Once he lets go, I stick my index finger in his face. “The woman traffics kids. You okay with that?”
“Not my problem and it sure as hell isn’t yours. Let someone else deal with them.”
“And what about Selena?”
“Dump her or don’t. I don’t give a flying fuck. As of now, you no longer work for Patten Securities. I’m through fixing your screw ups.” He storms off to the lobby, nods at the shocked guard, and bangs the elevator button mercilessly.
After he’s gone, Sam shuts her wide-open jaw. “Holy shit. His performance deserves an Oscar.”
Grinning, I brush off my jeans. “You should see him when he’s really pissed off. Do you think it worked?”
She glances out at the street. “I don’t know how they could’ve missed it.”
“Good. Hopefully, it’ll take some heat off Patten. We can’t afford to lose those DC jobs.” As I help her put on her coat, the folks in the coffee shop give us a wide berth. All bundled up, I lead her outside where the wind funnels through the tall buildings of Fifth Avenue. With our breath making vapors, papers and dirt circle around our heads and her hair whips across her face.
I pull up her hood and tie it under her chin. “Love you, babe.”
“Love you, too, tough guy. Are you sure the scene back there was necessary?” With an arm around my waist, she lowers her head, and braces for the next gust of cold air.
“Sure. Aren’t you?” Not wanting to tarry, I rush us toward the big yellow arrow pointing toward a driveway.
“To be honest, I’m a little worried what might happen without Patten Securities backing us up.” Once we’re out of the elements, she takes my hand and jogs to keep up with me as we descend to the parking attendant’s station where Chrissy waits with her hands in her pockets.
It’s not until we’re driving out of the city, do I respond to Sam’s concern. “Don’t worry. If we need him, Slate will come.”
Sam keeps her eyes glued to the back and as we exit onto the FDR, she curses. “You were right. They’re following us.”
Changing lanes and slowing down, I glance out my side window. “Is it the same vehicle who witnessed our one act play?”
“Yeah. We should’ve offered them popcorn.”
Chrissy’s mouth turns down and her brows crease. “Aren’t you going to at least try to lose them?”
“Mebbe later. First, I am going to annoy the fuck out of them.” Spying a city bus, I squeeze in front of it. With the traffic bumper-to-bumper, they’ll have to pull behind and breathe in diesel fumes for miles.
Laughing, Sam puts her Samsung to her ear. “Hey Rose. I’m just checking on the furballs. Really? Okay… great… Is next week good? Mmm. I know, I know. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
I glance over when she pats my knee. “Apparently, the two have teamed up.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, Chloe threw up in my cousin’s Louboutin’s and while she was cleaning the expensive leather, Catrina head-butted the food container, tipped it over, and spilled kibbles all over the floor. Then, they both pigged out and puked some more.”
“Diversional tactics. Pretty advanced for the feline brain.”
“Cats are vastly under-estimated. Their ultimate-goal is world domination.” Laughing, Sam tells Chrissy all about our cat’s tendency to cause trouble.
Once we’re out of the city’s heavy traffic, the teenager asks about our other cases. She’s especially fascinated how her lawyer married the famous country singer, Sienna. “I remember, now. I read about them online. Her bass player, Calvin, isn’t he the one who was electrocuted on stage?”
Sam nods, her face dead serious. “The Case of Fried Cal.”
With my wife telling tall tales, they giggle all the way to Philadelphia. In the suburbs, I cross three lanes of traffic, almost miss the exit, and park in a pre-designated lot where we switch vehicles.
While I start up the rust bucket, Sam has the Google lady direct me back to the freeway. After a few miles of checking my rear-view mirror, I glance over at her.
“Any sign of our tail?”
“Nope. We lost them.”
