Page 25 of Rake

A ripple of…something…runs through me, thinking about Sasha back at my place with her bruised neck and sprained ankle as I make the offer to Bridget.

Bridget’s face lights up as she slips into her coat and picks up her gear. I’m twelve years older than she is, and I feel the heaviness of that in this moment. I take her gear bag from her and drape it over my shoulder. When we get outside, she catches my arm and threads her arm through.

“Are you going to the gala on Thursday?” she asks.

It’s for the investors. I have to go. “I am.”

Her arm tightens around mine as we hit an icy patch of ground. The sidewalk is all brick here. It looks interesting, but it’s not at all functional. As the mortar decays, ice settles in, pushing the bricks further apart. It’s uneven and more hazard than anything else.

“Yay, good.” She chatters on gleefully about what she’s going to wear and whose cute sons could be there. As if I’ll let anyone get close to her. It makes me think of how someone should have protected Sasha’s mother from her terrible father. When we get to the studio, I hand her her bag.

“Can someone walk you back?” I ask. “I’ll be gone by the time you’re out.”

She pouts again. “Already? You’re not staying for dinner?”

Decidedly not.

“No, but I’ll see you on Thursday at the latest. Ask Rory to get you.”

Rory’s my youngest brother. He and Bridget are close.

“Okay,” she says. “See you Thursday.”

I pat her hand, and she rushes inside to dance. Seeing her was a little gift before having to deal with our father.

I’m back to the Carney compound in minutes and knock on his office door. He only makes me wait about fifteen seconds this time.

“Well?” he asks.

“You’re getting served,” I say, casually. “Monday. Thought you’d like to know.”

“Goddamnit,” he hisses. “Great job fixing things, Finn, as usual!”

I’d known about this issue for less than a week, while he knew for six months, and yet somehow this is my fault.

“I’m working on it. Sasha, the organizer—she’s at my apartment now.”

My father is all too familiar with my prowess with women. A smug smile crosses his face.

“I went to visit her family,” I continue. “She has a little brother she’s close to. Would do anything for him. I’ve asked her for the names of our staff who started the process. The NLRB can hold an election if they want, but if our staff can be convinced to vote no, this will all go away.”

My father folds his arms over his chest.

“It’d better, Finn. I can’t exactly fire everyone and start from scratch. We don’t have the funds for that, and I don’t need any more bad press. We’re already under scrutiny by the gaming commission for fixing the slots.”

“Are we?” I ask.

“That’s between me and Callan. Make her come with you to the gala on Thursday, Finn. I want all of the staff to see her on your arm. Give them second thoughts about trusting her.”

Perfect. I’d spend the weekend getting to know her, one way or another, and then take her to the gala and seal the deal.

“My pleasure,” I say, letting the double entendre settle between us.

My father laughs. “I’m going to call the lawyers to see what else I can do in the meantime.”

I take that as the dismissal it is. I manage to get back to my car without running into my mother. That’s always a blessing.

It seems like I have things well in hand, and then I get a text message from Sasha that makes my blood boil.

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