Page 58 of Sinful Like Us
“Nice work,” Akara says, and once Quinn enters comms, Akara tears him a new asshole. I tune out the reprimand.
In front of me, Tom is busy texting, but I catch Eliot’s attention. “Security found Luna.”
Tom looks up. “Where?”
“Shake Shack. Her phone died.”
Eliot runs a hand through his hair, then he grins. “Tell her bodyguard to tell Luna that we’d like to place an order.”
Tom’s face lights. While Jane powers through eating, I use comms to place two orders of cheese fries. This is the most normal, routine thing they’ve asked me to do all night.
Letting go of my mic, I help Jane who struggles with the second to last heart. She starts sweating, her eyes downcast while she concentrates on chewing.
I hand her a napkin, and we exchange a knowing look. If she needs to spit the last one out and hide it, I’ll help her cheat.
Partners in crime,she once called us.
That’s not long gone.
Eyes brightening, Jane nods in agreement.
Tom groans. “Comeon.” He crashes back against the booth, exasperated. He drops his phone on the table. “My band,” he explains to me.
“They’ve been auditioning new drummers,” Eliot clarifies. “And Tom refuses to pick thebestdrummer for the job.”
“He’s just the hottest,” Tom refutes.
Eliot mouths to me,he’s the best.
“Can you play without a drummer?” I ask since I’ve seen some two-man alternative bands before.
“I wish,” Tom sighs. “Our label wantsthreemembers.” Everyone’s attention veers to Jane as she gags again.
I cover her mouth with one hand, and grab the wine with the other. I whisper in her ear, “You’re okay?”
She nods.
“Kick my foot if you want the napkin.” I’ll need to create a diversion.
She nods again. But she’s not whacking my shin. For Jane, it’s a last resort. I lower my hand from her mouth. Quickly, she swallows down the organ with a swig of wine and then picks up the last heart.
I draw attention off her and ask Beckett, “How do you like your new bodyguard?”
“O’Malley?” Beckett shrugs, eyes dropping. “He’s fine.” He sucks on his cigarette.
I would’ve neverassigned him to Beckett’s detail. It has nothing to do with his skills as a bodyguard. We all know O’Malley thinks Donnelly is white trash, and this transfer is just another slap to SFO.
My fault.
I massage my strained deltoid.
Charlie is watching me.
I nod to him. Confused about whether he hates me or likes me—two extremes. That’s what I feel from Charlie, and it’s strange terrain.
He just smiles, then looks to Beckett. His twin brother passes the burning cigarette to Charlie. He takes a drag and blows smoke to the side before handing it back.
Jane gulps more wine. “Done!” She pounds the bottle on the table while her brothers applaud. My lip lifts and a bright smile overtakes her features. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
