I shake my head. “We had pizza yesterday. Tonight, I’m cooking real food. Chicken okay with you? I’m a liability with red meat and getting a thirteen-year-old to eat seafood is like herding cats.”
DirtyGurl laughs that sweet, low laugh and this time it shoots to my balls. Maybe I wrote off any attraction to her too early. “Chicken’s great.”
“Seven-thirty?”
She nods and waggles her fingers. I fish the phone I use to call Logan and Manny out of my shorts pocket, unlock it, and let her put in her details. Theo follows the phone with his eyes as she passes it back to me and I make quick work of locking it and stuffing it in my pocket. Realizing I’ve caught his interest readies me for his next question.
“Remind me, who are you?” Theo asks.
“Max,” I say, carefully avoiding giving him my full name. “Logan and I were in the Navy together. I’ve known him for a long time.”
Theo nods and, apparently, dismisses me, which works for me. I make a mental note to tell Logan and Manny not to mention me to Theo. I’m not afraid of cops knowing who I am, but I don’t go looking for their attention, either. Most cops lump hackers into one category—blackhats—and put us in the same place as burglars and pickpockets in their mental inventory.
Theo and Mr. Upper West Side start talking about something I don’t follow and DirtyGurl winks at me. I don’t know if she read my tension at Theo’s sudden interest. I wouldn’t put it past her; she seems very observant. She’s not acting pally with him. For someone who “owns” her ass until tomorrow night, she hasn’t touched him, gotten close to him, or even spoken to him beyondpleasantries. I know I don’t understand the whole dominance and submission thing yet, but this seems well-outside what I’d expect from people who have had sex with each other.
My train of thought is interrupted by the arrival of Laurel Radford’s fiancée, Jiro. In tracking down Rick’s stalker, I’ve done some pretty thorough background checking into both Laurel and Jiro and decided they’re good people. I was sure Laurel wasn’t Rick’s stalker, just based on her email and internet use, long before Logan was able to get her on the phone. He’s a bigger believer in personality than I am; people lie to your face all the time. Their digital footprint? Much harder to fake.
DirtyGurl immediately slides up out of her seat to make a drink for Jiro. It’s almost automatic with her and leaves me scratching my chin, because she seems like the kind of girl who would stomp on your instep if you held a door open for her. It’s not a gender-role thing. It’s weirder than that. I file it away to ask her about tonight.
Jiro sits at the corner of the table, effectively blocking Theo from me, and ignores the donuts. “Did you sleep well?” he asks me. “I hope we didn’t keep you up.”
“Like a baby,” I say, although that’s not close to the truth thanks to my anxiety and Emily’s damn cat. “Didn’t hear a thing.”
Which is the truth. If they were boning away across the hall, I didn’t hear them.
Jiro rubs his fingertips over his forehead. “Good. Logan told me belatedly that the rooms are not soundproofed. I’ve been trying not to disturb anyone since then.”
I’d ask what he’s doing that would disturb everyone but having had an interesting time perusing the porn on Laurel’s personal laptop, I have a pretty good idea. Their preferred sex is hella rough.
DirtyGurl brings Jiro the tea he’s asked for and sits down just when Logan’s footsteps sound across the hardwood floor. No sign of Emily yet. DirtyGurl doesn’t rise as Logan passes the table. Isn’t she going to get him a drink? Logan snags a donut and continues into the kitchen.
I guess she’s not. Another thing to ask her about over dinner.
Theo snarks at Logan and he grunts back. Logan emailed me a few days ago to say that we were turning everything we found over to the NYPD, showing Theo every courtesy. He wanted me to scrub everything I sent him so there was no trace of me, but otherwise, complete transparency. I wonder what’s changed.
Theo tells Logan that he’s got Rick’s manager in custody and is working on a warrant. Logan asks where she might have gotten ketamine and DirtyGurl pipes up, knowing more about where to get narcotics than I’d expected. More and more layers to this girl.
I catch Logan’s eye and nod, letting him know I’m more than happy to go hunting through Glory’s accounts to see what I can find. He shakes his head and I wonder again what’s happened beyond Rick giving him a one-two to the face. Maybe that’s finally convinced Logan that we shouldn’t be doing anything to help the scumbag. I’m on board with that.
As Theo’s asking Lo if he wants to press charges against Rick-the-Dick, Emily patters in. Logan draws her onto his lap.
“Daddy, is that a donut?” Emmy asks.
There’s that word again. Glad I’m sitting down and the table’s concealing my lap.
Logan and Emily banter back and forth over his donut; I sneak a hand under the table to adjust myself. Between DirtyGurl and Emmy, I need to be somewhere else. A hard game of basketball will get my dick under control.
I drag my head out of my libido in time to hear Mr. Upper West Side order DirtyGurl upstairs, presumably for more sex,while his place at the table is taken by the older woman who looks like she wants to mother Logan to death. However, when Jiro offers her the chance to share Laurel, she goes upstairs with him.
Shaking my head, I watch them go.
“I seriously need to come to this club of yours,” I say to Logan. “Everyone gets laid.”
Theo chuckles and I’m reminded that he “owns” DirtyGurl’s ass for another thirty-six hours. I wasn’t jealous before, but I am now. It’s really time to go.
“See what you think of the playgroup on Sunday first,” Logan says. “No point jumping into the deep end before you’ve learned to paddle.”
“Dom water-wings,” Emily says, with a little lilt to her voice, which gets her a tickling from Logan.
