“Jesus.” I shake my head. “I need to take a long, hot shower and look for something on my desk.”
“What’s that code for, again?” Lois asks.
I SPEND A GOOD LONGwhile trying to relax in the bathroom, and then blow off some more steam in bed, watching reels of classic car renos, my mind floating back to Amy. I was expecting to hear from her over the vacation—nothing major, just a quick line about the gift I gave her the last time we met, or something. But nope. Nada. Considering how stubborn she is, I’m guessing there’s a good chance that pass is still right there in the envelope where I left it, and the worst part is that instead of pissing me off, the idea actually makes me smile. She’s a weird one, and I like that. It keeps me curious; it speaks to my competitive streak. It reminds me of the first time I met Lane—the way he used to hold everyone at arm’s length. At the time, I had no idea his brother had died just the year before, so I spent weeks working on him, trying to coax him out of his shell. As it turned out, it paid off. Maybe I see people as challenges sometimes, and maybe Amy Hitman is next on my to-do list. I guess you could say I’m a natural risk-taker, and because I like to live dangerously, Idecide to message her. Nothing heavy—just a quick reminder that we have New Year’s Eve plans.
LEWIS:Firebird! Don’t forget the party tonight.
I add a location pin, just to make sure she can’t pretend to screw this up.
Crazy to think I was actively trying to avoid her, way back when. Now it’s like I’ll do anything to get her on board.
In just a few hours, she’ll be meeting the next batch of Campus Drivers, and I’m curious to see how they’ll all get along. It’s a whole different vibe to how things are with Don, Lane, Adam, and me—we were car friends first, and we set up the app together. I just hope our new recruits manage to bond the way we did. That’s just as important to me as anything else.
An hour slips by, and when shestillhasn’t messaged back, I’m starting to think my apprentice is planning to leave me on unread.
LEWIS:If you ghost me, I’m gonna swing by and pick you up. Even if it kills me.
I’m only half exaggerating. I’ve seen her in action—my balls are definitely on the line.
When I see she’s typing, I sit up. It’s taking her forever, and either she’s drafting the world’s longest, bullshittiest excuse, or she’s struggling to find the words. I have to actually remind myself to breathe.
FIREBIRD:OK.
I stare at the screen, but nothing happens.
That it? “OK”? That all I’m getting? “OK” what?
LEWIS:Come on, Hitman. You can do better than that. That reminds me, though… I need to add “messaging etiquette” to our checklist—we get a lot of them, I’m gonna have to show you what a solid reply looks like.
FIREBIRD:“OK” is always a solid reply. Stop being a little bitch, Conley.
LEWIS:I’m your boss, lady.
FIREBIRD:My boss bitch.
I know she’s messing with me, but there’s something about her turn of phrase that’s kind of sexy…
I’m instantly hard.
I need to shut this down before things start spinning out of control.
LEWIS:Be here at seven.
FIREBIRD:I’ll try to be on time.
I’m starting to speak fluent Hitman, because I immediately sense that what she’s really saying is “There’s no way you’re telling me what time to show up.” Thank fuck I actually preempted this—we told the others to get here for eight.
LEWIS:Make sure you wear my Christmas gift!
FIREBIRD:Oh, I have *just* the dress for it.
LEWIS:That’s great. Since I didn’t get any feedback, I was starting to worry you didn’t like it.
FIREBIRD:I was planning on surprising you…
LEWIS:Can’t wait!
I know she probably won’t wear it—but if I troll her hard enough, she might put it on, just for the challenge factor.
