Cam beamed. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Good.”
Ramsey appeared then, doling out his usual smiles and charm, sprinkling them wherever he went, and next to them, Nate tensed. Didn’t frown, but looked clearly uncomfortable as Ramsey wound his way closer and closer, like he was skating in circles, narrowing down his final destination.
Dawson wondered if Aidan had talked to him yet. It was unclear if he hadn’t gotten around to it, or it just hadn’t been nearly as effective as Aidan was hoping for.
Sure enough, Dawson had just grabbed his and Cam’s drinks from the bartender when Ramsey reached his final destination.
Unsurprisingly, it was right next to Nate.
“Bishop,” Ramsey said, inclining his head. He was in a slate-blue sweater tonight, his chain just visible, glittering against his throat.
Nate only rolled his eyes. “Playing nice, huh?”
“I thought that’s what Ialwaysdo,” Ramsey retorted mildly, seemingly not bothered by Nate’s adversarial attitude.
Dawson exchanged a knowing glance with Cam.
“Yeah, wonder if you can actually fucking stand any of us,” Nate grumbled.
“Oh, but you’re myfavorite, Nathaniel,” Ramsey teased.
Nate made a face, and Dawson decided that he’d heard enough. Whatever Aidan said, it hadnotbeen effective. Maybe it was time to throw his own hat into the ring. He nudged Cam, giving him a subtle look over at where Duke and Jack were hanging out. Cam nodded back, message clearly received.
“Hey, Nate, I was gonna ask you something,” Dawson said, sliding in between where Nate was leaning against the bar and where Ramsey stood. “You got a minute?”
The thundercloud on Nate’s face lifted a bit. Like he’d just wanted an excuse to leave Ramsey alone. But then, as Dawson led Nate over to one of the high-top tables, he caught Nate glancing backwards.
Right at Ramsey.
Before Dawson could try to parse the expression on Nate’s face—was it longing or frustration or annoyance or possibly a semi-toxic combination of all three?—it was wiped clean.
“So, what’s up?” Nate asked, leaning his elbows against the table.
Oh shit. Dawson had told him he was going to ask him something. Which meant he needed to ask him something.
Dawson scrambled. “Uh, you might’ve heard I had to fire my lawyer.”
“Yeah, I did hear. That sucks, man. Sucks that people keep taking advantage of you.” Nate’s tone was genuinely sincere. He wasn’t a man of many words but the words he did say always seemed heartfelt. Which was why it always seemed odd that Nate seemed so adamantly against Ramsey, even from the beginning, when he’d had no real reason to dislike the guy.
Dawson shrugged. Wondered how he could subtly segue from him firing his lawyer to the subject of Ramsey. Maybe if he just kept going, it would come to him.
Should’ve just left this to Aidan. He’s way better at this shit.
Aidanwas, but Dawson was discovering how good it was to be part of a team again, to bereallypart of a team, and he didn’t want to just take a back seat anymore and leave all the hard shit to his old friend.
“Thanks,” Dawson said. “I was wondering if you had any recommendations. Knew anyone who was really good at handling contract stuff. And wouldn’t be against seeing me through the rest of this trial with Ackerman.”
“Yeah, my guy’s great. I’ll text you his number.”
“That’s awesome.”See, Hall? Two birds, one stone.
“No prob.” Nate glanced back at where Ramsey was standing, now chatting easily with Wes and Mo. Dawson knew what thatlook felt like. Wanting to go over there, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
It was what gave him the push to finally say something. “You seem like a real helpful guy,” Dawson said.
Nate looked over at him. “I do?” he asked, smile tilting up the corner of his mouth.
