mirror of her vanity. When she saw it in the morning light, she could see that the green was nearly the exact same color as Zayn's eyes. For a moment, in the middle of what had been a truly terrible morning, she smiled.
“All right,” she said to herself.
She took the scarf off of the mirror and knotted it neatly around her neck. Instead of softening her look, it made her feel as if she was wearing armor. She was protected, even if Zayn wasn't there.
She was on her phone when she got to the garage. She had contacts all over town, and she used them now. Inside of ten minutes, she knew what she needed to know, and she roared toward the highway.
Across the street, Azim looked up, startled and chagrined. He pulled out after her, cursing her driving skills, but he still managed to flick the call button on his phone.
“Sheik Zayn, I have news.”
***
Peter Scholl was a man who liked his luxury, and on a lazy Saturday, he enjoyed going to an exclusive little spa that was held back from the real bustle of LA life. Leah had heard about the place before, and she knew that she would never be able to talk her way past the desk. However, she didn't have to. All she had to do was wait.
She was surprised by her own calm. She held her phone in one hand, glancing down at the pictures from time to time. He thought he could force her away. He thought she would be cowed by something that by all rights, she should have been extremely proud of.
He was going to have to think again.
He exited the spa's doors, looking as cheerful and self-satisfied as she had seen him look. It was all too easy to imagine the way that he had sent those photographs off to her with their demeaning message. It was too easy to imagine him looking at what he thought was a job well done and then going off for a well-deserved treat.
Leah didn't hesitate. She got out of her car and stalked toward him, reaching him just as he got to his car. He was taller than she was, and he jumped when he saw her closing in. Quickly, however, he covered with smarmy good cheer.
“Ah, Ms. Montgomery, what a pleasure to see you today.”
“It really isn't,” she said, an icy smile on her face. She could see the secret lasciviousness in his eyes, the way he thought she was destroyed pleasing him beyond all measure. He didn't know what she was thinking at all.
“I see you've received my message,” he said smoothly. “Some of my friends, you know, they're amazing photographers. I hate to see good talent go to waste.”
“I don't see attempted blackmail as a talent that needs to be cultivated,” she said bluntly.
She had the satisfaction of seeing his face crumple a little before he regained his composure.
“And yes, you heard right, I said attempted,” she said. Her voice was level, but she could hear the snarl in it.
“There's nothing illegal about those photographs,” he said defensively, and Leah laughed.
“Don't I know it,” she replied. “And that's why it's your government-given right to do whatever you want to do with them. Send them off. Send them to my employers. Send them to my cousins and my family. Send them to my friends. I don't care. I'm not backing down.”
“This will destroy your career,” Scholl said, sounding utterly dumbfounded. “Who's going to hire you if they know you slut around with your clients? If they think that you're just an extra thrown in for clients with exotic tastes?”
“Don't you understand yet?” Leah asked with disgust. “You lose this one, Scholl. You lose. I'm standing here, and I'm telling you that I'll see you in court on Monday. And you can beg and plead and bribe and do whatever you want, but any judge is going to see that you're wrong. And then you're going to suffer for it, because I'll be there, with my head held high, doing exactly my job. And you're going to lose.”
She had a moment of grim satisfaction as she could see the realization of what she was saying sink in. He understood that his plan had
“All right,” she said to herself.
She took the scarf off of the mirror and knotted it neatly around her neck. Instead of softening her look, it made her feel as if she was wearing armor. She was protected, even if Zayn wasn't there.
She was on her phone when she got to the garage. She had contacts all over town, and she used them now. Inside of ten minutes, she knew what she needed to know, and she roared toward the highway.
Across the street, Azim looked up, startled and chagrined. He pulled out after her, cursing her driving skills, but he still managed to flick the call button on his phone.
“Sheik Zayn, I have news.”
***
Peter Scholl was a man who liked his luxury, and on a lazy Saturday, he enjoyed going to an exclusive little spa that was held back from the real bustle of LA life. Leah had heard about the place before, and she knew that she would never be able to talk her way past the desk. However, she didn't have to. All she had to do was wait.
She was surprised by her own calm. She held her phone in one hand, glancing down at the pictures from time to time. He thought he could force her away. He thought she would be cowed by something that by all rights, she should have been extremely proud of.
He was going to have to think again.
He exited the spa's doors, looking as cheerful and self-satisfied as she had seen him look. It was all too easy to imagine the way that he had sent those photographs off to her with their demeaning message. It was too easy to imagine him looking at what he thought was a job well done and then going off for a well-deserved treat.
Leah didn't hesitate. She got out of her car and stalked toward him, reaching him just as he got to his car. He was taller than she was, and he jumped when he saw her closing in. Quickly, however, he covered with smarmy good cheer.
“Ah, Ms. Montgomery, what a pleasure to see you today.”
“It really isn't,” she said, an icy smile on her face. She could see the secret lasciviousness in his eyes, the way he thought she was destroyed pleasing him beyond all measure. He didn't know what she was thinking at all.
“I see you've received my message,” he said smoothly. “Some of my friends, you know, they're amazing photographers. I hate to see good talent go to waste.”
“I don't see attempted blackmail as a talent that needs to be cultivated,” she said bluntly.
She had the satisfaction of seeing his face crumple a little before he regained his composure.
“And yes, you heard right, I said attempted,” she said. Her voice was level, but she could hear the snarl in it.
“There's nothing illegal about those photographs,” he said defensively, and Leah laughed.
“Don't I know it,” she replied. “And that's why it's your government-given right to do whatever you want to do with them. Send them off. Send them to my employers. Send them to my cousins and my family. Send them to my friends. I don't care. I'm not backing down.”
“This will destroy your career,” Scholl said, sounding utterly dumbfounded. “Who's going to hire you if they know you slut around with your clients? If they think that you're just an extra thrown in for clients with exotic tastes?”
“Don't you understand yet?” Leah asked with disgust. “You lose this one, Scholl. You lose. I'm standing here, and I'm telling you that I'll see you in court on Monday. And you can beg and plead and bribe and do whatever you want, but any judge is going to see that you're wrong. And then you're going to suffer for it, because I'll be there, with my head held high, doing exactly my job. And you're going to lose.”
She had a moment of grim satisfaction as she could see the realization of what she was saying sink in. He understood that his plan had
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