His Strict Requirement: Billionaire Secrets - Book Five by Drew Sinclair Page B

Lindsay Day back in grad school. They had taken media and journalism classes together and she had always been a rule breaker even then. He had always been the worrier, the uptight one and he had always known she didn’t go for guys like him. It had pained him throughout college to watch her go from one irresponsible boyfriend to the next while he waited, hoping that one day she would wake up and see the good thing that was sitting right in front of her nose.
    Five years after graduation and one short lived marriage and divorce later it had seemed like things were somehow coming full circle when he had been in a position to offer her a job with his new start up interactive news website. It was the only way he could think of to bring her back into his life, messed up as it was, but now it had come to this in the end. He was firing her.
    Way to go Marco. Smooth as ever. He berated himself.
    She still hadn't said a word.
    "Did you hear me Lindsay?"
    "I heard you." She half whispered. She looked stunned, but how could she have not known this was coming?
    I'm sorry Lindsay. Truly, but that's the way it is. I warned you this was your last chance and you let me down again."
    Now it was Lindsay's turn to drop her eyes in shame. He was right. Her goofy friend from college had made good and put some trust in her and she had screwed it all up for both of them and for Nena as well.
    "It's okay Marco. It's me who should be sorry. Look, I won’t make this any harder for you than it already is, but I swear to you, if give me just one last chance at this I promise you I can come up with all the evidence we need."
    Marco shook his head.
    "Is this supposed to be making it easier for me Lindsay?"
    "Okay, Marco, look, go ahead and fire me, that's fine, but you can't stop me working this story and when I have what we need--"
    "No. Lindsay, Jesus Christ, can't you just let it go?"
    "Marco, I know you don’t believe me--"
    "I didn’t say that, I just don’t have the means to back you up on this one. Those guys are barracudas, they'll chew us up if we don’t have solid evidence. I'm all for taking these guys down, and I will, but right now you don't have squat."
    "I'll get the evidence. I'll get documents, I'll get photos, I'll get video, I'll even get sworn on-the-record statements, the whole deal, but all I need is a little more time."
    "And money. You would need money too."
    "Okay, yes. And money. I might need a little."
    "Then you need a job."
    "Take me on as a freelancer and pay my expenses. Just until I can break this story. I swear to you this involves government, the mob, famous playboy billionaires, the hi-tech and security industries, government contracts, false imprisonment, hostages, kidnapping and possibly multiple homicides."
    Marco sat up, concerned.
    "Did you see people get killed?"
    "No, nothing like that, but Boyevik and his guys have disappeared off the face of the earth again. It's the missing piece of the puzzle, the part that Dale refused to share with me."
    "So you're telling me that Mayweather and the Hargraves executed these Mafia guys for screwing with their girlfriends?"
    "I'm saying that I don’t know what happened to them but that I will definitely find out and it that it won’t take me a long time to do it."
    Marco sat staring at her. He was a very good looking man in his own way. Tall, but not massive like Dale, more of a Johnny Depp style pretty boy than the rugged, powerful beast that Dale Hargrave was. He drummed his delicate fingers on the desk.
    "Does it involve you screwing Hargrave again to get pry secrets out of him?"
    The image that flashed through Lindsay's mind was like a brush fire in July. She almost felt that massive, powerful body crushing against her, surging upwards from below as she pressed down on him. Fuck, the experience would be worth having for a whole lot less than a business and career saving story, but still it would be using him in a way that she couldn’t condone.
    Not to mention