the pram mommy running around, you know, at brunch and things. Clearly, as much trouble as we get into with heists and the danger... I mean, come on."

  Olivia shrugged. "I'm just saying, maybe if you heard her concerns..."

  "I don't want a baby. In fact, I said I don't want a baby before we married, and she agreed that she did not need children. But now she says, 'Oh, but wouldn't it be great?' I know what that means, so I told her to take some time and think about what she really wanted out of our relationship. So she went to Bristol."

  I winced. "Telly, don’t throw this away. You have to talk.”

  She waved a hand. "She'll be back. She will see that I am being sane and rational."

  Livy sighed. "For starters, no one would ever call you sane and rational. Secondly, I'm not suggesting that you have a baby, especially since you're so adamantly against it. What I'm suggesting is that you communicate and hear what she's got going on, because sometimes the baby isn't really about the baby."

  "No, you haven't seen her. She's got that look. The one where she seems to squish every chubby cherub around. We can't walk ten feet on Sundays for brunch without her just going, 'Ohh, look at the baby.'"

  We all sighed. Nyla came in from the kitchen. "Did someone say babies?" She looked terrified.

  I laughed. "You're not a fan either?"

  She shrugged. "You know, I'm actually not opposed. But God, I love sleep. And sex whenever I want."

  "Uh-huh. God, you do have layers. What about you, Liv?"

  Livy smiled. "Oh, I love babies. And I think left to his own devices, Ben would have me knocked up and pregnant all the time. I just also happen to love my job. So it's about timing. I'll have to decide when I'm ready. And Telly, when that happens, you can squeeze all the cheeks you want."

  Telly clapped. "See? This, I love. I am Auntie Telly. I'm not Mummy. God." She said it really slowly. "And you have great tits, Livy. Your tits would withstand a baby. Mine would not. Or Carmen's. Carmen's already sagging a little bit. I like them though because they're so big. But look, they're not going to withstand stretchmarks and a baby tugging on them all the time. My God, those are my boobies."

  Livy snorted so hard she nearly spilled her wine. "Oh my God, I love you, Tell. Jesus."

  Telly shrugged. "What? Priorities."

  I rolled my eyes. "Guys, can we get back to the problem at hand? Mine?"

  "Yeah, sorry." Telly frowned. "Okay, so you're saying Bridge locked you in the bedroom?"

  "Yes, but that’s not the point. The point is, I asked him to let me help with Middleton, and he refused. He won't tell me anything. He won't give me any information. He's completely gone back on his word to let me be involved."

  Livy pursed her lips. "Yeah, Ben's become reticent as well."

  Nyla crossed her arms and paced. "Yeah, you know, East is the same way because, sure, I mean, I came in late. But after we dealt with Garreth Jameson, you’d think they'd be happy to take care of this final asshole, but it's like they've got some plan and they're not sharing."

  Telly nodded. "I mean, not that you want to spy on your fiancés, because that would be awful. But… If you did want to spy on your fiancés, you know, there are easy ways to do that."

  Nyla frowned. "You’ve met my fiancé, right?"

  Telly laughed. "Yes, and I’m a better hacker than he is. I'll have his passwords in no time. If you, you know, if you were to give me permission." The truth was, they were both great hackers, but East was a hair better. No one ever dreamed of telling him that though.

  Nyla shook her head. "No, I can't do that. I don't want to do that. But there must be other ways that we can look into what they're doing."

  I shook my head. "What if we just let them do their thing and we did our own?"

  Telly nodded, leaning forward. "Go on. I'm here for this."

  Livy shook her head. "Honestly, let me just ask Ben.”

  I shook my head. "No, I don't want to know that there is a plan. I want to be part of it. Toby was my brother."

  Everyone glanced around. It was Nyla whose voice was surprisingly soft. She didn't usually take the empathetic route, but she surprised me when she said, "Ems, have you ever thought that they're just trying to protect you? Toby was your brother, but they loved him too. And the fact that you were the one who pointed out their failings means they feel responsible to fix it. And the fact that this has been so remarkably dangerous means they want to keep you out of it and keep you safe. They think it's the least they can do for him."

  I shook my head. "There has to be a better way. He was my brother. I wish I could explain. I feel unsettled, and it's like there's a hole in my chest. I can't move forward. I am stuck. And until that last asshole gets what's coming to him, I will stay stuck. I have no closure for myself. Mum has been able to move on past it, but every time I turn around, or I have a question, or some bloke fucks with me, I miss him. I need my brother."

  Telly took my hand, and her smaller one was warm as she squeezed hard. "Well, we're here for you. If you want us to go on our own lady heist, I'm here for it. We're Ocean's Eight."

  I rolled my eyes. "Well, fun, but not really the best premise for a movie."

  She laughed. "Right. Because honestly, what was Anne Hathaway even doing in that movie?"

  "Right?"

  We high-fived.

  Livy just chuckled. "Look, you know we are the bad idea crew. Or rather, the boys are. How about we be smarter? Think this through. Maybe there's another way to get to Middleton. One we haven't really considered. One the lads haven't considered either."

  Maybe she had a point. No reason to fly in blind as we often did. But then a colossally bad idea. I knew it was bad the moment it dawned on me. "Hey guys, I'm back now and I'm looking for a job. Something a little bit more permanent. Why don't I get one?"

  Nyla’s sharp gaze narrowed on mine. "Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

  I grinned. "Why don't I apply for a job with Middleton Communications?"

  I should have known by their faces that this was the worst idea I'd ever had. Livy and Nyla’s brows furrowed, but Telly clapped. Her enthusiasm alone should have told me this was a very, very bad idea.

  Chapter Four

  Bridge

  My bloody head had been pounding all goddamn day. How the fuck had this happened? When I strolled into my flat at the London Lords hotel, I tossed my keys haphazardly onto the counter. I wasn't sure which part of my day was worse, Brenda slapping down that image of me or suggesting I get married to fix everything. It was an image I hated. I looked wrecked. Out of control. Like the person I’d been once.

  If I saw that picture of me, I wouldn't bloody do business with me either. I'd seen a million blokes like that. Where I had grown up in East London wasn't exactly the gritty working-class area it had once been. But there were still many neighborhoods that weren't exactly desirable. And that's where I'd grown up. Mum doing her best. Dad pretending I didn't exist. So many of my friends who looked like they were whacked out and out of control.