“Sullivan?” he grunts, sounding out of breath like I’ve just interrupted his workout.
“Denver? Can you talk?”
There’s a muffle that sounds like a female’s voice, and despite myself, I smirk. The poor guy’s been assigned to Sinclair for months. But since the culprit who was sending Sinclair anonymous threats was caught and dealt with by the cops, and Neil was also ruled out as a threat, my father has removed Denver from being her bodyguard.
The guy’s probably making the most of having some of his freedom back.
“Yes,” he clips.
“Okay…” I exhale, tilting my head side to side, making it crack.
“What is it?”
“Tate,” I reply, her name rolling off my tongue with familiar ease. “Listen, can I count on your discretion?”
“You wouldn’t believe how good I am at keeping secrets,” Denver rasps.
I look over at Cliff, who’s folded up his paper, and is waiting patiently. “Good. Because what I need you to help me with isn’t exactly legal.”
“Don’t tell me any more until I get there. I’ll come to you now.”
“Thanks,” I clip, ending our call. I’ll be home before Denver gets there. And Cliff can take Tate to work. This isn’t a conversation I want to have in front of her.
I walk to the car and climb inside, nodding at Cliff. He pulls away without uttering a word. He knows I rarely want to talk after I’ve been here.
Bringing up another number, I hit call again, before realizing it’s the middle of the night in London.
“Beaufort,” he answers, sounding far too alert for me to have woken him up.
“Fairfax,” I greet back. “Am I interrupting something?”
He lets out a rich chuckle. “Nothing more than a guy struggling to sleep. Give me something new to focus on instead of trying to count sheep. You know that shit doesn’t work, right?”
“Try having an almost three-year-old that never stops moving, you’ll learn to fall asleep in five seconds flat if you ever get the chance.”
He chuckles again.
“Can you insure a record label?” I ask, cutting straight to it.
“What have you done now? This about that woman? Molly’s nanny?” Rafe drawls in amusement.
“Have you told Aurora how much youenjoywatching her vlog?” I counter, wishing I’d never mentioned Tate to Rafe. The guy doesn’t miss a thing.
“Fuck off.” Rafe snorts.
“In that case, don’t ask. Just tell me, can you do it? Or do I need to find someone else?”
“Course I can bloody well do it,” he replies with the sharpness in his tone that he only gets when he’s pissed.
My lips lift into a ghost of a smile. He’ll do it twice as fast now, just to prove his point. I know he will, because it’s exactly what I’d do in retaliation to a comment like that.
He knows I’ve played him. I’d never go anywhere else.
But I also know he won’t care.
Because Rafe and I are the same.
When it comes to getting what we want. It’s only the winning that matters.
