Page 44 of Blackmail
A throbbing starts in my head. “We’ll figure something else out. We’ll start setting shit on fire and turning over rocks until we find something.”
Lehman shakes his head. “I know this is a sensitive topic for you, but…” The wheels in his head are turning. He’s got his hands on his hips the way he stands when he’s gearing up for a fight or we’re dealing with a difficult client.
His rebuttal is clear because I already know the facts: the money, the clients who’ve jumped ship. Paying a paramilitary investigation team each time someone disappears isn’t sustainable. None of that matters to me if we stand by and do nothing. I stand and come around the desk, ready to stand my ground.
“You can’t save everybody,” Lehman says quietly. “And you don’t need to keep paying penance for who your father was.”
“I—”
Then there’s a hesitant knock at the door. “Bas? There’s someone here to see you. I know it’s late. He’s insisting it’s urgent.”
“Jesus fuck, lady, stop looking at me like I’m some kind of lying-ass criminal. And for God’s sake, get that mole on your neck checked out. There’s a great dermatologist in Lake County. Slice that thing right off for ya.”
I know who I’m going to see before the door bursts open. I’d recognize that mix of superiority and sarcastic unsolicited medical advice anywhere.
“Simon, what are you doing here? You could have called.”
“Yeah, I tried the numbers you gave Christian. One went straight to voicemail, and then this one”—he gestures at Abigail—“told me you were too busy to take calls.”
My assistant looks as if she’s never wanted to strangle anyone more in her life. “Do you want me to call security?”
“No need.” I focus back on Simon. “I could have gone home for the day.”
“No, you couldn’t have. Jacob told me you work more than his stepfather. I’m not thrilled about being here, but I needed to talk to you.”
I raise an expectant eyebrow, but he only glances back and forth between Lehman and my assistant.
Fine. “Give us a minute,” I say.
Lehman nods. “I’m going to head out. It’s late. Nothing more we can do tonight.” He gives me a pointed look.
I give him one back. “Set up another meeting with the team.”
“I’ll call from the car.”
He exits, but my assistant seems to hesitate. “Abbie. It’s fine. Go.”
When we’re finally alone, Simon says the last thing I expect him to. “Cookie?” He holds up what looks like a miniature pizza box.
I shake my head. “What?”
“I walked here from work. Passed this cool little bakery called Midnight Cookies. I guess they stay open late for all the bar crawlers who might have a case of drunk munchies. Got one of each flavor to try them out. Birthday cake, chocolate chunk, tahini, and double fudge.”
He laughs at the last one and holds out the box, which got rained on a little.
“They’ve all got a bite missing.”
“You’ve had your mouth on my dick but sharing food I’ve bitten is where it gets weird for you?”
I take him in. He looks significantly more casual than the last time I saw him. He’s wearing a hoodie and what look like medical scrubs, but they’re covered in pink flamingos.
I study the silly looking flamingo scrubs and then return to the box of cookies. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Believe me, I try not to. But.” He clears his throat. “I’m here for a serious reason.”
“Somehow I didn’t think it was because you’d suddenly decided you wanted me to fuck you again. Particularly since you did tell my assistant it was urgent.”
Simon grins. “Trust me, if I wanted you to fuck me again, it would be urgent.”
