“Vivienne will survive,” said Philip evenly. “And so will you.”
“And what abouthim?”
“Whatabout him?” demanded Philip.
“What if things get out of hand? What if she—” She caught herself, her eyes darting nervously to Thomas. “What if asituationescalates when they’re out? He’s only a boy. What’s he meant to do?”
Thomas had been wondering the same. While it was true that his height gave him a formidable presence—he’d inherited his six-foot-three frame and his Irish temper from his father—size didn’t make someone a defender. He wasn’t sure what kind ofunsavory charactersVivienne Farrow was spending time with, but he could imagine.
Across from him, Philip leaned forward and assessed Thomas with a sudden keenness that left him cold.
“I’ve done my research, too,” he said. “You’re in a fraternity, aren’t you?”
Thomas didn’t like to talk about it. His short-lived college experience. The school’s loss of accreditation. The way he couldn’t afford to go back once the scholarship money dried up. He certainly hadn’t planned to mention it at ajob interview. In any case, his failed fall semester felt like little more than a fever dream. His initiation into the school’s exclusive brotherhood, even more so.
“I was,” he said carefully. “I’m not anymore.”
“Ah.” Philip waved him off. “Once you’re part of something like that, you’re always a part. I was a Phi Epsilon Nu man myself. Graduated back in ’91, but I still meet up with a few members of my alma mater once or twice a year. That’s the beautiful thing about brotherhood—I can call on any one of them, for any reason, and they’d be there, no questions asked. That kind of loyalty runs bone-deep. It can’t be bought. You understand what I’m getting at?”
“Yes, sir,” said Thomas, who was beginning to.
“There’s a bit of secrecy involved,” Philip mused, “when you’re in a society like that, wouldn’t you agree?”
Thomas pictured a huddled mess of freshmen and a wall of names, the still-wet ink gleaming in the firelight. “I would.”
“And you’d never betray the trust of your brotherhood, would you?”
“I wouldn’t, sir.”
“That’s right. Nor would I, mine.” Philip regarded him for a long moment. “I think we understand each other quite well, you and I. Let’s make this simple, shall we?”
Reaching into his inner pocket, he pried loose a checkbook and a luxury pen. After filling out a check, he tore it loose and handed it to Thomas. A glance down at the amount stopped his heart cold. Any thoughts of walking away evaporated at once.
It was more money than Thomas had ever seen in his life.
“Consider that the biweekly sum I’m prepared to pay,” said Philip. “For your time, as well as for your confidentiality.”
“This is—ah—well, it’s, uh—”
He didn’t know what to say. Philip did. “It’s just enough, I’d imagine. Enough to cover the cost of those bills piling up at home. Enough to get your mother started on the clinical trial she’s been wait-listed for these past five years. Enough to pay for a class or two, should you choose to continue pursuing a higher education.”
Thomas glanced up, startled to hear his secrets so easily spilled. There was no getting around it—Philip Farrow had him dead to rights. He needed this money, and both of them knew it.
At his surprise, Philip smiled. “Like I said, I did my research, too. Now, do you have any questions?”
He had at least a dozen. But he was holding on to a check large enough to alter the course of his life, and so he asked only one.
“When do I start?”
From outside came the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle revving up the drive.
Philip stuck out his hand to shake. “You already have.”
“She’s back,” Amelia whispered as the front door swung open with a slam.
Philip rose to his feet and Thomas did, too, grateful for the opportunity to set down his glass unnoticed. Carefully, he folded the check and tucked it into his pocket. It felt like he was carrying a brick of solid gold.
Outside, in the foyer, a pair of heels bit into the marble in a steadyclick,click,click.
