Jeff led the way to a pink plastic chair and stood behind it to tuck Thomas beneath the tall table.
Thomas rolled his eyes and went over, muttering beneath his breath. Scott pulled up a chair beside him, offering a reassuring smile, but Thomas just glared.
“You have thirty minutes, then you have to walk home,” Thomas mumbled.
“Home?” Jeff asked.
Thomas squeezed his eyes shut. “I meantback. You have to walk back.”
Scott told Jeff about the balloon shoot while he worked, and Thomas seemed to relax after Jeff congratulated him on playing Scott for a fool.
“And how is your cute bubble butt now?” Jeff asked.
“Getting better.” Scott shifted in his seat. “Still a little sore in certain positions.”
Jeff smirked, shaking his head. “I still want to kick it, though.”
Scott leaned back. “What?”
“You heard me. I want to kick your cute bubble butt.”
“Why?”
Jeff blew out a breath. “What do you mean, why?”
Scott blinked. He glanced at Thomas for help, whose eyes hadn’t left him, but he looked uninvested in the conversation. Scott was pretty sure he’d zoned out.
Jeff sighed. “If you needed money, you only had to ask.”
Scott’s breath caught.
“I would’ve leant it to you,” Jeff whispered. “And so would’ve Zara. She was so upset when you got sent down, upset and furious, and I felt the same. Blackmailing a politician, Scott, I mean, seriously?”
“It wasn’t my finest idea.”
“And he wasn’t even one of the hot ones.”
“Are there any hot ones?” Thomas asked.
Jeff shook his head. “It was stupid.” He looked at Thomas. “Did you know Scott did time?”
“Yes,” Thomas replied. “I did it with him. We’re ex-cellmates.”
“Turned real mates, aww.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Did you tell him he was stupid for what he did?”
Thomas shrugged. “I don’t need to tell him; he reads it off my face.”
“How much did you need anyway?” Jeff asked.
Scott pressed his lips in a firm line.
Thomas ran his gaze up and down Scott before replying, “I’m guessing about £100,000…”
“£100,000! Christ, Scott!” Jeff flung himself into the table to lean closer. “What are you involved in?”
