Page 172 of Lost
Rolling my eyes, and I shake my head.
Me
And your reassurance that you won’t stiff me?
Unknown
The first part of the information you need is that this event has been moved up to next month.
“Auction moved up,” I grunt, relaying the information as I get the information I need to send this person money.
Me
Go on. You have what you want, please continue.
Unknown
So polite and yet…still so impatient.
“Dude, I’m about to reach through the fucking computer and strangle you with your intestines,” I growl.
“I think you may need anger management,” Remy murmurs.
“If she does, I definitely do,” Mal says, coming out with trays of food for the dining room table. “Let her work.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Unknown
You’re no fun. I think you need an enema to help with how uptight you are. April twenty-sixth is the new date of the auction and it’ll take place at 2490 Tripter Street, Tybee Island. Madam Clara decided that Savannah wasn’t the right place for her auction.
My growl is loud as I snarl at the damn computer. I’ve heard that Savannah is full of mafia activity. Cian has spoken highly ofPack Tremaine, which means they aren’t sex traffickers. No one would think to look for a human auction in a beach town.
“This twatmuffin is going to be trouble,” I curse. I give them the details of the auction as I sign off with my contact, fuming about what I’ve learned.
“I need to go,” Lars says, looking torn.
“Barnacles,” my sister says softly, drawing his attention back to her.
“We have to go,” he amends. “That means we’re going to have to leave things unfinished…”
“I multitask really well,” I reassure them. “We’ll get things worked out over the next month, and then I’ll make sure things continue moving. Nova, the sale for the Tider place goes through this week, and then the construction people can begin working to ensure that the space is what you want the brownstone to be.”
“We’ll make her delegate,” Remy promises.
“Come eat,” Mal insists, and we all begin to gravitate toward the table.
There’s never a boring moment here.
TYDE
I’m deep in my thoughts as we walk back to the house, and I don’t notice that Caleb and Lars are boxing me in on either side until their broad shoulders are bumping against me.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Nova asks.
My gaze narrows on her because she knows what I’m thinking about.
“I may know, but they don’t,” I say.
