CHAPTER 71

JORDAN.

THE MORE MELANIE TALKED, THE TENSER I GOT.

Like the day hadn't started on a bad enough foot, now Taylor had somehow gotten her hand on something that could lead the police straight to us.

I hated when they poked around in my business, dreaded the thought of them finding anything that could tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

“We can't let the authorities find out you're working for me. They could start sniffing around my business. They could even put a hold on operations”.

The possibilities tumbled around in my head and I closed my eyes. Don't panic.

“Wow, your concern for me is really evident. You're so sweet”, I heard Melanie say drily. I opened my eyes, unaware I'd started drumming my fingers on the sofa as I pushed down the negative thoughts.

It was a technique that had helped over the years; don't think about the ways something can go wrong, think only about how they can go right. If you allow room for doubt, you already have an 80% chance of success as opposed to a hundred.

“Even if we manage to get her to delete it, how do we know who has or hasn't seen the photo?” I asked.

Melanie bit her bottom lip, “That’s why we don't just need her to delete it, we need to get access to her phone. There's gotta be a list of viewers or something. I don't know!”, frustration tinged her voice.

I blew out a breath then took out my phone, pulling up Taylor's number. I winced inwardly at the number of times she'd tried to contact me previously and tapped the call button. After a few rings, she picked up.

“Hey Jordie bear,” she said sultrily, involuntarily conjuring up images of all the positions I knew she could bend in.

I shook my head. “Taylor, where are you?”

The sound of water in the background as she splashed around answered but she still spoke.

“Somewhere around the house, wet and mostly naked,” she said, injecting the right amount of tease into her voice.

I wasn't stupid; I knew any other man would be crawling on his hands and knees to her right now, but I wasn't any other man.

Somewhere along the line she'd lost her appeal to me and besides, I had more urgent matters to see to.

“I need you to give me your phone”, I deadpanned.

She laughed lightly, “Sorry, what? I didn't hear anything after ‘I need you’. Come get me.”

Patience wasn't a virtue I possessed in large quantities and I was fast running out.

“Your phone, Taylor!”, I enunciated.

I sensed her mood change over the phone and she scoffed. “So she went running to you like a little baby. What does she think you're going to do to me?”

I moved away from Melanie's inquisitive gaze and paced towards the kitchen area.

“I don't care about that. I just need your phone”, I replied.

She made an annoyed sound. “Would the both of you relax? It's just a freaking photo!”

“If it's just a freaking photo then why do you refuse to delete it?” I asked calmly.

“Because it bothered her, and I like watching her squirm. She's trying to take you away from me”, was her response.

I swore silently, wondering at the amount of stupidity that had taken over me when I agreed to let her stay here.

Even if I hadn't turned her away, I could've put her in a guest house. I could've assigned a random driver to take her there, not Melanie. This was why I rarely let my decisions be governed by something as fickle and gullible as sentiment; they always turned out to be a mess.

“I am not a commodity to be gotten or taken away, Taylor, and I'm quite capable of making my own decisions. The phone?”, I had used up the last of my patience.

“Why is it so important? You know what? No, I will not delete it, and I sure as hell won't give you my phone. Fuck off”, she snapped and hung up.

“I’m guessing that didn't go well”, Melanie remarked as I lowered my phone, the audacity of Taylor hanging up on me producing an emotion akin to disbelief within me.

“She said no” I summarized, walking back to where she stood.

“Of course she did, the psychotic bitch!” Melanie muttered and kicked a sofa.

“Since the direct way isn't going to work, what else can we do?” I asked.

Melanie sat down and from the way her brow furrowed I could tell she was thinking hard. I smothered the urge to smooth out the furrows and buried my hands in my pocket, toying with the Swiss coin.

“She clearly likes you. You could act all nice and charming– though I doubt you possess such qualities– get past her guard, and get rid of it” , Melanie said.

That idea held all the appeal of sardines to me.

“Or you could get closer to her. Apologize for how you started off and suck up. She'd be suspicious at first, but then she'd be too smug at turning you into her lapdog to care”, I threw back and she grimaced. I guess it didn't appeal to her either.

“I could just do what I do best and steal it, although it is so glued to her hand all the time I doubt it would work. We could hire a hacker”, she suggested.

I shook my head, “I’m not involving another person who could get curious as to why we need to hack her social media, find out information and then use it to blackmail us.”

I subconsciously noted how we'd both taken to using plurals since we started this conversation. We. Us.

“Fair enough. We could stage a mugging when she goes out, disable the location setting, do what we need to do. She comes crying to you, and you help her ‘find’ it and boom, you're back in her good books. No one would be any wiser”, Melanie said.

I could see why she's escaped from custody all these years.

I shook my head again, “You’re involving other people again. Besides, I do not care whether or not I'm in her good books. Her phone could ‘accidentally’ fall and crack or be pushed into water. We could blame it on that devil pet of yours. Many apologies, we offer to fix it, and do what needs to be done. Then we'll hand it back to her and make up some excuse as to why the entire phone is wiped”, I offered.

The whole situation was beginning to stress me out so I began rubbing at my temple.

Melanie gave me a sharp look at the mention of her cat but nodded.

“Smarter to delete everything than just one to avoid suspicion. It can't be too soon or else she would smell a rat. And I would still have to start acting nice to her”, she groaned and flopped back on the sofa. “This sucks”, she said and I had to agree.

“Do we agree on that?” I asked. She pressed her fingers to her eyes but nodded.

“There’s no way to tell whether anyone threatening has seen it or not. At this very moment, Interpol could be arranging an op to take me down. I'm a sitting duck here, Jordan.”

She was right, again. We had to get her out of there because she was a way too easy target at the moment. My mind traveled to the situation with Perkins and I smirked.

“Ever been to Paris?”