Patrick’s borrowed phone buzzed in his pocket. “Are you updating the group chat?”
“Jono needs to know you’re being dumb,” Wade retorted.
Right on cue, Patrick’s phone started ringing. It connected to the Bluetooth in the Mustang, and he scowled when Wade reached over to accept the call on the dashboard’s screen.
“Why the fuck are you meeting with that arsehole?” Jono demanded.
“They’re giving me back my phone,” Patrick said.
“Youhavea mobile.”
“It’s not mine, and I need mine back. I need to know if they managed to hack through the encryption security on it.”
“Hermes said they wouldn’t.”
“I don’t trust that fucker.”
Jono swore quietly. “I’m still in Brooklyn. Can’t you wait until after you’ve picked up Gerard?”
“It’s a twenty-minute detour at most. Gerard won’t care if I’m a little late. He’ll get coffee somewhere outside the terminal and wait.”
Jono let out an aggravated sigh, but Patrick wasn’t about to turn back around. “Ring me when you’re finished so I know you’re okay.”
“If I don’t, Wade will.”
“I told him not to do it,” Wade said.
“We know how well that works with him,” Jono mused.
“It doesn’t.”
“Hey,” Patrick protested.
Wade quickly shoved the last bite of his breakfast sandwich into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer and picked up another, unwrapping it with deft fingers. Patrick rolled his eyes.
“Be safe,” Jono said.
“We will be.”
The call ended. Patrick kept driving, and Wade kept eating. By the time they made it to the US Attorney’s building, Wade had finished his food, the bag crumpled on the floormat between his feet.
They parked in the garage adjacent to the US Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of New York and took the stairs rather than the elevator down to the ground level since they were only one level up. Patrick led the way to the front entrance of the building, wondering if they’d have to flag down a security guard to get let in. When he tried the glass door, it was unlocked.
“Smells okay,” Wade muttered just loud enough that Patrick could hear.
Patrick nodded absently, shields locked down tight and dagger close at hand. They went to the security desk and got put through the rigmarole of handing over identification and getting directed to the proper elevator to take up to the sixth floor.
The reception desk was empty when they arrived in the lobby area of that floor. There was a small bell on the desk that Wade went about tapping over and over so that the ringing sound was nonstop.
Patrick shot him an annoyed look. “You can stop.”
“I’ll stop when someone comes out,” Wade said, hitting the bell faster.
Patrick was about to take the bell away and toss it out of reach of Wade when someone cleared their throat from the direction of the hallway leading to the rest of the office. Patrick turned and met Preston’s gaze as Wadefinallystopped ringing the goddamn bell.
“You didn’t need to ring it. The security guard let us know you were on your way up,” Preston said.
“Took you five minutes to come greet us. I wanted to make sure you knew we were here,” Wade said, finger inching toward the bell again.
