Page 52 of Shâhzâdeh

“Well, we’re not friends, I don’t really respect what you do and you have too many names. So, agent it is.”

“Tough cookie.” I don’t know if he thought it was a compliment but it sounded like an insult.

“Nah, strong woman. Now again, are we done? I’ve told you all I know about my client.” I put my hand over my eyes hating I’d forgotten to bring my sunglasses out of the car.

“It seems like he’s more than that to you, but if you say he’s not…”

“It is funny that you are here digging for information from a woman because you think I’m the weakest link. That thought process is insulting, wrong and is what causes people like you to fail at your duties.”

“You think I’m afraid of failure?” His face went from friendly to blank and I knew I’d struck a nerve.

“With the type of work that you do, failure can mean death so I would think you would be more concerned about it. But if you have a kink to dance with the grim reaper keep underestimating the people that you come across.”

“Was that a threat, Ms. Kennedy?”

I put my hand on my chest in surprise. “From little ol me? How could I ever be a threat to anyone? I’m just a girl, remember? You thought that flattery would have me, what? Falling head over heels? Pillow talking? Spilling secrets I don’t have? Grow up.”

“You are very angry for someone that has nothing to hide.” And now I was sliding into the angry Black woman trope. Got it.

“Because you’ve insulted me on a molecular level with this shit and I don’t have to deal with it. So, am I under arrest? If so, I need a lawyer. If not, I’m walking away and praying that I never have to deal with you again.”

“No hopes of this moving past professional into the personal, then?”

I laughed loudly and blatantly in his face. I wasn’t blind, this man was handsome. But nothing about him was attractive to me. The hold Xerxes Cannon silently held on me combined with this man’s job made that impossible. “Nothing about you excites me. You work for the very government would just as soon put your ass onto a boat to whatever country they think you come from. I don’t understand working with or for people who would oppress you, but what do I know?”

“Appearances can be deceiving Ms. Kennedy.”

“And yet you approached me thinking my looks meant that I was stupid. Or at worse easily swayed. Like I said, step up your game, Ortega-Castillo.”

“No mister this time?” He was trying not to laugh and all I wanted was to get out of here.

“Mister is a sign of respect that you reserve for people who’ve earned it or form those who are elders. Since you’re barely older than me and I’ve lost all respect for you, you don’t deserve the honorific.” I walked past him and almost got to my car before he spoke up.

“That’s cold-blooded.”

I stopped and turned to face him, thankful that I was dressed down and could run if I needed to. My annoyance with him and this situation filled my face the longer I looked at him. I was already thinking about the text I was about to send off to warn Xerxes that someone was asking questions about him.

“No. That’s karma. Have the day you deserve.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

That somebody

XERXES

“WE HAVE A problem.”

That is how my mother, light of my life that she was, greeted me when I entered her office. Her perfectly manicured, ebony and brown brows were furrowed over her eyes as she stared at something on her screen.

I’d come dressed for business because she told me that’s what this was about. I might be in her home, but Babette didn’t play with dressing for the job. I was barefoot but in a full suit. No matter what, I wasn’t about to break the rules and wear outside shoes in her house.

I took my seat in front of her desk after kissing her on both cheeks. “What is zhe issue?”

“I can’t discuss it with you, but we are about to get on a call that will allow everything to be revealed.” Her brows were tight but that was the only sign that something negative was going on.

My mother’s office reflected her: vibrant colors, soft textures and gilding over the rich wood of the bookcases. Her desk was an antique passed down throughout our family for years. It was one of the first pieces of furniture that our ancestor purchased when they received freedom. It was a historical artifact and would never be sold.

“Zhere is no part of zhat statement zhat I like.”

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