All eyes are on me. I play it cool and fill a heavy crystal tumbler with brandy, knock it back, and wait for the heat to kick in. It barely touches the sides.
“Nothing of note. Attended CUNY. Started up a tech company with money from Daddy. Hit the big time when Isabella was handed to him on a plate.”
“Until he realizes that he’s marrying a Sicilian heiress with psychopathic tendencies,” Bash joins in.
It’s easy to see the funny side of a situation once it’s behind you. We almost lost our sister because of Olivia Dragonetti. We’d have all done time to save her, but we’d have had to climb over Terry first.
“What about Remy Jones?” I float the name out there.
Bash sits up straight. “What about her?” His eyes are like bullets.
“She and George Quinn were deep in conversation on the casino floor when she finished her shift.” It’s an exaggeration. From what I saw, Remy couldn’t wait to get away from him, but I need the truth, not the watered-down version of events.
We all face Bash when the empty glass in his hand cracks, scattering jagged shards across the table’s surface. He shoves his seat backwards and stands up, staring at the blood welling in his palm.
“They were childhood sweethearts,” Kyle reads from the screen in front of him; he’s the glue that holds us all together. “Left his girlfriend, Remy Jones, shortly before his engagement to Isabella was announced. The only information I can find on her is that she’s enrolled at CUNY, her sister died of a drug overdose aged sixteen… And she is now employed at the Rinse.” Kyle eyes me coolly. “But you knew that, of course.”
“That’s it?” Bash sits back down with a crisp white napkin wrapped around his hand.
“What more do you want?” I ask.
When my twin loses his shit, we all pay attention because it happens so rarely. They expect it from me, but he got the quiet, controlled genes when we shared our mom’s womb.
“I want to know why she’s here. I want to know who her friends are, where she hangs out, when was the last time she spoke to George Quinn.”
“Care to enlighten us why this is relevant?” Kyle powers down the tablet and sits back in his seat.
“It’s relevant because she’s working on my premises.” Bash avoids making eye contact with any of us. “So, I want to know if she’s an implant, and if so, what are her intentions.”
“Or,” Kyle says, “you could just fire her. Job done.”
Bash shakes his head. “When did we start letting potential danger out of our sight?”
He has a point. If Remy has been planted in the Rinse by her ex, we’ll deal with the situation accordingly and use her to make their plan backfire. I’m still struggling to think that she might’ve had an ulterior motive when drinks were spilled on her, but I can’t write it off until armed with all the facts.
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Kyle’s gaze hops back and forth between Bash and me. “But Isabella Leone is the real problem here. Let’s not lose sight of the fact that Ms. Jones has no connections other than an ex-boyfriend who dumped her when a better offer came along. She has no reason to work for him.”
“Money is always a reason.” Bash unwinds the bloody napkin, tosses it onto the table, and flexes his fingers.
Kyle is still watching him closely. “Agreed, but realistically, how close has Remy Jones got to knowing anything about you or the Rinse? Firing her tonight would shut any potential situation down.”
“Too late.” Bash stands up again, ending the meeting. “Send me everything you find on her ASAP.”
He doesn’t make eye contact with me, and his vibes are all over the place tonight, but I don’t need it written in black and white.
He knows about me and Remy in his guest room.
6
BASH
Kyle sendshis report on Remy Jones across to me less than an hour later.
It all checks out. I don’t ask how he gets his information, but if it’s printed in black and white, and Kyle has given it his seal of approval, I believe it.
According to his sources, Remy and George Quinn have had no contact since their relationship ended, and she hasn’t been in a relationship since. Her grades are above average. Parents divorced. Her sister passed away as he mentioned before, and no other siblings. Remy shares a dorm room with Ariel Floyd, Black, a barista in her spare time, family attends local church.
Other than dating George Quinn, a grifter who sees his recently acquired fiancée as a free pass to untold wealth and power, Remy is squeaky clean. So, why can’t I accept what happened between us and let it go?
