Page 9 of The Deception: Hercules Valentine and I
Clogged-up
Paisley Grove
To be careful, I ask that we take a taxi to her apartment in Greenwich Village. Even after she explains that it’s an easy and usually drama-free ride on the subway, I insist. I still have to limit my area of movement. New York is small. I can run into anyone who might recognize me at any moment. I can’t risk it, especially after today’s win.
On the way to her apartment, I keep Lake talking about her exhibit at the Skylord on Thursday. “It’s being sponsored by the Friends of Art Association. It’s sort of a big deal. I’m, um…” She searches my eyes as if she wants to say something but is being cautious.
“You’re what?” I ask.
“You’ll see.” Then she abruptly grabs my arm. “I forgot to tell you—Mason said he’ll come.”
I smile at her. If only I could tell her how he’s fighting for her job.Which reminds me… “You had some really good user-interface ideas today. How about you assemble a team and design all the GUIs forShop-a-Lotfrom top to bottom?
She jerks her head back. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
She grunts thoughtfully. I thought she’d be more celebratory. “I've always wanted to do that,” she says with an interesting amount of control. “Jeff never let me, though. The guy was such a controlling douchebag. He wanted all the glory for himself. He never used our team the way you do. And the way you didn't lick Hercules Valentine’s ass when he came—believe me, everyone noticed.”
“Noticed what?” I ask, keeping myself from panicking.I have to stop feeling this way every time Hercules is mentioned.
“That you showed him we're all in this together.” She then gives a litany of horrible things the guy who used to have my job did. The longer I listen, the more I wonder how he’s working out at GIT. Max poached him to get me into his position.
“I don’t think he liked women. The guy had serious mommy issues. Once I blew up at him and shouted, ‘It’s not my fault. It’s her fault.’”
I laugh my head off. “What did he say?”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Huh?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said—‘Huh?’”
I laugh louder.
* * *
A guywith shaggy blond hair sits on the steps, watching us and everything else that’s happening in front of Lake’s building. He’s wearing a huge bomber jacket that makes him look like a gray marshmallow plopped in the snow.
“Nice digs, LK. A whole taxi? You’re moving up in the world.”
“What are you doing out here, Davey? You’re going to catch pneumonia.”
“Maybe that’s what I want. The body’s weak, but the brain’s alive. The best high.”
Lake rolls her eyes. “You’re crazy.”
“And your friend is hot.”
“Down, boy,” she says as we scamper past him. “Plus, she’s into a demigod.”
I crush my face into a frown as we step into the warm lobby. “What?”
She looks back at me with a smirk as I follow her up a flight of stairs. “Are you seriouslywhating me?”
“Well, yeah. What demigod am I into?”
“The sexual tension between you and Hercules Valentine is in our faces like tits on a balcony during Mardi Gras. Don’t say you haven’t noticed?”
