Page 61 of Never Enough

“That’s sweet.”

She watched as Nemo wiped his hands on a clean napkin, then turned sideways in his seat. The next thing she knew, his hand was turning her face in his direction. “What’s going on in that head, kitty cat?”

“I just…” She looked around the room, nonplussed as to how to communicate what she was seeing and feeling.

Someone had called the local barbecue restaurant and ordered enough food for an army. Ribs, chicken, brisket, pork… and those were just the meats. Corn on the cob, seasoned potatoes, coleslaw, buns, biscuits with butter and honey, and several kinds of potato salad. When someone wanted something to drink, they just walked a short way down the hall to the office’s break room, where there were pitchers of sweet tea, bottled beer, bottled water, and about twelve kinds of soda. It also looked like a paper products factory had exploded because there were hundreds of plates and napkins everywhere.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve just… I’ve never had this.”

“This.” It wasn’t a question, but he was clearly asking for more information.

“This.” She gestured around them, still unsure how to put it in words. “Friends that pour into a room and create a demilitarized zone with marshmallows and barbecue.”

His smile went ear-to-ear. “Family,” he corrected.

“My family was not like this.”

“Not a blood family. The family you choose. Blood family is important, sure. But ‘this,’ as you call it, is of more value than anything on Earth. And, of course, you have it,” he scoffed.

“No, I’d remember something like this.”

His hand reached up to tug an unruly curl. “You have it now,” he said quietly. “No matter what, these people will always love you.”

She looked at him with incredulity. “Why?”

“Because I do.” His smile was smaller now but no less genuine. He tugged the curl again, then shifted gears so rapidly her head spun. He reached for the bone from the last rib he’d eaten and handed it to Scheherazade, who gnawed it daintily in her spot between Haskell and Nemo’s chairs.

“Nemo!” she gasped, attempting to grab the bone.

“Relax, kitty cat. It was a plain one. No sauce or seasonings. She’ll be fine.”

“But—”

He stayed her hand. “It’s fine. I took her off the streets of Sallum. She can eat a lot of things technically dogs shouldn’t since she was living off garbage to survive when I found her. But I wouldn’t tempt fate because of that. I take care of my girl.”

And he did it again. Made a comment that sounded like one thing but really meant so much more.

Child, do not fall for that shite.

Nemo pushed back his chair and began to pile garbage up. “Let’s help with cleanup, then we’ll take Zade for a walk, yeah?”

She nodded.

23

SEPTEMBER 9, 2022

Nemo

Ninety minutes later, the conference room was clear of all garbage and as clear of barbecue sauce as it was going to be until the special cleaning crew came in the next day to scour the carpeting, furniture, and walls. During that time, he had watched the others interact with Haskell, and he took mental notes on her reactions to them.

It didn’t take long for her to be won over by Kubrick. He snorted. That shouldn’t have been a surprise. Kubrick begged Haskell for trade secrets about her past heists and how things were done. Haskell traded information with her, one heist secret for one filming secret. She even weaseled an invitation onto a movie set in the future. Not that she’d had to work Kubrick very hard.

Coming up on her from behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Kittycat, you smell divine, but if I take you to the beach smelling like braai sauce, you’re going to get mauled.”

“Huh? What’s braai sauce?”

“Barbecue. It’s all over your shirt.”

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