“Chris here got a so-called ‘tip’”, interjected Lauren scornfully, using air quotes to emphasize her last word. “Some local told him that this bar was one of the happening places in town. Unfortunately, the only things happening were bad 80’s music and cheap booze. Not to mention some really skanky women, including the one Christina chose to hit on. The one who happened to have The Hulk’s twin brother as a boyfriend.”

Chris had the good graces to appear chagrined. “Hey, honestly, all I did was say something like “How ya doing, babe”. Next thing I know this huge guy is headed my way with a knuckle sandwich.”

Ben pointed his finger in turn at Lauren and then Chris. “I thought I made it clear that I only wanted to hear Karl’s version of this mess. Which is quickly starting to sound a lot more like a clusterfuck. So you two – keep it zipped unless I tell you otherwise. Got it?”

Chris nodded, while Lauren muttered sarcastically, “Yes, sir”, which only gained her another very dark glare from Ben. He directed his gaze back to Karl expectantly.

“Not a hell of a lot more to add,” said Karl. “This guy is starting to wail on Chris, so I tried to pull him off and got three cracked ribs for my efforts. Then the Kung-Fu Kid here decided to try and take him out with a head butt, which only resulted in pissing the guy off more and Her Majesty bruising her pretty little forehead. Meanwhile, some of The Hulk’s friends looked like they wanted to join in the fray, so Lauren pulled out her secret weapon. Literally.”

Ben shut his eyes, massaging his temples as though a blinding headache had suddenly come over him. “And what would this secret weapon be?” he asked as though in pain. “Please don’t tell me she flashed her boobs at them.”

“Good God, no!” denied Lauren vehemently. “I’m not an idiot, Ben. There’s no way I’d incite a riot by showing off the goods to a bunch of strange, drunk men. This is the weapon Karl was talking about.”

Quick as a flash, she pulled a wicked looking knife from the inside of her black leather riding boots and held it out proudly for Ben’s slack-jawed inspection.

“Never leave home without it,” she declared. “Best birthday present a fifteen year old girl could ever ask for – a Microtech OTF Scarab. My Uncle Mal gave it to me – in secret, of course, because my mom would not have been cool with it.”

Ben stared at the automatic switchblade as though it was a live grenade Lauren held in her hand instead. “That looks – lethal. And illegal.”

She waved a hand in dismissal. “Military issue, but easy enough to come by. I’ve used this little sweetheart to filet fish, cut rope, kill some really disgusting spiders, open boxes, you name it. It’s come in handy on too many occasions to count.”

Ben ran a hand over his face as he visibly struggled for control. “And you thought one of those occasions ought to be threatening – what, three, four guys – in a bar in a foreign country with it? Just tell me you didn’t actually cut anyone with it.”

“She didn’t, Ben,” assured Karl quickly. “Just the sight of it was enough for those guys – uh, probably more like six or seven by that time – to back off. And it bought us just enough time to get the hell out of there before the bouncer arrived. Lauren saved our asses once again.”

“Again?” Ben’s voice was crackling with anger by now. “So you three make it a habit to get in bar fights, do you?”

“No, no.” Karl shook his head in fierce denial. “That’s not what I meant. Not exactly. I mean, there have been a few times when – ah, hell, I’m just making it worse, aren’t I?” he muttered in disgust.

George chose that moment to enter the conference room, still looking decidedly green around the gills. He got a glimpse of the greasy, half-eaten breakfast sandwich that Chris had been taking small, tentative bites from given his swollen lip, and shuddered before taking a seat at the opposite end of the table.

Ben arched a brow at the visibly queasy producer. “Your crew members have just been filling me in about their, ah, adventures in Dubrovnik. But what I haven’t learned yet is exactly where you were when all of the action was happening.”

George’s pasty complexion quickly changed shades as he flushed bright red in embarrassment. “I, uh, was sort of there when it first began but, um, then I - ”

Lauren gave George a look of disdain. “But Georgina here ate a little too much of the local cuisine, and his apparently sensitive tummy wasn’t feeling so hot as a result. And when he saw a little blood – well, someone had to dash to the little boy’s room to puke his guts out. He finally caught up with us back at the hotel.”

“Christ.” Ben blew out a breath before surging to his feet and crooking a finger at Lauren. “You. In my office. Now.”

“Hey, why me?” she whined. “Chris was the one who started it by hitting on that skank. And may I say his poor taste in drinking establishments is only exceeded by that in women. Oh, and let’s not forget - ”

“Lauren!”

Ben’s uncharacteristic bellow caused four startled gazes to look his way. He was almost shaking with anger as he walked over to the door and wrenched it open. “Now, the rest of you. Don’t move. This won’t take long and then we can finally get on with this wrap-up meeting. And you.” He pointed a finger at George. “Go get some tea or ginger ale or a bucket, but whatever you do don’t throw up in here. Chris, get a goddamned ice pack on that lip. And eye. Karl - ” he threw up his hands in surrender. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Lauren had never seen Ben this angry or upset before – hell, had never seen him this way. But as he grabbed her arm and practically dragged her down the hallway to his office, she could almost see steam rising out of his ears. And when he slammed his office door shut behind them, for once in her life she didn’t dare say a word.

Ben rested a hip on the edge of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded her somberly for long seconds. Lauren stubbornly refused to look away, standing her ground, and silently sending him the message that he was going to have to do a lot more than glower to intimidate her.

“I know now what your problem is,” he finally said in an exasperated tone. “Your parents and the other adults in your life tried so hard to help you deal with your ADHD that none of them ever dared to try some good old-fashioned discipline. And so help me God, I have never laid a hand on a woman in my life, but I’m this close to putting you over my knee and spanking your ass until you finally learn how to behave like an adult.”

She gasped in outrage, and strode forward until she was right in front of him, angry dark blue eyes meeting furious moss green ones. “You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed. “And dream on if you think you’ve got a chance in hell to - ”

Lauren gave a yelp as Ben unexpectedly grabbed her arm and hauled her across his lap until her denim covered ass was sticking straight up into the air. She wriggled fiercely, trying to free herself, but the arm he used to hold her in place was like an iron bar.

“I’d dare,” he told her darkly. “And you’re not the only one with some dirty street fighting tricks. Guess I forgot to mention that I took my martial arts training back up a few years ago, so every trick you know I’m betting I do, too. Now, are you going to be a good girl and listen to what I have to say for once, or do you want a sore ass in addition to that bruise on your forehead?”

“Fine,” she griped. “I’ll listen. And if you even think of spanking me, I swear I’ll bite you.”

She determinedly ignored the heat of his body beneath her, how her boobs were being squashed against his hard, muscular thighs. Her face was just about even with his crotch, and she couldn’t resist the naughty urge to glance slightly to her right. Lauren bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling with some sort of twisted satisfaction, because it was rather obvious from the burgeoning swell behind his zipper that he was quickly becoming as aroused as she was at the close proximity of their bodies.