Page 53 of Set Fire to This Cardhouse

“Huh.” Jesy’s eyes narrow, her head tilted to one side while she assesses him. “Aren’t you his partner?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I keep tabs on him between jobs.” He meets her scrutiny calmly, keeping his posture open and his features smooth. While she may have picked up a thing or two from Peppermint Peppy, Toby doubts she’s had the amount of practice that he clocked with Jada—countering her growing suspicions with a demonstrative air of you-are-imagining-crazy-things and hating himself for it.

“Well.” Jesy shrugs, the gesture almost lost in the uniform that sags on her delicate frame. “Maybe someone spit into his coffee. He seemed fine yesterday.” She follows it up with another sharp look at Toby.

Toby keeps his face impassive. “Might be the hotel getting to him, after all. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a hotel room day after day, what with people coming in all the time to make up the bed, go through my stuff, read whatever documents I didn’t lock away…”

“On the other hand,” Jesy says brightly, “someone else is cleaning up your mess.”

“Fair point.” Leaning both elbows on the reception desk, Toby allows his defenses to lower just a little, if not too far. He gives her an innocent look. “But, see, instead of vacuuming, I just move every year or so. That takes care of the cleaning, too.”

“I do have a functioning bullshit radar, you know?” Jesy’s grin is broad, reminds him a little of Liu when he’s out of boss mode. Absently, Toby wonders where she’s from, but it’s none of his business.

“Peppy would be so proud,” he says. “Anyway. Squash?”

Jesy’s grin widens. “Absolutely. Even if you don’t stand a chance.”

Given Toby’s current preoccupation with other issues, he tends to agree. He isn’t about to back down, though. Besides, it’s a chance to let off some steam.

***

Liu is a cunning bastard.

This isn’t news, but Toby forgets sometimes, lulled into a false sense of security by Liu’s laid-back attitude. That illusion shatters when Liu suddenly snaps his menu shut and stares Toby down across the table, the focused look a counterpoint to his mild tone. “Much as I hate mixing business and pleasure, we need to discuss what’s up with you and your partner before I send you off on another job.”

Ah, shit. While Toby isn’t surprised that Liu has noticed, he didn’t expect to discuss it over their traditional lunch break, this time in an Indian restaurant they haven’t been to in a while. Toby foregoes an actual reply in favor of a noncommittal hum.

“I’m not kidding.” Liu leans forward. “I want to send the two of you off to Singapore, think it’d be a good fit for your skill set, but those vibes I’m getting? Maybe not.”

“Vibes?” Toby asks, following it up with, “Singapore?” He’s stalling, of course, and getting away with it was never going to happen—Liu is smarter than that. It still buys Toby some time to come up with answers he doesn’t have.

“Singapore indeed,” Liu says. “Should be a tough nut, and I’d like you and Mike on it, especially because it’s a direct result of those bugs you installed in France. I like the sense of continuity. However.” He reaches over to close Toby’s menu, thus forcing Toby’s attention away from the selection of beverages. It requires some thought, okay? “However,” Liu repeats. “Before I do that, I need to know what’s going on.”

Toby studies a set of rhinestones on the menu, vaguely reminiscent of that New Delhi café he visited with Mike. But then, Indian-style places tend to resemble each other in their decoration choices—if Toby’s brain plans to jump to New Delhi each time he sees rhinestones, he’s in for a fun time.

He sighs and meets Liu’s calm gaze. “Are you asking as my friend or as my boss?”

“Both.” Liu taps the cover of his menu. It displays an ornate design in the shape of a pyramid, not unlike one of Mike’s tattoos, and Jesus, Toby really needs to get this under control.

“Both.” He breaks eye contact. “Okay.”

“But if you need to know who you’re talking to in case I’m forced to choose?” Liu’s tone is light. “Two years as your boss versus five years as your friend—easy, brother.”

Toby lets his gaze drag up, from Liu’s shoulder to his earlobe. “What if I kind of broke the rules? Theoretically speaking.”

“Theoretically speaking?” Liu still doesn’t sound fazed, and that’s one of the things that made him a great partner: his utterly unshakeable calm even in the eye of the storm. He taught Toby a lot, from tactical skills to research methods to psychological tricks. The consequence is that they know each other’s tells, that Liu will take account of every little nervous twitch Toby can’t suppress.

The reverse is also true. It allows Toby to catch the momentary, very slight narrowing of Liu’s eyes, invisible to anyone who doesn’t specifically watch out for it as a sign of unease.

“Well,” Liu continues slowly, “that depends. Was anyone harmed? Theoretically.”

“Theoretically…” Toby shakes his head. “No. It’s not that kind of rule. More a guideline, I guess.”

“Glad to hear it.” Liu’s smile is small, but true. “In that case, no competition. I’m on your side, hands down.”

A waitress interrupts to take their orders, and as Liu lists his selection, Toby takes the chance to covertly study him. He doesn’t detect any of Liu’s usual tells—tightness around the eyes, a particular way he rolls his shoulders back. When Toby orders, he can tell that Liu is returning the favor, openly assessing Toby with an expectant weight to his gaze.

“So,” Liu says as soon as the waitress is out of hearing range. “Spill.”

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