Page 105 of Can't Win 'Em All

“Then let’s do it.” I was firm. “I want to go to bed tonight knowing that we’re all safe.”

Her forehead creased. “There’s something else you’re worried about. What is it?”

I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell her this last part. I couldn’t keep it from her when she asked point blank. I wouldn’t lie. “Ryder has never shown violent tendencies, but he’s about to lose everything. He still thinks he can manipulate us. When he realizes he can’t…” I trailed off.

“When he realizes he can’t, he’ll become a desperate man,” Cora surmised.

“And Ruby is the most vulnerable right now because she’s pregnant,” I agreed.

“Plus, he’s showed interest in manipulating her instead of the others. She’s the one he’ll go to when he recognizes his plan is falling apart.” She bobbed her head. “We need to end this today. I don’t want this hanging over our heads when we should be planning the arrival of my first grandchild.”

“Exactly.”

“Then I’ll arrange it.” She reached for the phone on her desk. “Just one other thing.”

I braced myself for something bad.

“Tomorrow, we’re throwing a surprise baby shower for Ruby,” she explained. “You don’t have to be there—men usually aren’t—but she’ll be more open to the process if you are.”

“You want me to go to a baby shower?” I wrinkled my nose as I considered it. Then I smiled. “I can do that. I’m going to want something from you, though.”

“And what’s that?” She seemed tickled at the prospect of me negotiating with her.

“You need to tell Ruby that Rexanne is a great name.”

“No way.” Cora vehemently shook her head. “We’re not naming that baby Rexanne. What is wrong with you?”

“Oh, I don’t want to name her Rexanne.” I smirked. “I just want to drive Ruby insane so she’s more open to my real suggestion.”

“And what’s your real suggestion?”

“That’s a surprise.”

I thought she might argue for a beat, but ultimately she nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell her I think Rexanne is a good name. If she really tries to name my grandbaby Rexanne, though, you and I are going to war.”

“Cool.” I grinned. “Get the others on the phone. I want to end this. The sooner, the better.”

“Yeah. I’m right there with you.”

THE CHIFFON SMELLED EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED.I hadn’t been inside since I was in my early twenties. During a night on the town, Zach and I decided we wanted to check it out. We hadn’t been disappointed. It was garish, overflowing with smoke, and filled to the brim with the dregs of society. Nothing had changed from my first visit. That was the first thing that went through my mind when I walked through the door with Lionel, Carl, Cal, and two other security guards. The second thing I thought was that I couldn’t wait to raze this place to the ground.

Haskins sat in the little lounge in the lobby. It had a pit lizard vibe. He wore a white shirt that was missing three buttons and a mess of wiry chest hair—complete with potato chip crumbs—was on display as we approached him.

“Well, this is a surprise,” he drawled before sipping his cocktail. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Cora’s disgust with our surroundings was obvious. She was determined, though, when she sat across from him. “It’s time we came to an agreement, Chet.” She didn’t smile. “Do you have a private room you would like to have this conversation in?”

“Why would I want to be anywhere else?” He laughed like a loon. “This is my kingdom. As the king, this is my throne.” He took another sip. His eyes briefly moved to me, then he went back to looking at Cora. He seemed to be struggling to decide who was in charge. “What do you want?”

“This property,” Cora replied. She crossed her legs and was careful not to touch anything but the chair she’d settled in. She had an air of calm about her, but I could tell she was antsy under the surface. “I know you’ve entered into an agreement with Ryder. I’m here to tell you that whatever he’s promised, it’s not going to happen.”

Haskins narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I raised a warning finger and shook my head. “Don’t.” This was Cora’s show, but I wasn’t going to let him try to run her over with his attitude. “Just … don’t.”

He frowned at me, then went back to staring at Cora. “What agreement are you referring to?” His tone wasn’t deferential, but it wasn’t aggressive either.

“I don’t know what dirt you have on Ryder,” Cora replied. “I have a few theories, but I honestly don’t care. I’m sure he was paying you—that’s your thing, right?—and now he doesn’t have the money to follow through. He came up with some scam to build an amphitheater on this property, securing a huge payout for you and a partnership in the business as part of it. The thing is, he doesn’t have the authority to promise you anything.”

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