Chapter Three

"You got a second, honey?"

Allie glanced up at her dad's voice, smiling at the sight of him in her doorway. He grinned brightly, running a hand over his dark slicked-back hair, and motioned toward her office to silently ask permission to enter. Seeing as how he'd just merged with his biggest competition and successfully absorbed that business into his own only a few days ago, he didn't really need to ask permission to do anything around here, but she appreciated the gesture.

"Sure, Dad. What's up?"

Jimmy shrugged a little too easily for her liking as he ventured deeper inside her office. His eyes grazed over the clean walls and their sparse, but tasteful, office decor with amusement flickering across his features. He believed every wall in the studio should be decorated with their myriad of award-winning movie posters and trophy cases abound. Allie didn't quite agree.

While she'd been around her dad's line of work in some shape or form just about her entire life, she didn't necessarily feel the need to flaunt it the way he did.

"I just wanted to touch base with you about some plans for the party this week."

Allie blew out a sigh but smiled at him anyway, shuffling some of the new actors' contracts on her desk. All this paperwork wasn't going to finish itself, but she couldn't exactly tell her dad no. He tended to run just about everything by her when it came to the business, and she didn't want him to think she was ungrateful or didn't have the time to listen.

"I don't remember party planning being part of my job description, but okay."

Jimmy laughed, sinking down into the chair across from her and gestured to the stack of contracts in her hand. "Everything goin' okay on that end?"

She just lifted a shoulder and tossed the stack on top of the pile on her already cluttered desk. "Pretty much. I'm still waiting for a few of them to sign on the dotted line, but other than that, no problems."

After the merger between Sweet Productions and Cara Cara - now owned by Samcro - was finalized, the next order of business was to send all twenty of Luann's actors their new contracts with the studio as well as signing on the crew members Jimmy had decided to keep. Then she'd dove headfirst into the steaming pile of mess Luann had left in her wake. While she'd made herself available for the inevitable questions about their new contracts, Allie had advised every single one of the new actors to retain their own attorneys to look over everything line by line. It never failed to amaze her how many of them chose not to take that advice.

"Well, that's good news. The sooner we get them all under contract and get their tests cleared, the sooner we can put them to work."

"I have to say I was a little surprised Luann took the club up on their offer," Allie shrugged. "I figured she would've cut and run as soon as the ink dried."

"Money is money," Jimmy shook his head with a laugh - she knew he couldn't really believe it either. Luann had actually just sent over her own new contract outlining her writing and directing duties at the studio, while also completely cutting her out of any business and financial decisions. Luann hadn't hesitated, but part of her wondered if this was going to make for some awkward situations about the studio.

"Anyway," Jimmy shifted gears with a wave of his hand. He opened his mouth to continue just as Allie's phone pinged on her desk. "You can get that if you need to, Allie."

She glanced at her phone with a frown, and when she saw who was texting, her heart dropped into her stomach. Her dad, however, didn't miss a beat.

"What is it?"

Allie swallowed quickly, tossing the phone further away from her, and just shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Allie."

She glanced back up at Jimmy, who was watching her with pained disappointment. "It's not -"

"Yes, it is," he cut in firmly. "How many times do we need to have this discussion, honey? You are not her keeper. She is not your responsibility."

Tears stung her eyes, and she had to swallow back any denial she might've given him. He was right, of course. She wasn't her mother's keeper. Her mom wasn't her responsibility. Allie knew it definitely wasn't a good thing the texts were becoming more frequent, but what was she supposed to do?

"How much did she ask for this time?"

Allie glanced at her phone again, gulped a little, and lied, "$200."

Jimmy didn't hesitate, immediately digging through his back pocket. He pulled out a money clip, flipped over a few bills, and then reached out to hand them to her. Allie wavered, trying to decide if it was really worth the effort to try to fight him on this - after all, he was still $400 short, even if he didn't know it. She never asked exactly what it was her mom spent the money on. Sometimes, she guessed it was for rent. Other times, she was pretty sure it was to pay off whatever debt she'd racked up that week or that month. Most of the time, she was 100 percent sure it was for drugs. And pretty much all the time, she knew she was better off just not knowing.

Still, when her mom texted and asked for money, Allie gave it to her. So, she grabbed the bills from Jimmy's waiting fingertips and balled them up into her fist.

"Allie," Jimmy murmured softly, almost as if he was approaching a caged animal. "You can't keep doing this. All you're doing is letting her know she always has a safety net. You're not helping her."

Allie nodded on reflex. She knew that. Of course she did. She'd tried to talk herself out of handing over money so many times she'd lost count. But at the end of the day, every time they met for a handoff was the only time Allie actually got to see her mom with her own eyes, to make sure she was still eating, to make sure she was still standing, and to make sure she was still breathing. Even just thinking about what would happen if the texts stopped, about what that might mean...no, she couldn't do that.

"I know," she told him anyway.

Jimmy didn't look any more convinced than she felt, but he seemed to sense they were due for a palate cleanser and nodded slowly. "So. The party. I'm trying to decide about the food...I'm thinking maybe sushi or fondue, or maybe even having a few tables of both. What do you think?"

"Wow," Allie laughed, grateful for the subject change. "I think sushi and fondue are a little above and beyond the expectations for this little merger party, especially given who most of the guests are."

"Yeah, well," he just shrugged. "I wanna show our new employees and our new business partners that, well, we mean business and we're serious about making this work."

"That's fair, but I think all you really need is a good supply of beer, wings, and pizza and Samcro will be good to go."

And to be fair, that was also the exact dinner menu at Opie and Lyla's wedding reception, so Allie figured they'd approve.

Jimmy let out a long, defeated sigh. "Alright, alright. I suppose you know them better than I do anyway -"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Well," he shrugged. "You know what I mean. I guess I'll just have to settle for a table or two of sushi and maybe some finger food for our side, and then put up a nice spread of beer, wings, and pizza."

Of course, Jimmy said all that looking a little green - he was known for lavish, over the top parties that would make Jay Gatsby jealous, and wouldn't be caught dead serving beer, wings, and pizza if he could help it.

"Thanks for your input," he smiled, putting his hands on his knees as he rose to leave. "I know that wasn't in your job description, but it was helpful all the same. You know, it also doesn't say anywhere in your job description that you can only have one client either, just in case you weren't aware."

Allie threw him a long side-eye and shook her head. "Dad -"

"All I'm saying is that I wouldn't have a problem with you taking on another client. You've only ever done legal work for me, and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to expand your horizons a little and get some experience elsewhere, just as long as that experience doesn't lead you away from the studio, of course."

"Well, of course," she laughed.

"Like I said, Allie," Jimmy reminded her as he pulled open her office door to leave, his eyes dropping pointedly to the bills still balled up in her fist. "Money is money. There's nothing wrong with taking it."

He shot her one more reassuring grin before waving goodbye and shutting the door behind him. Jimmy was right, of course, but that didn't make it sting any less. The last thing she needed was him giving her permission to dance with the devil and take his money in the process.

Just as she was about to turn back to getting all the newly-signed contracts in order, her head shot up at another knock on the door.

Allie exhaled in frustration and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. She really needed to get back to work.

"Yeah?"

The door opened, with one of their brand new actors on the other end. Ima Tite was the exact sort of actress you might expect to see on film. Wearing only a red bra that basically pushed her breasts into her chin, a matching school-girl skirt, stripper heels, and her long blonde hair in pigtails, she'd obviously just been at a costume fitting. Or, at least, Allie hoped.

Ima also didn't look particularly happy. Actually, her heavily-lined eyes narrowed sharply as she sauntered deeper into the office. Their interactions had been few and far between, and given the little conversation they'd had, Allie had already made a mental note to herself to steer clear.

"Hi. What can I do for you?"

Ima's face contorted and she held up some papers in her hand. "What can you do for me? What you can do is explain to me why this contract says I have to work here for three years."

"Because those are the terms," Allie frowned, taken aback by Ima's animosity.

"Well, I didn't know that!" Ima shrieked, and Allie winced from the impact. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have fucking signed it!"

Allie exhaled slowly and inhaled again to keep herself calm and collected. Meeting Ima at her level wasn't going to help anything and it definitely wasn't going to make her feel any better about it when it was all said and done. Still, she was in no mood for this shit.

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

If looks could kill, she'd be dead right now.

"Are you kidding me?" Ima snarled. "This is all your fault. You gave me that contract -"

"That I told you to have your own attorney review," Allie reminded her calmly.

Ima's eyes narrowed dangerously into tiny slits. "I don't have an attorney."

"Well," Allie shrugged. "It's not my job to make sure you have your own representation. I don't see how this is my problem here."

At this point, she was just about done with this. She had a mountain of paperwork to sift through and she was lucky if she managed to leave the studio before 8:00 tonight. There just weren't enough hours in the day to deal with a self-important, ignorant porn star.

"Well," Ima perched a hand on her tiny hip and glared daggers at her. "It is your problem," then she held up the copy of her signed contract, "this...this is entrapment! You didn't tell me I'd have to sign up for three years. What the fuck is this shit? Sexual slavery?"

Allie reared back, momentarily stunned by the words sexual slavery and almost nearly as shocked that Ima knew the word entrapment. A beat later, she pounced, unable to stop the words that tumbled out of her mouth. "Last I checked, it's not the studio's responsibility to make sure you understand what you're signing before you sign it. You have eyes. You can read, right?"

Ima took a menacing step forward and jabbed a pointy nail right into Allie's chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look," Allie scrubbed a hand over her eyes and sighed. "I don't have time for this right now. Get yourself an attorney, have them call me after they've read through your contract, and then we can go from there."

Ima stared down at her like she'd just started speaking in pig Latin and even teetered a little on her sky-high heels. "What?"

And...she was officially done. Allie gestured to the door with her head and flashed Ima a grin. "You heard me. There's nothing left to say until you come back with an attorney."

Ima's eyes darkened before narrowing into bitter slits. Then she turned on her stripper heels and stalked out of the office.

***

"I swear I don't -"

Jax knifed an elbow in the guy's throat, pinning him even deeper against the wall. "You don't what?"

"I don't..." he choked out, but Jax just leaned in, putting more pressure into his throat. "I don't know. I don't know, okay? I don't know!"

"Bullshit, you don't know," Jax growled into his face.

"I don't!"

He felt a hand clasp around his shoulder to pull him back, but Jax wasn't ready to give in just yet. The dealer would crack - he had to. All he needed to do was keep the pressure on, maybe make him piss himself, and then he'd talk.

"Where the fuck is your supplier?"

"It's not -"

"Don't even think about lyin' to me," Jax murmured dangerously, applying just enough pressure on his throat to make his eyes roll back into his head.

"I swear I don't..." he gagged. "It's not Darby - there's no way. I haven't heard from that asshole since before he went inside Stockton. That was months ago!"

Jax blew out a deep breath and, feeling more pressure from the hand on his shoulder, shifted his elbow so the dealer could collapse to the ground. He spit on the floor just for good measure, narrowly missing the dealer's face.

Goddammit. Another dead end. Another missed opportunity.

We're never going to find him, a voice whispered. He's gone.

There had to be something else. Some other lead. Some other path they could take. The rest of his brothers fell in step behind him as they filed out of the dealer's apartment and headed back to the line of bikes waiting for them. When Juice tracked this guy down, Jax had been so sure this was the breakthrough they needed. So sure that this would finally give them some sort of direction.

By the time the club gathered at the table, the stress of the day's events was palpable around the room. They could all feel it. They were grasping at straws, pulling at tattered loose ends, and hoping something came out on the other end. In other words, things were pretty much fucked up beyond all recognition.

"I think it goes without saying we don't have a whole lot of options left here," Jax pushed out gruffly.

A round of nods passed around the table almost immediately. Jax took in the grim expressions on their faces, from one to the next, and he knew they weren't any more optimistic than he was.

Tig pounded his fists on the table, snarling in frustration. "I just don't get it - how can a fucker like Darby just disappear? How does someone like him do that?"

"Doesn't make any sense," Chibs nodded solemnly from across the table.

Darby obviously had friends in even lower places than they'd thought. There was just no trace of him anywhere, and at this point, they were lucky if he was even alive, let alone still in the country. If the club had to chase Darby to the furthest ends of the earth, they would do it, while exhausting every dollar they had in the process. And that was something Jax just couldn't stomach...not with the plans they had to finally turn the tide.

Jax's gaze dropped to Juice for a lifeline.

"I think it's time we start outsourcing our recon," Jax told him, and Juice nodded as if he'd been anticipating just that.

"I've been thinkin'," Juice folded his hands on top of the table and sighed deeply. "I know a guy who...well, his ex ran off with their kid. Damn near disappeared off the face of the earth, and he just about lost his mind trying to find them. He was pretty sure his kid was dead, if not the ex too, and I did everything I could think of to help him but couldn't nail them down for the life'a me. He hired this PI as a last resort, and I don't know exactly how he did it, what strings he pulled, but the PI found the ex and the kid - in one piece too - in less than two months. He tracked them all the way across the country and pinned them down right before they crossed the border to Canada."

Jax pulled his fingertips through the scruff on his chin in thought and glanced at Opie, who was watching Juice intently. When they locked eyes, Opie nodded in silent agreement. Hiring a private investigator didn't exactly sit well, but what other options did they really have at this point?

"You think you could get in contact with this PI?"

Juice lifted a shoulder. "I don't see why not. I mean, the guy's not gonna be cheap, but I don't know what else we can do. Darby just completely fell off the grid - and if I can't find him, there's no guarantee this PI can either, but still...maybe it's worth at least a conversation."

And if anything, Jax thought grimly, this will buy us some more time with Gemma.

Jax's eyes scanned the table and found unanimous agreement across the board. Like Juice said, maybe it was worth a shot. It wasn't like they had any other leads coming in with the help they were getting from their other charters and contacts.

"Alright," Jax nodded to Juice. "Make the contact - see if you can get an idea about how much this is gonna cost us, and set the meeting."

Juice dipped his head in acknowledgement, and Jax could already see the wheels in his head turning. He had no doubt Juice would get them all the information they needed, as well as set up a meeting as soon as he could get the PI into Charming. At this point, this might be the only real option they had left in finding Darby. And if this PI couldn't find him, maybe it would be time to finally admit they'd been chasing their tails for no reason.

Gemma would rain down a shitstorm of hellfire on them, but at least they could say they'd pulled every string and used every resource available. Eventually, Gemma would just have to accept what he already knew: they might never get the justice Clay deserved. Of course, for her, that was easier said than done.

He pounded the gavel, signalling church was adjourned for now, and filed out of the chapel with the rest of his brothers. Chibs clapped him on the shoulder in silent support, and he nodded. While he appreciated the gesture, it didn't really make him feel any better. He guessed it would take more than a whole bottle of Jack and a few croweaters in his bed, but that was just temporary relief. Under the glare of red morning light, everything would still be right where he left it.

Clay would still be dead. Gemma would still be crying herself to sleep. The club would still be picking up the broken pieces. His wife would still be waiting at home.

On that note, Jax sidled up to the bar in the clubhouse, grateful when a prospect silently put a cold beer in front of him. He pulled his prepay out of his cut only to find five missed calls and three text messages waiting for him.

Three of those missed calls were from Wendy.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

And the other two were from...Ima? What the hell was she calling him for? And better yet, whose ass did he have to beat for giving her his number? He scanned the text messages and pushed out a rough sigh.

When you are coming home tonight? I'll make dinner.

No, he didn't want dinner. He didn't want to go home either, and Wendy knew that.

And the other messages...It's an emergency! Call me right now!

"Jesus Christ," he exhaled.

Jax barely had a chance to snap his phone shut before Ima started blowing it up again. He rested both palms against the bartop, and his head dipped down in resignation. Today was just not his day. And it was clear the gash was just going to keep calling until he answered.

What had been one drunken mistake quickly devolved into the mistake that just wouldn't live and let die. Less than a week after they'd gotten out of Stockton, Jax had woken up one morning with a killer hangover and Ima Tite naked in his dorm at the clubhouse. He'd immediately regretted whatever poor decisions he'd made the night before that led him to that particular outcome.

After kicking her out of his bed, he'd also immediately taken about five hot showers to wash her off him and got tested two days later, and again after another month just to be damn sure.

And now, it seemed like she somehow thought that one night entitled her to not only his phone number, but for him to come running at her beck and call like she was someone to him.

Well, she was someone to him all right, just not the kind of someone she wanted to be.

When his phone buzzed again, he swore under his breath, and flipped it open.

"What?" Jax growled.

"Jax!" Ima practically shrieked on the other end and he winced, pulling the phone away from ear to lessen the impact.

"How did you get this number, Ima?"

That seemed to get her attention, and she stuttered for a few moments, caught off-guard and probably red-handed too. "Well...Luann gave it to me."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered and rubbed his eyes with a ringed hand. It looked like he was in for yet another painful conversation with Luann as soon as this shit was resolved.

"I told her what was goin' on and that I needed to talk to you and she gave me your number," Ima explained, but her voice was more whiny than anything. "I need your help, Jax! That stupid bitch made me sign a new contract and it's terrible! It's so terrible, Jax!"

Jax's lips curled in amusement as his initial irritation faded away, and he had to bite back a laugh. "A'ight. And what do you expect me to do about it?"

As he listened, his lips broke apart into a full-fledged grin. Well, this was unexpected. And very appealing, given that his only other option for distraction right now was drowning himself in whiskey. It was barely even 4:00, and he had a helluva lot more time to kill before he had to make any hard decisions about where he was sleeping tonight.

He could kill some time at the studio.

And, he thought cheerfully as he tossed his prepay back into his cut and headed for the exit, this could be fun.

***

Allie chewed on a french fry as she scanned the latest email to hit her inbox and sighed. Well, at least she'd had the foresight to order dinner a little early because she wasn't getting out of here anytime soon. Getting through this merger just might be the death of her. Cleaning up after the merger was more accurate, and she still had a ton of more hoops to jump through in order to mop up Luann's OSHA mess while protecting the assets Samcro had just become the proud owners of.

It wasn't like they exactly deserved the extra care she'd taken in making sure their investment was secure, but Allie didn't cut corners and she wasn't about to start now. Especially seeing as how she'd be at the mercy of a certain MC president if she messed up.

But she wasn't going to mess up, so it really didn't matter.

Just as she took a healthy bite out of her chicken caesar wrap, a loud knock rapped on her door. Allie squeezed her eyes shut with a wince. Why was it so hard to get any real work done around here? At this rate, she was going to end up passed out face down on her desk before she could even think about heading home.

She chewed quickly, somehow swallowing that bite without choking.

"Yeah?"

The door opened to reveal Ima on the other side - who still hadn't bothered to change since the last time they spoke - with Jax Teller standing next to her. The second their eyes met, Jax's lips slipped to the side in amusement. She hadn't even needed to see Ima standing there with her arms crossed sullenly over her chest to know what this was about.

"Seems like we gotta problem here, darlin'," Jax drawled easily, drawing his tattooed forearms across his chest as he spoke.

Allie didn't miss the way Ima's eyes widened at Jax referring to her as darlin', and not the other way around. Not that it mattered. It seemed as though Ima was looking to stir up more trouble, and Allie was happy to give it to her.

"I can see that," she replied casually. She flipped her to-go carton closed and gestured for them to have a seat.

"Didn't mean to interrupt your dinner," Jax told her as he dropped into one of the chairs across from her desk.

Allie flashed him a quick smile. "Sure, you didn't."

His head tilted lazily to the side, but that amused grin still hadn't left his face. Finally, Jax seemed to remember Ima was also in the office and he lifted his chin to her.

"Ima's told me some things about the new contract she said you made her sign," Jax threw out, his eyes darting expectantly to Allie, then to Ima, and back to Allie again.

It took a lot of strength to maintain this cool composure, but Allie wasn't about to let either of them win, especially since they were obviously in the wrong.

Allie held up a finger and leaned forward. "First of all, I didn't make you sign anything. And to be very clear, when I gave you your contract a week ago, I advised you to get your own representation and to have that representation go through everything with you before you signed. I also thought I told you to come back with an attorney," she gestured to Jax and the smile playing on his lips just spread even wider. "And I don't see another attorney in this room, do you?"

"Listen, bitch -"

Jax's head snapped in Ima's direction, effectively cutting off whatever she was about to say. In a flash, his blue eyes darkened in warning. She withered in her seat and after a beat, Jax's gaze fell to Allie again, this time with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Ima huffed angrily, drawing her arms across her chest. "I want the terms in my old contract."

"I'm sorry," Allie just shrugged. "You don't work for Luann anymore. You work for a legitimate business now with legitimate contracts."

"Three years is bullshit!" Ima shrieked, practically leaping out of her seat. "And I don't work for you," she jabbed a long-nailed finger at Allie, "I work for Jax!"

Jax's face scrunched up mock-confusion as he rested both elbows on the arms of his chair. "That's not really true, darlin'."

With the day she'd had - and was still having - it was all she could do to keep herself from reaching across her desk and ripping out Ima's bleached hair, one fried extension at a time. Part of her kind of wanted to reach over her desk and smack Jax across the face too, but that wouldn't settle this any faster.

"The club may own Cara Cara," Jax went on, his eyes still on Allie as he spoke. "But Sweet Productions has absorbed what's left of Cara Cara into its day-to-day operations, that includes all the actors too. So, you technically work for Jimmy Sweet now because he's gonna cut your paychecks, not us."

Ima's mouth opened to respond, but it shut just as quickly.

"Look," Allie told her calmly. "The studio is not liable for your inability to follow advice, and it's certainly not liable for your inability to read a contract before you sign it."

While her gaze locked on Ima, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jax draw his folded hands up against his mouth as if he was trying to muffle a laugh.

"But," she exhaled exasperatedly. "Had you actually read your contract before you signed it, you would've found that while yes, three years does seem like a long time - and by all accounts in this industry, it is - we reward you for your willingness to commit to three years instead of one by giving you a higher cut of the profits from each of your films. So, while yes, you're committing to a longer employment term than you would with other studios, you're also making more money in the long run."

Ima's dark eyebrows shot into her forehead. Allie just shook her head - so it was exactly what she'd thought. Ima had only read far enough to see the term-length she'd inadvertently agreed to, lost her mind, and went running to Jax for rescue. She dared a glance at him, only to find him watching her with that same smirk twisting his lips.

It was clear he hadn't shown up here today to help Ima win any arguments. He'd come for a show, and he was getting one.

"And, had you read your contract before you signed it, you would've seen that it holds our studio accountable for all safety and testing procedures - and that it clearly states our responsibilities to you, as the performer, to make sure that you're completely safe in every situation you may be in on our sets. We're one of the only studios within a hundred mile radius that does this because it's definitely a risk - there's only so much we can really control - but we do it because we believe it's our responsibility, as your employer, to keep you healthy and safe. And I think we all know how Luann felt about that at Cara Cara."

This time, Jax ran a thumb across his mouth to hide his smile. Ima, for her part, sat stunned in her seat.

"So, really, you've got two options. You honor the terms of the contract you signed, and then in three years, we re-evaluate. Or, if you really want to be let out of the contract and try your luck at some other studio, you forfeit your signing bonus and you walk away."

Ima's mouth dropped open in shock. "My signing bonus? What the fuck?"

"It's in the contract," Allie shrugged and shook her head with an exasperated laugh. "I don't know what else to tell you."

Allie looked to Jax for confirmation that this could all be done now, and he just lifted a shoulder. Ima, however, wasn't finished.

"Well, ya know what?" Ima sneered, jabbing another pointed finger at Allie. "I'm not doin' either of those things. You can just go fuck off!"

Jax's hand shot out to push Ima back in her chair, and he didn't give her the opportunity to protest. He wagged a ringed finger at her - long gone was that ever-present amusement and in its place was the lethal glare of an MC president.

"Watch your fuckin' mouth," Jax growled lowly.

"I'm not doing shit, Jax. This is -"

"You know," Allie cut in coolly. "I would love to go fuck off if it meant you took your bad attitude elsewhere. And, of course, then I'd also see you in court."

"What?" Ima screeched.

"Yeah," she laughed as she leaned forward on her desk. "If you walk out of here without fulfilling the terms of your contract, that means I get to sue you."

Allie flashed her a grin for good measure as Ima's mouth open and closed, sputtering in disbelief. Just as Ima started to push out of her chair to make a run at Allie, a tattooed forearm shot out to hold her in place.

"Allllright, ladies," Jax murmured smoothly. "I think you've both made yourselves pretty clear here," he pressed Ima a little deeper into the chair and shot her a pointed look, "Seems like you've got a few choices here: you do your time, you give up your bonus and walk, or you go to court."

Ima jerked her shoulder out of Jax's grip and shot to her feet. "You can just..."

She trailed off shakily as Jax just cocked an eyebrow at her, daring her to finish that sentence. For the first time since Allie met her, Ima showed a flicker of intelligence. Instead of saying another word, she straightened her tiny school-girl skirt and stalked out of the office, slamming the door in her wake.

Jax's head turned just long enough to see the door shut before turning back to Allie, yet another amused smirk curving around his lips. "Well, that was fun."

"I guess you and I have very different definitions of fun."

He huffed out a laugh with a shake of his head. "What, that's not how things went down with your sorority sisters whenever you had pillow fights in your underwear?"

Allie laughed, despite the fact that she was pretty surprised he remembered she'd ever actually been in a sorority, and despite the fact that even such a casual mention of that particular time in her life sent a little shiver down her spine.

And in light of the day she'd had, she couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of her mouth: "Oh, no. There were definitely pillow fights, but none of us were wearing underwear."

Jax's eyebrows bounced into his forehead, his blue eyes glittering with amusement, and Allie instantly regretted her words.

Still, Jax cocked his head to the side, as if he was appraising her with new eyes. "That why they kicked you out?"

"Is that what you heard?" she laughed and shook her head, pushing down the dull ache in the back of her throat. "I'm surprised you knew that."

He just lifted a shoulder. "You'd be surprised what I know, darlin'."

Allie narrowed her eyes at him, and he held up both hands in surrender with a laugh.

"Tell me somethin'," Jax tipped his chin at her with an easy smile. "You really tell her she was stupid?"

"Who?" Allie frowned. "Ima?"

"Who else?"

She exhaled slowly, starting to feel like she was ready for him to shut the door behind him too. "I might have asked her if she could read," Allie allowed. "But I never said she was stupid."

"Ah," Jax nodded knowingly. "I can see where she might've made that mistake."

"Sure."

Now he was leaning forward in his chair with both elbows on his knees. "You sure you don't wanna rethink the club's offer? 'Cuz after what I just saw..." he trailed off with a shit-eating grin. "Hell, I'd pay you whatever you want for the chance to get to see that every day."

And once again, the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Well, considering all the extra work I'm doing for you right now..."

She trailed off, her eyes wide and once again immediately regretting her words.

Jax's eyebrows knitted into his forehead and he cocked his head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shit, shit, shit.

Well, she thought to herself. It's official. I'm an idiot.

She hadn't meant to let that slip - honestly, she'd never planned on Jax or the club catching wind of the state Luann had left their newly-acquired assets in because she was handling it. There was nothing they could do about it because they would've needed an attorney to help them anyway. What difference did it make if they knew about it or not? And now, because she was tired and irritated and clearly not thinking straight, she'd just blown it all apart.

At this point, there was nothing she could do but tell him the truth, and so she gestured to the mess of paperwork scattered around her desk. His eyes dropped to the clutter and then dipped back to her in confusion.

"I've been putting in..." she lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, "Fourteen, sometimes 16-hour days to clean up Luann's mess in time for when the cameras start rolling."

And once again, his eyebrows bounced into his forehead in surprise. "Clean up Luann's mess?"

"Yeah."

He cocked an eyebrow her way. "Care to elaborate, Allie?"

She swallowed tightly. For some reason, his choice to use her actual name, rather than anything else, in this exact moment set her reeling. And when she finally found her footing again, that old familiar irritation flared.

"Luann left behind a considerable HR mess with her lack of disclosure about our safety concerns," Allie informed him coolly. "Not to mention the 20-plus OSHA inquiries to deal with, regulation filings due to the industry's guild that Luann hasn't done in three years, arranging testing for all the new actors and monitoring the results...someone needs to take care of all that otherwise all those assets Luann signed away to you don't have any actual value."

He eyed her carefully, almost diplomatically, like part of him was impressed by her work ethic and the other part of him wanted to scream at her for not telling him all this sooner. And here he'd obviously thought the deal was signed, sealed, and delivered without anyone having to lift another finger. That the club could just sit back and collect their cut without anyone having to do anymore work.

"So lemme me make sure I have all this straight," he folded his arms calmly across his chest as he spoke. "You've been workin' your ass off over here to get Cara Cara back in shape, not telling us this was goin' on and not letting us hire you because...what?"

"Someone had to do it," Allie could only shrug. "The work isn't going to finish itself, and it was the right thing to do."

She didn't know what else she was supposed to say, but she didn't like the way he was looking at her right now, so she added: "And if this fails, if it's not sorted out...the club can walk away and find another investment elsewhere. My dad's reputation would never recover."

Jax nodded slowly, scrubbed both hands over his thighs, and then shot to his feet. He dug a hand into his back pocket before unearthing his wallet and flipping some bills from it.

"How much you charge an hour then?"

Allie held out a frantic hand, rising from her chair just as he tossed a few bills onto her desk. "No, Jax, that's not what I meant. I was just...I don't want your money. I don't want the club's money. I would've had to do this if Luann was still involved anyway and -"

"I heard you loud and clear," Jax murmured lowly. He tossed a few more bills onto her desk just to prove his point.

This was the second time a man had thrown money at her today, and this time was even more aggravating than the first. Screaming at him that she didn't need his money wouldn't help, so she scooped up the bills with one hand and shoved them in his leather-covered chest.

"Take it back. You don't have to pay me."

His hand covered hers for a split second, and she jerked her hand back as if she'd been burned.

"Maybe I want to. Maybe your time and your experience is worth something to me, and maybe," Jax told her, his lips curling back into a tight snarl, "I don't want anything for free. The club is tryin' to run legitimate businesses in legitimate ways and that means not cuttin' corners and not lettin' our new business partner run his lawyer into the ground by bailing us out when we didn't even know we were in trouble in the first place. If you're puttin' that kind of work in for the club, we're gonna pay you to do it."

Allie opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. He had a point. For once, she couldn't really argue. But that didn't mean she was willing to take his money either.

"I don't work for you. I work for my dad. And this is work I would've done for him anyway, regardless of who ended up with Cara Cara. I'm not taking your money, Jax."

He stared at her defiantly. Then he tossed the money she'd just shoved at him back onto her desk without his gaze leaving hers. Without anything else to do, Allie just shook her head, completely exasperated and done with this day. But there was one other order of business they needed to discuss, if this was how he wanted to play it.

"You know," Allie murmured tightly. "The next time an actor calls you with a complaint -"

"You mean there's gonna be a next time?"

She had to take a deep breath before she could let herself respond. "If there's a next time, you need to talk to me first before running to the rescue."

Jax's eyebrows danced into his forehead, but this time, he didn't look so amused. "That what you think happened?"

"Yeah," she shot back. "I had it handled. I was handling it."

"Sure, you were," Jax drawled, shoving his hands in his front pockets and leaning back on his heels. "And just so we're clear, the next time I hear about anything that needs the club's attention around here, I will handle it however I see fit. That being said, if you ever keep anything like that from me again, you and I are gonna have some serious problems."

"I didn't tell you," she told him firmly. "Because it didn't matter. Everything is in the process of being straightened out and it was never going to affect the way you get your cut or how often you get it. If it was, I would've told you."

Jax's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Doesn't make it right, Allie."

She stood her ground, unwilling to give him an inch. "You know, I think it's probably for the best if we keep our communications about the studio to either email or phone calls."

"And why is that?"

She just shrugged. "I think it would create a...difficult working environment if we had to do it any other way."

Jax didn't waver, instead, his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. "Darlin', I'd eat you alive if I could."

Her fingertips itched to slap him right across the face. Instead, she just glared back at him with her chest heaving. They stared at each other for another long beat, neither one willing to give up the little traction they'd gained. Finally, Allie gestured with her head to the exit.

"Well, the door is behind you," she waved a hand toward it. "Why don't you use it."

Jax dipped his head back ever so slightly, his eyes trailing up and down the length of her with as much animosity as something else she couldn't quite place churning in his dark expression. He tapped two fingers to his temple in a faux-salute and headed for the door.

"It's been a pleasure," he told her with that stupid smirk curving up the side of his mouth. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

With that, he pulled the door open and shut it behind him.

Allie stared at the door for too long, teetering between wanting to scream bloody murder, cry her eyes out, or throw something right at the spot where he'd just been standing. She opted to sit back down, take a deep breath, and then got back to work instead.