Soph:
That was smooth… all except for your audience.
Nice job connecting the phones. Now I’ve got a bug with him everywhere he goes.
Though I hardly think following him is necessary now that the esteemed Chief Hillary Harrison is out here batting her lashes and leading the horny prick by his nose hairs.
Shuffle your affairs and confirm your date. This one’s gonna be easy.
P.S. It’s day two since your last infusion, which means you should take one of those pills I sent you. We can’t start the trial until you actually swallow the medicine.
Me:
Pass. But you should know I slipped one in my purse before my meeting with Abate last night. I figured if something really shitty happened and I needed Factor, I was willing to take a chance and hope for the best.
Soph:
That’s an improvement on your previous stance of ‘fuck no’. Don’t bother with the hospital tonight. Start the trial.
“No need for the hospital,” I grumble under my breath.My fridge is stocked with the wildly, insanely overpriced medication I need to live.
Harrison brings the SUV away from the curb and meets my eyes in the rear-view mirror. “You say something, Chief?”
“Talking to myself.” I cross my legs and stare down at my phone. We’re not in Jamaica anymore, which means I have no fresh rocks in my inbox. But I have a message from Aubree.
I’m coming back to work Monday.
And another from Raquel:
My neck hurts, and I’ve developed what appears to be a hunched back. My workload is unreasonable, and also, Doctor Campbell’s brother is still available if we wish to bring him on staff. Just thought I’d throw that out there.
Ignoring both, I spy Cato’s name in bold lettering and gulp.
I know you put on a date dress last night, asshole. And I also noticed stubble rash on your neck when you got back.
I’m not saying I meant to look that close, but a man sees what a man sees, and I STG, you’re breaking my heart. I love you, and I love my brother.
I’ll love you both a whole lot more together.
If you’ve so much as SMILED at another motherfucker, this entire city will burn. Don’t be the reason we all die.
Shaking my head, I navigate back to my texts with Soph and quickly type:
No to the pills. Yes to dealing with MihalisSalonen. Double yes to you getting the tech stuff upgraded at the George Stanley. The faster, the better. I’m heading home and getting ready for work. Talk later.
ARCHER
“You look like hell.” Fletch reclines in his chair, his feet on his desk, and throws a tennis ball six feet into the air, catching it again on its way down. “You haven’t shaved in days. You changed your shirt, but only ‘cos the last one looked like Swiss cheese. You have bags under your eyes large enough to take a family of five on vacation, and I strongly suggest you talk to your dentist, because even the rookie mentioned how much you’ve been grinding your teeth lately.”
I shoot an unhappy look toward Officer Clay sitting studiously at his desk, his back ramrod straight and his eyes scouring reports about… fuck knows what.
“I’m not saying you smell or anything, but every time I look at you, I expect to see the squiggly cartoon lines.” Fletch gestures my way. “Ya know, wafting up from your shoulders.”
“I suggest you stop looking at me altogether.” I scroll through my emails on my phone and watch in real time as my next meeting comes together smoothly. A half-dozen men, allinterested in buying the same fucking product in a world where supply is low and demand is high.
Means I get to name the price.
Adrenaline sizzles in my veins as MihalisSalonen’s name pops up on my screen, and immediately under that, his invitation acceptance.
