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He isn’t fast to jolt awake like most people would when caught sleeping at a time they should be awake.
Slowly, he angles his head in my direction. Bloodshot eyes stare at me as he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Missed a little right there,” I say, wiping at the left side of my mouth.
Like most people do, he reaches his hand up and swipes at the right since it’s the mirrored side I’m motioning to.
“Your other side,” I mutter, waiting for him to swipe it clean.
I swear the man has really let himself go these last couple of years.
“We don’t have an appointment,” he says, sounding annoyed.
“From looking at that calendar up front, you don’t have any appointments all week.”
“Can I help you?” he snaps.
“I fucking doubt it,” I mutter. “But I am going to give you a chance to correct your awful behavior from this weekend.”
“I already apologized to Hayes for puking in his truck.”
“I’m not here about Hayes. I’m here for how you treated Claire Kennedy.”
“Is this because you’re sleeping with her?”
“She’s under a mountain of credit card debt,” I say, rather than breathing life into gossip that doesn’t concern him. “I need to know what can be done about it.”
“She can pay her bills.” His answer is simple, but it reeks of his dislike for women. “There’s no recourse for the SGLI. It was his last wish, although there are much more deserving animals than fucking wombats.”
I scrub my face with my hands.
“Besides, what does it say about Claire if the man gave his money to rodents rather than leaving it to his wife?”
“Firstly, wombats aren’t rodents. They’re marsupials,” I say, holding up my hand with one finger pointed to the ceiling. “Secondly, say one more negative thing about any woman in this town and I’ll punch you in the throat.”
Barrett snaps his head back like I’ve already hit him. “You are sleeping with her. Damn, man. Don’t let some—”
“Barrett,” I warn. “I won’t tell you again.”
Silence spreads between the two of us, but when he opens his mouth again, he shifts gears.
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Can you set up some sort of payout?”
“No,” he says instantly. “There’s no money. I never took you for slow, Walker, but really.”
“I’ll give you money.”
“Give her the money. If you filter it through my office, then I’m going to attach fees to it.”
“She’d never take money from me.”
He sits back further in his chair. “Impossible. All women—”
He snaps his mouth shut when I lean forward.
“I need you to make it look like some sort of trust you discovered.”
