We’re pulling the Ferrari into a space on Linden near the bank when Kobra texts.Can I buy you a latte sexy?
What the—?
When? Why?
Yellow is your color. Meet at Cuppa.
Then, after a moment, he adds:
Now.
“This Kobra asshole is really starting to annoy me,” I say to Max. But before I can tell him more of my thoughts on snakeboy, I look over his shoulder and my blood runs cold. Max has just parked in front of Cuppa Cuppa, which is only a block from the bank—and of course I’m wearing my yellow dress, now stain free and smelling slightly of dry-cleaning solvents. How does Kobra know we’re here?
I show Max the text.
“Kobra? Which one is he? I can’t keep up with all of these assholes.”
“Kobra with a K, the snake charmer compensating for his tiny dick, or at least I assume—how can you forget him?” I don’t remind him that keeping up with all of those assholes is his brand-new job. “Remember? Crystal went out with him and never called him back.”
“Learn to take rejection, asshole,” Max says. “You gotta cut him loose from the roster and block his calls.”
I’m waiting, the usual place, your regular drink.
The longer I sit with the weird string of texts, the more I get that sinking feeling in my gut. This isn’t someone I can ignore. For whatever reason, Kobra knew I would come here. Did my phone send out some signal? Did I post something without knowing it again?
I show Max the text and he gets real quiet, probably thinking the same thing. “He’s either following us or tracking you.”
“Maybe I should call and tell the police that a creepy stalker is following me.”
“Not a bad idea,” he says.
“I don’t want to call the police yet. I want to see his faceand figure out what he wants. Right now, he knows more about me than I do—and I need to find out why.” He’s a piece of the puzzle, even if he’s one I’ll eventually want to throw out.
Max nods. “I’m cool with that. I don’t think he’s going to kill either of us in a coffee shop. And we need the caffeine.”
“I know. And that maple latte was to die for.”
With an expression that is 100 percentReally?,he says, “Maybe not the best choice of words given the situation.” He opens the car door and hooks his arm through mine. “I’ll be your bodyguard. Let’s go meet this asshole.”
“Do you think I should tell the barista, like maybe she could write down his real name and…”
“Unless she knows kung fu, I don’t think you need to let her know. You already have lots of information about the guy from the GoldRush files. I mean, you had to have done some research to make sure he was actually a millionaire.”
“Unless I’m an idiot.” That seems likely at the moment.
“Definitely not an idiot,” Max says, which makes me feel a little better. He’s definitely not an idiot, so if he says I’m good, I’m good.
I take a deep breath and step onto the sidewalk. I can do this. I just have to pretend that I’m a badass. Actually, I don’t have to fucking pretend. Iama badass. Who does this fucker think he is? I’m shaky but not from fear; I’m just mad as hell. “Let’s get a coffee and find out what his deal is.”
Max holds up his hands. “I wouldn’t mess with you. Let him have it and I’ve got your back.” He might be a neuroscientistwho hasn’t seen the outside of a lab since I hired him, but I believe him. Advisable or not, Max will defend me against all of my enemies.31
I don’t say it out loud, but I know we’re both thinking it—this is probably the guy who sent me to the hospital. Maybe art museum guy thought it was a woman, but Kobra has just moved to the top of my suspect list.
Once we’re inside Cuppa Cuppa, I scan the shop. It’s quiet, a few people with laptops are scattered around the room as far apart from each other as possible. The barista from Friday is behind the counter and she gives me a nod when she catches sight of me. “Hey!” She starts to ask if I want the regular before stopping herself to beckon me over conspiratorially. When I lean over the counter, she whispers, “I think someone might have already ordered for you.”
“Really?”
“You know how you were asking me about your friends earlier?”
