“Something like that,” agreed Suit Two.
Robbie drummed his fingers. “I’m listening. Tell me more.”
Chapter Sixteen
Not Just Desserts
Finn hadjust put the finishing touches on the marinade and stuck the tenderloin in the fridge when the front door opened.
“Robbie?”
“Just me,” Finn told Sawyer. He grabbed the kitchen spray to sterilize the counter top and was mid-wipe-down when Sawyer entered the room.
“Where’s Robbie?”
“His agent called.” Finn shrugged. “Some last-minute opportunity, I don’t know. He was vague on the phone. He’ll be back by dinner. Did you have fun with Imogen?”
“We don’t havefun,” Sawyer said loftily. “We’re teenagers. We justchill.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Chilling sounds very un-fun. Terrible time.”
“Wait, are you making dinner? But it’s Eugene’s night to come over and cook.”
“Eugene has a date.” One that Finn suspected had been rescheduled a few times due to last-minute panicked calls from Robbie about Sawyer’s custody hearing. “We’re having pork and roast potatoes and green beans.”
Sawyer eyed him at the mention of vegetables. “Can’t we have corn on the cob instead?”
“Second crop’s not in season for two more weeks, bud.”
A gusty, long-suffering groan worthy of any teenager ensued. “Fiiiine. But I’m putting butter on mine.”
“We’re all obviously putting butter on them. What are we, heathens?”
Apparently this mollified him, because he hefted himself up to sit on the counter. “Green beans are better than Eugene’s kind anyway. Do you know how many beans are in vegan chili? You could blow a hole through your underwear.”
Jesus. “Thank you for that mental image.” Maybe Finn could find a way to be conspicuously absent if Eugene was going to cook. Oooh, he could make that his standing dinner date with Holly.
He was about to challenge Sawyer to a game of pool when the doorbell rang.
They looked at each other. “You expecting anyone?” Finn asked.
Sawyer spread his hands. “Who even knows I live here? I just came from Imogen’s.”
“Do people come door-to-door trying to sell you new windows in this neighbourhood?” Finn slung the rag he’d been wiping the counter with over his shoulder. “I mean….”
Sawyer followed him to the front door.
A tiny Hispanic woman stood on the front step, dressed in a smart pantsuit with a leather satchel slung over one shoulder. She peered up at Finn through plastic-framed glasses. “Mr. Zeiger? I’m Zulma Gutierrez-Hernandez, with the Children’s Aid Society.”
Oh shit. “Uh, I’m not Robbie—Mr. Zeiger,” Finn said. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Sawyer, who’d gone pale. Robbie might’ve been preparing for a surprise CAS visit for weeks, butFinnhadn’t. “He’s at a business meeting.”
Zulma Gutierrez-Hernandez nodded, nonplussed. “That’s fine. I can do my inspection of the home and speak with Sawyer. I can interview Mr. Zeiger another time.”
Shit. Shit! It had been a long time since grade eleven law class. “Um,” Finn said. He could do this. He turned to Sawyer. “Sawyer, text Robbie, okay? Let him know what’s going on.”
Then he pulled his own phone from his pocket and stepped onto the front step with Zulma, closing the door behind him.
Zulma Gutierrez-Hernandez tilted her head. “Are you denying me access to the property?”
