“Fair,” Madison says, and some of the other girls echo a response.
No one has asked me anything about myself, which tells me they’re used to having strangers in and out and know better than to get involved with Colm’s business. Which I can respect.
I’m just applying the finishing touches when I hear the office door open, and Colm and Kaitlyn walk back into the room.
“You alright?” he asks, as if I was going to be mauled and harassed by the lovely dancers.
I stand up and turn around before I answer him, which means I get to see in glorious, technicolor detail his expression shift as he takes in the sight of my face.
Oh, he likes this.
There was always a chance it would gross him out, which wouldn’t have stopped me obviously, but would have been less fun. But no. I’m pretty sure they could see the man’s pupils dilate from space.
“I’m perfect. Did you finish your very important secret business?”
There’s a pause while I can see him struggling to get his face under control, and then he clears his throat. The snigger I hear from the other corner of the room tells me absolutely everyone here is picking up on his vibes.
For a criminal, he really is horrifically un-stealthy.
“It wasn’t secret, just private. There’s a difference,” he says. “But yes, we’re done. Although I think I have more problems now, not less.”
Kaitlyn has been watching me closely during this conversation and I can see some kind of comment on the tip of her tongue, but she’s cut off when Colm continues to speak to me.
“I’ll explain in the car, but Kaitlyn has a theory that the weird situation she’s been tracking has nothing to do with the Aryans, and there’s an entirely new player in tow. And if her contact is right, this is a very big, very trans-continental deal and we might need to get your father involved.”
I wrinkle my face unconsciously. The last thing I need is that man traipsing through here, spoiling all my fun.
“Sorry, I can’t help. I’m here for my own reasons and your business is not my business, despite what my father might insist. I’m not getting sucked into something Earth-shatteringly boring just because of hearsay.”
Kaitlyn’s face darkens, and I can see I’ve touched a nerve. She’s very put together, but for the first time since walking in here, I get the feeling it’s completely and utterly a front.
I mean; I guess you have to be pretty crazy to work at a place like this voluntarily. The mafia aspect, not the sex-work aspect, obviously. Sex work is the single most sensible thing a person can do, in my opinion.
“Ellery wouldn’t lie about this. They’re fucking sharp, if they say someone else is involved, then someone else is involved.”
For a split second, my heart stops. Then I make a conscious effort to smooth all my outsides into something impenetrable, so no one can see how those words just rocked me.
“And where is this contact?” I ask, my voice even.
“Colm can explain. We’re late to open, and someone has to keep this place fucking running. I appreciate the promotion, Colm, but you could have given me less of a shithole to work with.”
Colm rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because what you were doing before was so glamorous, all those late-night drug runs with Eamon, the creepiest fucking man in organized crime. I’m sure that experience was classy as fuck.”
His tone is snarky, but he’s watching me as he speaks, not her. I don’t give a fuck about what he’s saying, but I do not fucking care for the way he’s looking at me.
It’s too… penetrating. My internal thoughts are closed to visitors right now, but he’s still looking at me like he wants to get in. Unacceptable.
I barely notice when Kaitlyn stomps off in a huff, and neither does he. Around us, the dancers all go back to business as usual after studiously pretending they weren’t eavesdropping.
“Let’s go,” Colm says, reaching for my elbow and then aborting the movement at the last possible second.
At least he’s learning.
Chapter Eight
Colm
There’s something weird about Fallow.
