Page 73 of The Renter
“You can drop the whole earnest thing. You’re with Adam. You’re set.”
“Is that howyoufeel? Riding his coattails for a nice check.” I’m curious if this is his way of testing me or if it’s actually how he thinks of me.
He laughs, holding back a smirk, hopefully impressed by my dig. “You’ve got balls.” He takes a pull straight from the whiskey bottle. “You’ll need them if you’re serious about being in our inner circle.”
Extending the bottle toward me, I take a big gulp. “Be real, Greg,” I press. “Why don’t you like me?”
“You’re twenty-five.” He laughs. “You’re a killer. I like you.” He takes another pull. “I’m worried about my man Adam. He doesn’t need to be jumping into a relationship right now.”
Either Greg is a no-bullshit guy, or he’s drunk. Either way, I know where I stand with Adam’s number two. I can’t help myself and ask another lingering question. “So, what’s your read on Declan?”
“Don’t get me started.” Greg rolls his eyes. “We never should have made him an owner.”
Owner?I want to furrow my brows but consciously keep my face neutral. I thought Harris Ventures was one of his investors. Greg’s implying it’s the other way around.
“Last question, then I will leave you.”
“There are three women in this room. Don’t leave me.” He laughs.
“Ha. Ha,” I mock. “Do you think crypto will ever be used as currency, or is it a fancy way to launder money?”
Greg’s smile grows on his face. “Stop being so pretty and smart.”
I think back to my conversation with Adam about money and its origins. He doesn’t care. How much of a shell game is Harris Ventures? Should I care? Does it matter? Taking my cue to end my chat with Greg, I steal the bottle he keeps pulling from. He can thank me in the morning.
Walking back to Adam, he wraps his arm around my waist, not interrupting his conversation with another forty-something guy.
“We’re paying close attention to that too. Can you imagine if we had to report how much we owned?” the guy asks.
“Let’s make sure we don’t have to,” Adam says, and the guy walks away. Then, he winks at me. “What were you and Greg so enthralled in conversation about?”
“Money laundering.”
His hand slides down to my ass, and I flinch. “Is it that sore?” Adam asks in a whisper, and I nod. The cocky fucking smirk that grows on his face. “I can’t wait to get you alone.” He lightly spanks my sore cheek, and I nudge my shoulder into him.
“Do you need to network more?” I ask, liking the idea of going back to our chalet.
“No. But you could.”
“Mr. Harris,” a guy my age nervously says. “I kinda snuck in here for the chance to pitch you about my startup.”
Adam smiles, like this happens often.
“Pitch me in three sentences.”
“I only need one,” he says, too confident. “Carbon credits traded on the blockchain.”
“What’s your stance on effective altruism?” Adam asks. I can tell he’s intrigued by this guy.
“It’s bullshit.”
Adam chuckles and waves over Allison. “Send over your pitch deck, and we’ll chat.”
Allison asks him for his email when Adam whispers, “I want to be in the hot tub with you.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Perfect.” He places a kiss on my neck and then makes eye contact with someone. “Ahh,” he groans, staring at a guy intently. “I need to talk with him.”
