Page 80 of Love Her

“Are they getting paid more than me?” She made a show of looking over her shoulders, and then returned her attention to me. “Those fuckers. Do they have a 401k?”

I laughed. “No. You know you’re the only hacker for me.”

“That’s so old school, Rhaim,” she said, laying a pained hand on her chest. “I’m an asset mobility consultant, who also helps with behavioral finance reallocation,” she said. I grinned—and she gasped, looking down at the table, where I’d finished one entire coffee with her as she ate, unlike my usual gulp-and-go. “Oh fuck—is this you saying some sort of weird good-bye?” She saw my face, and then groaned. “It is!”

I took the bag she’d given me, and rolled it into a more manly bundle that I could tuck under one arm. “If I blow it, and I go down, I’m not taking you with me.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “If you were really so concerned about that, you’d be giving me all your bank financials right now. Just for safe keeping.”

“You mean you haven’t figured out my mother’s maiden name yet?” I said, standing up and offering her a hand.

She refused to take it. “That Rivian is not paid off. I wasn’t expecting our relationship to evolve—and frankly most of my other clients are boring as fuck.”

“I’m going to take that like the compliment it is—although if this whole thing works,” I said, meaningfully shifting the bag beneath my arm. “Boring sounds pretty fucking good.”

Sable also stood—she was just two inches shorter than me, now back to her casual gear and her typical combat boots. “Come here you stupid fucking man,” she said, and hugged me.

I froze in complete surprise—but recovered in time to briefly hug her back. “Should I check my pockets for vape pens?”

She made a disparaging sound. “I’ve been in your phone for years now. But for you, I hack with love—talk to you this evening,” she said, waving me off, as she turned on her heel to walk away.

46

LIA

Iwas inside the elevator to my father’s office ninety minutes later on the dot, and got out to find Rio waiting for me and my father—still in a suit, but also wrapped in blankets—on his couch, watching the news.

Which was about me.

“Don’t you want to watch something national, instead?” I asked jokingly.

Rio gave me a nod, as I walked up, and my father pointed in the direction of his bar. “Pour yourself something—I’m sure you need it.”

While I could resist the siren song of Enzo’s Ativan…I didn’t want to raw dog the rest of this conversation with him, so a vodka tonic felt appropriate.

I mixed my drink and tossed my bag with a new dress in it across the back of the couch before sitting down.

“How’s it going?” I asked him.

He turned off the television and swiveled his head my direction. “Badly.”

I nodded, and took a measured sip. “I don’t suppose anyone called up to cancel my engagement?” I asked, with feigned optimism.

“No—but—Lia—if this was your idea,” he said, giving me a grave look. “It didn’t have to be.”

I blinked. “You…think that I did that?” I asked, pointing at the blank TV screen.

His silence spoke volumes.

“You’re kidding me,” I said, rearing back. “Why on earth would I trumpet my psych history to the entire world?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You were unhappy?—”

“Dad!” I snapped—and then realized that he wasn’t my actual father. Not really.

Did he know that?

“You’ve made some rash decisions in the past is all,” he went on, defending himself.

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