Complete Me (The Stark Trilogy)

for somebody else, but the image just won’t play in my brain.
    “Oh, yeah,” she says. “It was like someone took a knife and sliced my heart to bits. But I’m okay,” she says with a sigh. “What we had was really special. And that girl? She’s just a fling. Temporary. He’s going to come back to me. I know it.”
    I want to tell her to move on. Instead, I just smile and say, “I really hope you’re right.”
    I treat Edward to a latte, and he walks me to the office. “I’ll bring the limo around as soon as we have you inside,” he says, then goes with me into the building and past reception. Once I’m settled in, he disappears, presumably to park the limo in the lot and listen to his audiobook until I’m ready to go.
    Despite the fact that the last time I was in this office I was treated to images of myself with my face scratched off, I actually manage to get some work done, and I’m feeling rather smug about my productivity when Giselle calls to tell me that she won’t be coming by to show me any samples today.
    “No problem. I’m going to skip out in a few hours anyway.” Tonight I’m cutting loose at Westerfield’s, and Jamie and I have already planned to spend hours obsessing about our wardrobe before we decide on the perfect outfits. Coupled with the flavored vodka we’ll undoubtedly be sipping, the whole process should be fun. “Is everything okay?” I ask Giselle.
    “Couldn’t be better,” she trills. “A client coming in. One of my best ones.”
    “Better be careful who you say that to. Damien won’t be keen on getting knocked from the top slot.”
    There’s a pause, and then she lowers her voice. “To be honest, Damien is the client. But promise me you won’t say a word. I have a feeling he wants to buy a canvas for your office.”
    I laugh, delighted. “Really? I promise to be surprised.”
    I’m still smiling when Damien calls. “Hey,” I say. “I was just about to head back to Malibu to get ready for tonight. Are we going to grab something out for dinner, or do you want me to bribe Jamie to cook?”
    “Why don’t you two pick your favorite restaurant—my treat—and I’ll meet you at the club later.”
    “Work?”
    “A meeting. I have a feeling it’ll run long.”
    “Oh? Where will you be? We could have Edward swing by and pick you up when you’re done.”
    I’m baiting him, of course, but he gives nothing away.
    “You girls have fun,” he says firmly. “But not too much fun. Not until I get there, anyway. And, Nikki,” he adds, “I’ve already spoken to my manager about security at the club, so they’re stepping it up a notch. You’ll be watched.”
    “All right,” I say. I’d expected as much.
    “And I’m sending Ryan to the club. I want him with you until I get there.”
    Now I do feel guilty. “Poor guy. He probably used to have a life before he had to start chasing my monsters.”
    “There’s nothing he likes better than taking down a monster,” Damien says. “And the fact that I pay him so well makes it even more fun. Trust me, you don’t have to feel sorry for Ryan.”
    I laugh. “Okay, then. But, Damien? Please hurry.”
    Westerfield’s is loud and fun, with some of the best bartenders and DJs in the city. Ollie and Jamie and I discovered it even before Damien was on my radar, but we’ve been by a few times since, and the bouncer who mans the VIP entrance gives me alittle salute as Jamie and I approach. Edward escorts us to the door, but he doesn’t follow us in, returning instead to the limo.
    I’m wearing a slinky silver skirt and matching tank top with three-inch silver shoes. Jamie is my opposite in all black, the color unusually sophisticated for her. The style, however, adds the kick that Jamie usually finds in color. It is essentially backless, all the way down to the dimples just above her ass. The bodice is held in place by a series of loose black cords that crisscross over her shoulder blades. If someone with a pair of scissors took a snip, the dress would come tumbling down. We both look hot, if I do say so myself.
    “Looking good, Ms. Fairchild,” the bouncer says as we strut past him. “Knock ’em dead, Ms. Archer.”
    “This is why I love Damien,” Jamie says as we move down the exclusive hallway. “He hires staff that know how to properly suck up.”
    I laugh as we reach the door that opens onto the public area of the club. Ryan emerges from the shadows to join us. He nods politely, but I see just