Desperate Measures (Men in Uniform #1) Read online

  Desperate Measures

  by

  Sasha Jayne Moretti

  ASIN: B01MSSZPUF

  DESPERATE MEASURES

  Copyright © 2017 by Sasha Jayne Moretti

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission from the publisher, Naughty Girl Books P.O. Box 857, Arnold, MD 21012.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Summary

  After earning an Oscar nomination for her indie film, Sloane Ardent has become the Cinderella story of the awards season. All she needs now is a beautiful gown to make her belle of the ball. When the hottest designer in town offers to create the perfect dress for her, she jumps at the chance to work with him. But Julian has a dark side, and after weeks of dealing with his antics, she makes a split-second decision that could ruin everything.

  Detective Matthew Weggman has a solid reputation within the Los Angeles PD for being hard-nosed and in control. But when he discovers Sloane in a compromising situation, instead of arresting her, he takes a different route—one outside his strict, black and white lines. Although their worlds couldn't be further apart, the attraction between them is undeniable. Now that he's had a taste of her, he doesn't want to let her go.

  After all, possession is nine-tenths of the law.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Two - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Three - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Four - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Five - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Six - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Seven - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Eight - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Nine - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Ten - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Eleven - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Thirteen - Officer Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Fourteen - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Fifteen - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Sixteen - Officer Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Seventeen - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Eighteen - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Nineteen - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter Twenty - Detective Matthew Weggman

  Chapter Twenty-One - Sloane Ardent

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter One - Sloane Ardent

  “Come on,” I said, rubbing my hand over his rail-thin bicep. “You have to show me.”

  Julian’s rooftop get-together of close friends had swelled to a who’s who of LA fashion. Models, designers, and several celebrities worked the room. The DJ was flown in from New York just to host his birthday party. Guests flocked around his booth because he was famous, but it was obvious he was also really talented. While the crowd cheered, I wished I was enjoying the party with them instead of standing here with him.

  He let out a bitter chuckle. “I don’t have to show you anything.”

  “Please,” I begged, in my most sultry tone. “I just want to take a peek.”

  When I stuck out my lower lip, he rolled his eyes. “I’m not leaving my fucking party just because you’re having a tantrum.”

  What a prick!

  I wasn’t being unreasonable. He’d cancelled our last two fittings and the Oscars were only two weeks away. It was imperative I looked stunning. I’d been nominated for best actress, along with my indie movie for best picture. All eyes had been on me for weeks. Paparazzi were parked outside of my bungalow, and followed me everywhere I went. And for the first time in my career, A-list directors were calling my agent requesting to meet with me. My career was soaring, and I couldn’t risk making any mistakes.

  I had to see that gown.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I ran my hand over his scrawny chest. “If you give me the keys, I’ll take a look and come right back.”

  Brushing my hand away, he replied, “Like I would ever trust you.”

  There seemed to be no end to his drama. He was lucky he had a career. If that washed up idiot actress hadn’t been caught on camera snorting cocaine in one of his dresses no one would even know who he was. But that was five years ago. Since then he’d become the go-to designer for young Hollywood. Every model in town would’ve traded their soul for the chance to walk the runway in one of his New York fashion shows. His designs were plastered all over entertainment television shows, internet blogs and magazine gossip columns.

  My stomach churned as I ran my fingers through his greasy hair. “I’ll only be gone an hour.”

  He paused.

  “Let’s say I decide to give you that key.” Making no attempt to conceal himself, he ran his hand over my bottom and squeezed my ass cheek. “What are you going to do for me?”

  I froze.

  Anyone with a camera phone could’ve seen him and sold the pictures to a tabloid. This wasn’t the kind of publicity I needed right before the big event. I had to stop this, but without offending him. If I embarrassed him, I’d never get the dress. I slowly moved his hand away, placing it on my lower back as I whispered in his ear, “Anything for you, Julian.”

  The words tasted like poison on my tongue.

  His eyes widened with delight, and I got a sinking feeling like I’d just opened Pandora’s Box. There was no telling what he would want in exchange for the key. He’d already had his hands all over my body during the first fitting when I was forced to take off all my clothes in front of him. I stood naked for a half hour while he took my measurements. The whole process should’ve taken ten minutes, but he used the other twenty minutes accidentally fondling my breasts and ass.

  But I couldn’t get upset about it now. I had to stay focused on seeing that gown. I couldn’t take the chance that he might cancel again.

  I watched as he pulled a plastic card and ring of keys out of his side pocket. “When you get in the elevator, slide this card through the keypad and press 4692. That will get you to my floor.” He held up a gold key. “This will get you into my office.”

  I nodded my head. “I swear, I’ll come right back.”

  As I was about to step away, he grabbed my arm. “Aren’t you curious about the fee for my key?”

  I cringed, but managed to hide it. “Yes.”

  With one arm still on my lower back, he pressed our bodies together. “After the party ends, a few close friends are staying for drinks.” His free hand ran up my thigh. “You’re going to be the star of a very intimate performance.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I replied, swallowing the bile in my throat.

  Sexual favors were pretty common in this town. I’d heard awful stories of things girls had done just to get a role. But regardless of the pressure, I’d never agree to anything. I just wouldn’t allow anyone to take advantage of me like that, not even if it cost me a big project. No job was worth sacrificing my self-respect, but what Julian had done to me came close to the line. His subtle touches made my skin crawl.

  His eyes settled on my cleavage. “It will be, sweetheart.”

  That
sleazy piece of shit. The dress had better be worth all the crap I’ve had to go through. He was lucky I hadn’t filed charges against him. If I wasn’t concerned about the negative publicity, I probably would’ve done it by now. I took the keys and card, and headed for the exit. “Be back soon.”

  “You have one hour, Sloane,” he shouted.

  Taking a quick glance over my shoulder, I gave him my best fake smile.

  ☬

  Julian’s driver took me to his office building. It was only a few blocks away, but I didn’t want to risk walking the streets alone. I’d lost the paparazzi on the way over to the party, and the last thing I needed was someone spotting me. They had every door attendant and valet in town on their payroll. I’d gotten to the point that I was no longer surprised by the lengths they’d go to just for a picture. Once, I even had one follow me into a public bathroom.

  They didn’t know the meaning of privacy.

  This indie movie had given me my big break. Before I got hired, I was just one of the millions that had come to this town with dreams of fame and fortune. But most actors never get their opportunity, and end up leaving broken-hearted. For that reason alone I’d never complained about the harassment. Yeah, I owed it to the studios to promote my projects, but I didn’t need middle-aged men rummaging through my trash looking for a juicy story.

  The driver opened my door.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” I said, accepting his hand as he helped me out of the car.

  As I was walking away, he replied, “I wasn’t instructed to wait for you.”

  This was just one more thing to add to my night from hell. “So you’re just going to leave me here?”

  He crossed his pudgy arms. “Last time I checked, Mr. Harkness pays my salary.”

  “Very well,” I said, handing him a fifty dollar bill. “Now I do.”

  Snatching the money out of my hand, he smiled, “I’ll be happy to wait right here for you, Ms. Ardent.”

  I gave him the one finger salute as I headed toward the building entrance.

  An elderly, white-haired man in a security uniform sat at the front desk in the lobby. He startled when I knocked. The buzzer sounded, and the door unlocked. I flashed Julian’s card, and he smiled as I passed by. Most of the lights in the hallway had been dimmed. I wasn’t surprised. It was nearly midnight on a Friday night. Besides the night-shift guard, the building was likely empty. Entering the elevator, I slid the card through the keypad and entered Julian’s code. The doors closed, and I pushed the button for the penthouse suite.

  Anticipation filled my belly.

  The elevator opened to a small corridor with only two doors. The one that belonged to Julian had a plaque on the door with his company logo. I used the gold key from his ring to unlock the door. As I stepped inside, the lights flicked on automatically. There was no lobby or reception desk. The room had an open air design with no separators between the work stations. Tables covered in design drawings lined the white walls. A row of mannequins crowded the center of the space, while fabric in every color was scattered throughout.

  I passed the staff bathrooms and a small kitchen as I made my way toward his private office. His workspace was easy to find; it was the only room that had a door. When I turned on the light, I first noticed all the design awards he’d won and pictures of him with famous celebrities he’d likely dressed. They adorned the wall behind his massive chestnut desk. He spared no expense in here. A fully stocked bar sat in the corner, along with a four-post bed that seemed out of place. I didn’t want to think about what had gone on in there.

  I opened the blinds that led to a private balcony with a beautiful view of the city skyline. When I turned away from the scenery, I noticed a mannequin beside his desk with a white sheet over it. A piece of paper had been pinned to it with my name on it. I rushed over to pull off the sheet and gasped. The black skirt looked like a floor-length tutu with a matching sequin tube top that would barely cover my breasts. It was the most god-awful thing I had ever seen. This wasn’t a gown worthy of the Oscars, it was meant for one of the hookers down the block.

  Don’t panic. I took slow breaths as I tried to prevent myself from hyperventilating. Okay, maybe it was one of those dresses that looked better once it was being worn. I stripped off my outfit and put it on. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I screamed. It was worse than I thought. This had to be some kind of joke. Photographers were going to go nuts when they saw this. I’d be on every magazine’s worst dress list, not to mention the star of this week’s Fashion Police.

  Waves of anger rippled through me. After all the money and ass kissing—and everything I had went through just to get the damn key—why had he done this to me? I was totally appalled and bitter and furious all at the same time. His arrogance and disgusting behavior was more than I could bear. In a fit of anger, I reached down and grabbed handfuls of the fabric. I ripped and tore at the layers until the skirt portion of the gown was shredded. When I was done, I went over to his desk and pushed stacks of files off the surface. Flying sheets of paper sailed onto the floor.

  I sat down in his chair and put my hands over my face. Tears welled in my eyes. What was I supposed to do? How would I find another designer to work with this close to the event? Everyone was booked. I glanced around the room. Even though my actions felt justified, I already regretted what I’d done. The dress was meant for me, but it was still his property. I shouldn’t have torn it. And I’ll never be able to get his desk organized. I had no idea where anything went.

  What was I going to do now?

  Chapter Two - Detective Matthew Weggman

  My shift had ended hours ago.

  I should’ve been in bed by now, but instead, I was in the middle of LA at midnight. I’d received an urgent message from an important informant. He requested we meet somewhere off the grid. I picked a high-end business park. The area was filled with office buildings surrounded by trees. By now they’d been empty for hours. When he arrived, he told me about an upcoming exchange between some local drug dealers and the Mexican cartel. The information would be very useful on a case our gang unit was working. I ended up giving him some cash, and sent him on his way.

  As I was heading back to my car, a silver limo came around the corner. Immediately I was curious. I watched as the driver parked in front of one of the buildings. A second later, his door opened. A man in a business suit made his way to the back of the vehicle, and held the door open as a red-headed woman stepped out. I was too far away to make out her face, but I didn’t miss the tight black skirt showing off her gorgeous ass. Or her four inch stilettos that made her legs go on for days. Damn, she had a body wet dreams were made of.

  Perfection.

  She was about to enter the building when she appeared to be in an argument with the driver. My suspicions heightened even further when she handed him cash. What had she paid him to do? I rubbed the back of my neck. Something about this whole situation wasn’t sitting right. Once she was inside, I made my way over to the driver. He was a pale, chubby man that looked to be in his late forties. I stood for a moment, expecting him to notice me, but he was totally immersed in a game on his cell. Leaning on the side of the limo, I tapped his window.

  “Excuse me,” I said, flashing my badge.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Officer, I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “Detective,” I corrected. “Can you tell me what you’re doing here?”

  “I’m just waiting for a client,” he replied, slipping his phone in his back pocket. “She had some business to take care of in the building.”

  In my experience, business done after midnight usually ended with people in handcuffs. From what I saw, she hadn’t looked like trouble. She couldn’t have been much more than one hundred and ten pounds, and she certainly wasn’t concealing anything in that tight outfit she wore. A high-priced hooker, perhaps? “Do you know what kind of business she has this late at night?”

  He got out of the car
, waving his meaty arms in front of him. “No one tells me the details, Sir. I’m just the driver.”

  I crossed my arms. “Who is she?”

  “You don’t recognize her?” He appeared genuinely surprised. “That’s Sloane Ardent.”

  The name sounded familiar, but I wasn’t big on the whole celebrity thing. “Does she have an office in this building?”

  The driver glanced toward the entrance, then back at me. He seemed a bit too nervous, like he was hiding something. “The penthouse suite belongs to my boss, Mr. Julian Harkness.”

  She was visiting an office that wasn’t hers after midnight on a Friday night? I sensed there was more to this story. “Is she meeting with him?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “He’s hosting his birthday party tonight only a few blocks away. Ms. Ardent is one of his guests.”

  It sounded like she might be retrieving something for him. The first thing that came to mind was drugs. Why else would she be here? There was no way to be sure without investigating further. I made my way toward the building. “I’ll give Ms. Ardent a ride back. You don’t have to wait around.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He wasted no time getting back into the driver’s seat. Before I’d reached the front entrance, he was gone. The security guard buzzed me in, and I approached his desk. “I’m looking for a red-headed woman who just went through here a few minutes ago.”

  The elderly guard nodded. “She’s in one of the penthouse suites.”

  “Have you ever seen her in this building before?” I asked sternly.

  “No, I would’ve remembered her.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “She’s got the kind of body a man doesn’t easily forget.”

  I agreed.

  “Is she in some kind of trouble?” he asked, with concern in his tone.

  “No, I just need to ask her a few questions.” He didn’t need to know any more than what I had told him.

  “Sure,” he replied, handing me a key. “I’ll program the elevator for you, and this will get you through the door.”