“You too, Will,” she said, watching with interest as he trotted for a second to catch up to Cole, who was already outside.
Will fell in beside Cole again. “You’re were the champion of ding-dong-dash as a kid, weren’t you?”
“I never played that game.”
Will smirked. “Right, because it’s only really fun if you’re playing with friends.”
He couldn’t be sure, but Will was almost positive Cole had just rolled his eyes behind his pricey shades. “I had friends.”
“Butlers don’t count.”
“You can fuck off now.”
“Mm, no can do, honeybee. You’re not the only one who got rolled by Marcus. Hell, you didn’t even end up covered in swampy water, so you got away easier than most of us.”
Cole glanced his way. “It’s not my fault your man on the inside didn’t do his job well enough.”
Will frowned. “Okay, you know what? Fuck you. My guy got us CCTV footage from a fucking police station in record time. He’s damn good at what he does.”
“Then I guessyou’rethe weak link in that particular chain.”
Oof. Mr. Dalton was really pulling out all the stops today. Will had thought they’d reached an equilibrium; not necessarily a genuine sense of camaraderie but a “we’re in the same boat” kind of thing. Apparently having Marcus revealed as even more of a scumbag than they already knew he was had tipped Cole right over from “grumpy” into “douchebag.” Will could meet fire with fire, or…
“Look at this logically,” he said, falling into perfect step beside Cole. “We’re working on a limited timetable. Marcus is a magpie but he never holds on to anything for long.”Lovers included.How someone like Marcus had pulled Cole in the first place was a puzzle; what was the allure for either of them? Did Marcus just want to have a billionaire on a string for a while, or did Cole like the challenge that came from going after someone who was always going to be more impressed with himself than with anything Cole could bring to the table, wealth included?
Jesus, mating dances were complicated. One more reason to stick with one-nighters. That was the mistake Will had made with Marcus.
“If he isn’t found fast, he’s going to sell or pass on the Puffin and it might disappear forever.” For a guy who was so interested in his own artistic legacy, he wasn’t very concerned about preserving the legacies of others. “So speed is of the essence, and I don’t know how you usually like to track people down,”—bribes, probably, or maybe he found a sucker who didn’t know about his personality and smiled at them just right— “but I do it via conversation.”
Cole finally stopped. “Conversation.”
Will smiled. “Yep.”
“And that works for you?”
“Hey.” Will pressed an affronted hand to his chest. “Peopleliketalking to me. I have the best intel, not to mention the best gossip.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Will you let me finish making my point?”
“Oh,didyou have a point?”
No jury in the world would convict me for driving my boot up this guy’s ass so far he’s got to use a fishing pole to get it out.
“My point is,” Will ground out, “you think you’re gonna get farther on your own, but I’m telling you right now you’re not. The fastest way to find Marcus is by working together.”
“Hm.” Cole tilted his sunglasses down to look at Will for a moment. He smiled his best smile and waited for inevitable capitulation. “No.” Then Cole unlocked his cheap-as-shit-mobile and got into the front seat.
Motherfu—fine.
“All right,” Will said, taking the nuclear option. “Then I guess I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon callin’ on your folks.”
Cole, in the process of turning the key, paused. “You’ll never get into their place,” he said after a moment, but Will knew he’d caught him.
“Oh, I think your mom’ll open the door for me when I start broadcasting details of our sordid affair through the intercom at their place. Or maybe at the country club she likes to visit on Sundays.”
Will could practically see the gears turning in Cole’s head. He was a cool glass of water, no mistake, but hedidhave a modicumof concern for his mother despite rumors of a major rift between him and his parents. The fact that he’d chivvied her out of the party last night before she could get drenched confirmed it. And no WASPy woman like Lucille Dalton could be entirely sanguine about her son failing to follow in his father’s footsteps, preference for men included. If Cole wanted to save himself the trouble of dodging his mother’s calls for the next several weeks, he’d?—
