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“Gavin, you don’t have to?—”
“Yeah. I do. I’m coming with you.”
I take longer than I need to clean up and compose myself. It’s stupid, I know, pretending that I’m not within walking distance to the house, but I have to keep up appearances. She doesn’t need to know where my backup stash is.
A half hour later, we're loaded up in the truck.
I can tell she's nervous, a little shaken up. She’s excited, too. Can’t blame her. I’d be excited if I was about to get out from under $20K owed to some shady people.
I only hope that it goes that smoothly. Things like this rarely do.
“It's just up here on the left.”
“Right. And who's your boss again?” Playing like I don’t already know makes me feel like an asshole, but I don’t want her looking over her shoulder for me if she knows I’ve been tailing her.
“His name is Mr. DeSante. That’s all I’m allowed to say. Please be nice.”
“Me? I’m always nice.”
She gives me a disparaging look and I fight down a smile.
Evan DeSante is the last person I would have put her in touch with, personally, but I’m not about to tell Hellena how to go about paying off her debt. If I had a better option for that kind of money, I would have offered it.
I am curious how she got his number.
I’ve heard of the “favor” dealer.
From everything I’ve heard, he sounds like a real shitbag. Not like I have much room to talk.
We’ve never crossed paths in my line of work, but let’s say I’m pretty sure he has someone just like me on payroll.
The office is what I would expect. Looks like the kind of place you can scrub and vacate at a moment’s notice if need be. Probably secret doors, breakaway walls.
This town is full of places like it.
“Hey, Geneviv, is he in?”
“Yes. He said to send you in. Just you.”
“Tough. Gavin is helping me today, so he’ll have to deal with it.”
The older woman is elegant, put together like an ex-model or movie star, just starting to gray at the temples like me, but about ten years older. She wears it well.
“Always pushing the buttons, you are,” she mutters under her breath as she buzzes us in.
Inside the decadent office, I assess the threat—I mean, Hellena’s boss—standing with his back to us on the phone.
Black hair.
Tailored suit.
Reminds me of Damon the way he carries himself.
Cocky.
Highly aware of his good looks. And he is damn good looking.
That’s where the comparison ends.
