Page 82 of The Picasso Heist
“I guess you can take your pick,” I say.
“I intend to.” He points for me to sit, not in the chair facing his desk but on his casting couch against the far wall. That figures.
I remain standing.
“If Jacinda wrote that in my file, she’s wrong,” I say. “I never lied about my name. I legally changed it to Graham.”
“I know you did. But we’ll get to that in a second. Now, please,” he says, pointing again at his couch.
As soon as I sit, he walks over from his desk and sits in the armchair catty-corner to me, his bended knees only inches from mine. I can smell his mouthwash and cologne, a nauseating combo of mint and musk.
“I know you’re curious about Bergamo,” I say.
“Curious?No. Tonight when I go to dinner at Le Bernardin, I’ll be curious about what the specials are. Bergamo is a member of Echelon who just made the single largest auction purchase in our history, and now he’s being investigated by the FBI,” he says, jaw tightening. I can see the tendons in his neck. “Believe me, I’m a little more thancurious.”
It’s as if I’ve flipped a switch inside him. Or maybe this was his plan all along—simmering anger that builds into a rage.
“I understand,” I say.
“Do you? Because it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way. You have an obligation to Echelon. You have an obligation to me.”
“I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”
“To whom did you promise that? The FBI?”
“What am I supposed to do? They said not to talk about the investigation with anyone.”
“Of course they said that. But they didn’t make you sign anything, did they? More important, they’re not the ones who sign your paycheck,” he says. “Or maybe you’d prefer to stop getting one.”
“That’s really not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. But you already know that, Halston Greer. Why else would you try to hide from your past, from who you really are?”
If looks could kill, he’d be dead. “Leave my family out of this,” I say. “And I told you, I didn’t lie about my name.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did. What I care about is loyalty. That’s what got you promoted,” he says. “I’d hate to see it be the reason you get fired.”
“Lucky for you, you don’t have to,” I tell him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
CHAPTER71
THE FEELING ISfleeting.
The joy of saying “I quit” to Smarmy disappears almost as fast as I storm out of his office.
It’s strange. I needed a way to extract myself from Echelon after being promoted, and it all but fell into my lap. Problem solved. Smarmy going through my file was a gift. The moment he invoked my family and made it personal, my revised exit strategy was born. I should be happy.
Instead, I’m too busy being angry.
At Smarmy? Hell no. He’s not worth it.
The elevator opens on the HR floor, and I make a beeline for Jacinda’s office, blowing right by her assistant, Amanda, who doesn’t even finish saying “You can’t go in there” before I barge through Jacinda’s door.
She’s at her desk on the phone. “What the hell—”
“Hang up,” I say.
