She folded another set of pants before speaking again. “Look, Nairobi, I’m not asking you to change. And I’m not expecting some perfect mother-daughter thing—we’ve never had that. But… I would like to get to know you. Know about your life. I get that your work is top-secret, but he’s not here anymore. We don’t need to keep using him as a barrier between us.”
I still had a lot of anger toward my parents. But my motheropening up like this, telling her side of the story, made me realize things weren’t so black and white.
Sterling Crawford was good at building cages and keeping us in them. My mother, the obedient wife. Me, the weapon. We were both shaped into what he wanted us to be. And now we were both left starting from scratch with each other.
Cash and Fontaine didn’t want me to go into this meeting alone. It was risky, but the conversation about Hana needed to happen without interference. Those two were too volatile. If Jack so much as looked at me sideways, it’d be belt to ass quicker than I could blink.
The Emerald Lounge was B.C. territory, so the compromise was simple: they’d be in the back office watching through the security feeds. The place had cameras everywhere. If anything jumped off, they’d be close enough to intervene. The Order wasn’t stupid. They chose this spot for a reason. At the very least, they had to assume Cash would be nearby.
I sat in the booth, twisting the stem of my wine glass between my fingers as I tried to get a handle on my thoughts. Migos played low under the steady conversation that floated through the lounge.
Jack entered the lounge with the same arrogance he had when I met him a few weeks ago. He didn’t even seem to notice the people casting curious glances at him as he made his way toward me. White folks didn’t come through the Emerald Lounge much, especially not ones that looked like a damn James Bond extra. He looked sharp as ever in a well-tailored gray suit, and shoes that screamed Italian leather and old money.
“Ms. Crawford,” he greeted, sliding into the booth beside me like we were old friends.
I tipped my head at him and took a long sip of wine.
“Glad you finally reached out,” he said. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d change your mind.”
“I’m a woman of my word,” I replied. “But I’ve got a few stipulations before I start doing anything for y’all.”
Jack quirked a brow, amused. “Stipulations?”
“I’m assuming the pay is more than what I was making at The Agency?”
He smirked as he flagged down the server. “Hasn’t Fontaine told you the kind of reach we have? You won’t have to worry about money.”
He quickly put an order in for an old fashioned and turned back to me with that insufferable composure.
“Anything else?”
“Why the fuck is mysisterdoing all this to get my attention? If she wanted to talk, she could’ve done it directly. Instead, she sends you,” I paused and cocked my head. “What are you—her errand boy? Her handler? Or are you fucking her? You Hana’s lover, Jack?”
There was a slight tick of his jaw—barely noticeable—but I caught it. Satisfaction spread through my chest as I peeped him shift ever so slightly in his seat.
“You two have more in common than you realize,” he said once his drink arrived. “Neither of you believe in mincing words. Probably got that from your father.”
“All this talking in circles and you’re still not answering my question.”
He took a slow sip of his cocktail. “You want a face-to-face. Understood.”
“Before anything’s finalized,” Iclarified. “No more middlemen. If she wants something from me, she’ll have to tell me herself.”
Wordlessly, he pulled out his phone, quickly scrolled through his contacts before lifting the phone to his ear.
“Moshi moshi,”?* he greeted the person on the other end.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes as he started prattling in perfect Japanese. Becauseof coursehe spoke Japanese. I tapped my nails impatiently on the table.
“Hai,”?* he said as he nodded.
A pause.
“Hai.”
He ended the call and slid the phone into his jacket pocket.
“She’ll meet you tomorrow.”
