Page 51 of Sinful Seduction
“Stop talking about me.” Aubree pushes through my door and cruelly plops a mug on my desk. “Drink it. It’s good for you.” Then she looks at Raquel and lifts a single, questioning brow. “What do you want?”
“Two plus ones for the wedding. I double booked and don’t wanna break any hearts.”
“Sure.” Aubree sips her tea, swallowing the disgusting liquid with an obnoxiousahhh. “Though I accept no responsibility for whatever drama comes from your situation. Only a truly disorganized hoe would bring two dates to one event.”
“One is for my sister.” She purses glinting, red lips. “Eliza’s in town for the weekend, and since I hardly ever get to see her, there’s no chance in hell I’ll tell her not to come, nor am I going out for the night and leavingher at my apartment alone. But I’m also not dipping out on your wedding. Thus…” She flashes two fingers. “I’ll bring her and Taylor and call it an excellent weekend spent.”
“Normal, sensible human beings visit their siblings so they can spend time with them,” I argue. “Quality time. Quiet time. Tossing a formal event in her face at the eleventh hour when she probably doesn’t have a dress and doesn’t want to socialize will ensure she never visits again.”
“That’s ayouthing, Chief.” Raquel pushes off the chair and shakes platinum blonde hair back, so the ends tickle her white coat and stretch almost as far as her shoulder blades. “Some of us actually enjoy putting on a pretty dress and slapping on a bit of makeup. Eliza’s entire job and personality are wrapped up in sweat, boys, and weird testosterone competitions. She lives in a town smaller than this street. This one.” She gestures toward my windows. “Plainview has fewer residents than five Copeland City blocks. She’s quite thrilled at the idea of going out, hoeing up, and meeting new people.”
“Runs in the family,” Aubree quips playfully. “Hoes are gonna hoe.”
Raquel makes a face, childish and silly. “Taylor and I have been in a committed relationship for, like…” She counts on her fingers. “I don’t even know! Six months? Eight? Sadly, my hoe days have come to an end.” Beaming, she turns on her heels and strides across my office. “We’re good with the plus two?”
Aubree hums, inhaling the scent of her tea. “Mmhm.”
“Great. And Chief?” She grabs my door and swings it wide. “Anything you need from me? You’ve had a shitty couple of days, so if there’s anything I can do to help…?”
“You already helped by closing out rounds yesterday and doing them again this morning.” I slide my tea away,knowingI won’t bring the filth anywhere near my mouth. “You did well. Keep working your list and whip Doctor Xavier into the next gear if he has one. The faster we work, the sooner we can sign them off and finalize a bunch of pended cases. Other than that?—”
“Keep you from killing reporters and documentary makers.” She brings her hand up and salutes. “Got it, Chief. You know where to find me.” She strides through the door and makes a beeline for the elevator, and while she walks, she shouts something a little unintelligible and definitely inappropriate across the entirety of the ninth floor, eliciting a giggle from our boyish Doctor Kirk.
The cops have Clay. We have James Kirk—not of the Star Trek fandom.
“She’s a lot.” Aubree turns and sits back in her chair, eyeing my untouched tea unhappily. “You should drink that.”
“Tastes like ass.”
Her lips curl, taunting and playful, behind the lip of her mug. “The fact you know what that tastes like surprises me. But you do you, Chief. Freak on. Still, drink it.”
“No.” When my desk phone trills, I snatch it up and bring it to my ear. “This is Chief Mayet.”
“Seraphina Lewis is on line three, Chief.”
Frowning, I swing my gaze to Aubree’s. “I’ll take it, thanks.” I press my finger over the phone cradle and end our call, then I select line three and connect the next. “Fifi?”
“Justin Lawrence, actually.” The mayor chuckles, relaxing back at his desk—probably—and unbuttoning his suit coat to get comfortable—I assume. “Figured I’d increase my chances of speaking to you if you thought it was her.”
Jackass. “I would’ve answered if you’d said it was you.”Probably.Slumping back in my chair, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I wasn’t ignoring you earlier, by the way. I only just walked into my office five minutes ago. What’s up? And why haven’t you fired me yet?”
“Why haven’t I…” He stumbles over his words. “Fired you? Why would I?”
“I’m belligerent at best. Unkind at a base level. Besides, it’s nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, and I just admitted to onlyjustgetting to the office. Those are sackable offenses.”
“Youwantme to fire you?”
“I—”
“Oh, I see. You know I won’t accept your resignation, I won’t let you brush me off, and I won’t allow you to avoid me. So now you figure if you suck bad enough, I might boot you. Tell me, Chief. Have you considered discussing your rampant self-sabotaging behaviors with a therapist? Is that why you pushed my daughter off a building?”
“I didn’t push her! She fell. And those stitches in her leg? That was her own fault, too.”
“Stitches?” he snaps. “What stitches?”
“Hmm…?” I reach for my tea and drag it forward, muscle memory, surely, as my body craves caffeine, and a mug is a mug.My brain is tricking me. “I don’t know what stitches you’re talking about. So if you’re not calling to fire me, I ask again: what’s up?”
“Just checking in, mostly.” He settles back in his chair, curling the endsof his evil-man mustache.He doesn’t actually have a mustache. “Yesterday was rough for you, and I already received word that you were at the hospital earlier—which flies in the face of yourjust got to workstory, by the way. I heard Steve Morris is doing okay-ish. He’s coming along.”
