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Corbin continues, “We only have a few weeks before this event takes place. We need to station security, backup. Not to mention that we need access. It’s crazy formal. Invitation only. We won’t even know exactly where it’s taking place until we’re on the list. All we have is the city.”
Drawing circles into Briar’s waist, I glance down at where she’s seated on my lap, playing Lily’s Garden. In the last fifteen minutes, she’s managed to finish something like twenty levels without losing a single heart. The feat is almost as impressive as her deeply bored expression, which suggests she’s busy taking notes.
I’m not even sure she’s paying attention.
Antonio, a capo in charge of keeping Veleno’s borders secure, confirms that he can offer enough men without compromising the integrity of our territory, but it won’t do us much good without invitations. A few more captains weigh in on what they can offer, but—again—nothing helps much without invitations.
Briar finishes another level, stretches her neck, and sighs. “I have a contact who can get us invitations.”
Corbin’s brows rise. “You do?”
“I know a Pratt.”
My men stiffen as wide eyes dart from one to another. Among them, Louis speaks up, “The Pratts are notoriously difficult to work with. They only care about one thing.”
“Money,” Corbin states. “And they get it in the ways we’ve decided are no longer acceptable.”
Antonio releases a tight breath and draws his fingers over his short beard. “I hesitate to broach any favors with them.”
A cool smile crosses Briar’s lips as she drops her attention to the next level of Lily’s Garden. “Don’t worry about it.”
Louis blusters. “Don’t worry about… Miss Rosanera, this is a matter of utmost importance.”
Antonio’s expression darkens. “Putting ourselves on Pratt radars while we are recovering from recent changes is unwise.”
Briar lifts her hips, retrieves her personal phone from her capris pocket, and unlocks it. After a few moments, she shows me the screen.
Briar: Hey, Spartan. Don’t ask questions. I need two VIP tickets to that thing happening in Pittsburgh in a few weeks. Can you hook me up?
<3Spartan<3: Yup. <3
Briar: <3 <3 <3
Raising a brow at the emoji choice, I mumble, “She’s already done it.”
While I’m deducing that Spartan must be the youngest Pratt son, Briar plucks her phone from my fingers. “I’ve already done it.”
Corbin winces. “What do we owe them?”
Briar shrugs. “A drink, maybe?” Cocking her head back against my chest, she scans the room. “Boys, please. This is called having friends. I highly recommend trying it sometime.”
“Well then…” Corbin clears his throat and turns toward Salvatore. “If that hurdle is tackled, do we have a progress report from you?”
Business drones on from there, and Briar excuses herself forty minutes before the end so she can make it to another meeting with Aster at The Giungla. Shortly after dismissal, while I’m contemplating what paperwork to start on next, she texts me.
From my own iPad.
To assure me of three things:
First, she’s hit level one hundred in Lily’s Garden. Second, the invitations just came through, so we’re all set. And third, her meeting with Aster is going to take a while, so she won’t be back in time for dinner.
Staring at Rowan’s iPad in the address line, I message back that the second I get my tablet back from her, I’m deleting her game. Also, she really shouldn’t be messaging my personal phone with any business-relevant information.
She assures me I’ll never see my iPad again, meetings and party invites aren’t illegal, and our FBI agent is probably more proud of her accomplishments in Lily’s Garden than I am—which means I’m doing a crap job of love-bombing her.
I’m sighing and cutting my fingers through my hair before I realize that while most of my men filed out of the room after the meeting ended, Corbin is still here.
Pocketing my phone, I meet his eyes. “Was there something else?”
