“HARLOW!” Foxx roared. “I’m going to end you, OLD MAN!”
“Vampires are cats,” Harlow Blackmore said with zero emotion. Why be emotional about it when it was just a fact?
Tony Varley, Director of the Houndside Hazard Hunters Guild, sat across from him staring blankly, as if he hadn’t heard what Harlow had just said.
With deep brown skin and brown eyes, the sixty-two-year-old had the body of a retired football player. Stocky but starting to go slightly soft in the middle. As far as Harlow could recall, in the twenty years he had known the man, he’d never seen Tony with anything but a military buzz cut, even as it had faded from black to white. The guy didn’t look bad for his age. Having only a few lines on his face here and there, Harlow figured those who didn’t know him would assume Tony was in his forties.
In Harlow’s opinion, this ‘office worker’ look thing he had going on did more to age him than his lines and white hair. Like, what was with him and white polos and khakis? Harlow refused to believe that the man actually liked the clothes, considering he looked uncomfortable as all fucking hell in the shit.
Did Tony think his old leathers and T-shirts wouldn’t be professional enough for a bunch of hunters? NAH—probably just his bitch of a wife’s doing. Thinking on it now, the man’s change of style hadn’t come until after he’d gotten married five years ago—ugh.
Harlow made a note of trying to find a way to piss her off further than he already had, before repeating, “Vampires are cats.”
Tony’s expression finally changed. But it was more of a ‘what the fuck’ type look than anything. “Vampires are not cats.”
Harlow smirked. “Okay. Maybe not all vampires. But Foxx is a cat.”
A tic started to appear in the man’s jaw. “Foxx is not a cat.”
“Hear me out. So, he likes to knock things off tables. He’s temperamental like a cat—hugging one minute, screaming the next. He will do something wrong, get caught doing it, and then pretend nothing happened. Therefore, Foxx is a cat.”
Tony rubbed his face. “Foxx is not a cat.”
“See, you are being tricked into thinking that he isn’t, but he really is. Foxx just hides it. Well, I wouldn’t call it hiding it… I’d say it’s more that you miss all the signs because you aren’t really around him much.”
“Yeah, and this is telling me you are around himwaytoo fucking much.”
He just barely held back his smirk. “No, but look… Look at this video! It’s proof!” Harlow pulled out a mini video player from one of his inner coat pockets. Flipping it open, he pressed play to show Tony his proof.
Tony stared, a vein starting to bulge in his forehead. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Harlow blinked. “Because I can?”
Did he need a reason? Did he even have a reason besides wanting to annoy both Tony and Foxx at the same time? Nope. Nope, that was about it.
“You don’t have anyone else to tell, do you?” Tony accused harshly.
Harlow shrugged in response, uncaring.
It wasn’t necessarily true to say he had no one… He supposed he could tell that punk kid, Gavin. But where would be the fun in that? Gavin would just agree with him and nod. Not to mention, Gavin would likely show up to wreak chaos if he called… Especially after he found out Harlow’s house blew up. Yeah, no, he wouldn’t be calling the man.
Harlow also had a sneaking suspicion that Gavin and Foxx would be a headache together. He just didn’t know in what way. Harlow wasn’t entirely sure how they’d react to each other, but he figured it was better to find out much later than right now.
“So, as I was saying, look at the video,” Harlow said with an evil smirk.
Tony grumbled but his gaze flicked down. “Why do you have a recording of Foxx? And why is it sideways?”
He shrugged again. “Well, it’s possible that he knocked the camera over because it may or may not have been hidden in a black cat figurine.”
“Could you stop being fucking insane for just a brief moment and acknowledge how fucked up it is that you secretly filmed your roommate? Who owns the place you are currently living in, by the way. You do realize that you have nowhere to go if he kicks you out, right?”
“Nah, he won’t. I feel he is more likely to try to strangle me in my sleep than kick me out. He likes my dick too much.”
“Get out of my office,” Tony growled.
“But, why? Aren’t we here to talk about the last case?” Harlow asked with a chuckle. Man, Tony was so easy to fuck with. Though, he supposed, what he said wasn’t a lie. Foxxwouldbe more likely to try to off his ass instead of kicking him out.
The fucked up part was that he actually found the idea of going all out with Foxx exciting. The fact that Harlow wasn’t sure he’d win just added to the feeling.
