Page 39 of Taming Tesla

Con grins at me, levering the bottle in his hand over my glass to give me another pour. “Nobody’s perfect,” he says before lifting the bottle to his mouth. “Not even you, Cap’n.”

I laugh, a short burst of ugly sound that burns my throat. “Suspenders?” I give him a look, starting at his shiny wingtips and ending it on his loosely knotted tie, the cuffs of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, his tattoos at total odds with the white-collar look he’s got going.

“Oh, shit. I forgot.,” he says, jerking the knot in the tie all the way loose. “Huddle up, team. Dec—bring some glasses.” He looks at Tess. “Grab my jacket, Tessie? I’ll pay you in sweet, sweet lovin’.”

Tess makes a gagging noise as she lifts his jacket from the hook near his booth. “You’ll pay me in pancakes, perv.”

As soon as we’re all gathered around the foot of the stairs, Con hands the bottle of whiskey to Tess. “Don’t be stingy,” he says, while she pours and Declan hands out glasses.

“So, surprise, surprise—I did not have the security footage Jackson Howard promised me by the end of the day, yesterday.” Digging a pair of small manila envelopes from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, Con holds them out. One for me. One for Cari. “What I did have was a request for a private meeting at his office—don’t open that yet,” he says, wagging a finger in Cari’s face when she slips a finger under the flap. “When I get there, Howard tells me that he’s so very sorry but that he can’t turn over the security footage because there was a malfunction with the cameras on Templeton’s floor—”

“That son of a bitch,” Tess belts out, tiny fists balled up into fists. “I’m gonna find that asshole and flay his balls with a—”

Before she can finish, Con leans over and taps the tip of her nose with his finger. “Has anyone ever told you how completely adorable you are when you talk about torturing corporate scum?”

“Get on with it,” Declan grumbles. At the sound of his voice, Shad yowls at Declan’s feet, and he bends over to pick her up. The cat stops yowling and starts purring, rubbing her face against Dec’s stubbled chin while he coos at her. “There’s my girl… did she miss me?”

Tess glares at the pair of them like she’s been betrayed. “Put my cat down.”

“Make me,” Declan says without sparing her so much as a glance, the biggest six-year-old I’ve ever seen.

Tess makes a sound like she’s being strangled and takes a step toward him. Con catches her by hooking his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, hauling her back. “Anyway.” Con rolls his eyes. “He can’t give me the footage.” He smiles. “But I tell him, that’s okay because as a precaution, I took the liberty of remotely installing a motion-activated camera on Templeton’s computer that’ll record sixty-seconds of video every time the computer is accessed, before the video’s release.”

Reaching into his breast pocket, Conner pulls out a stack of still-frame photographs. “You will never guess who I caught using James’s computer. At 3:57 AM, yesterday morning—” He holds the pictures out of reach. “Okay, you’ll probably guess.”

I grab the pictures out of his hand. They’re all of Sara.

I knew she did it, she all but admitted it, but it still sucks to see the proof right in front of me. I pass the photos to Cari, and she takes them.

“You obtained these illegally,” she says. Her voice is scratchy. Throat tender from where James throttled her. Hearing it makes me wish I’d killed him. “They're inadmissible.”

“Well, well, well—look who watches CourTV.” Con took the pictures from her to flip through them, admiring his handy work. “But you’re right. That’s why I didn’t use them to file a lawsuit. I used them to settle one.”

“What did you do?” Declan says, wary.

Con divides a grin between the four of us. “I blackmailed his ass.”

Beside him, Tess claps her hands like a kid on Christmas morning. “I change my mind—adulting is fun.”

“You what?” I feel my jaw unhinge.

“I. Black. Mailed. Him.” Con says it slowly. “Which brings me to your door prizes.” He motions toward the envelope in my hand. “Open it.”

I rip my envelope open and pull out the slip of paper tucked inside.

No. Not a slip of paper. A check.

“Oh, my god.” Beside me, Cari stares at the check in her hand, the other pressed against her gaping mouth. “Does this say one million dollars?”

“It sure the fuck does.” Conner beams, like extorting one of the most powerful men in Boston for two million dollars is his crowning achievement. “And don’t get your panties in a twist,” he says, looking at his brother. “It’s all legal-ish. Once I showed him my evidence and explained how WikiLeaks works, he was more than willing to settle out of court.”

Declan laughs. “You sneaky little shit,” he says, almost in awe.

“Well,” Con’s smile sharpens slightly, gaze darting toward Tess before refocusing on his brother. “Don’t be too impressed—I got the peeping tom idea from you.”

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