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“For what reason? I called you in after your morning run.” He throws a folder onto the coffee table in front of me.
“I had an appointment.”
Evers arches his eyebrows at my terseness. Sending the text to Lauren that I couldn’t meet up this morning pissed me off, so my tone is shorter than usual.
“At six? The girl, then?”
“None of your business.”
The folder has new tests. “You want me to take these to a print shop and watch over the production so they aren’t stolen?” The exams are in two weeks, so I guess there’s some urgency but not enough to require a sunrise meeting.
“No. I want you to get your friend to steal them and hand them over to Roberta.”
I toss the file down. “No.”
Evers furrows his brows. “No?”
“No. I’m not making Lauren a target of a rich crazy woman.”
“She’s already the target of the rich crazy woman. Having her deliver these tests will ensure no one else becomes hurt.”
“Just Lauren.”
“You’ve locked her down by now, right? So she’s got plenty of protection.”
“The first line of defense is not placing the body you’re protecting in harm’s way. The suggestion kind of pisses me off, if I’m gonna be honest.” I say it as mildly as possible, but Evers knows I’m serious.
He’s silent for a moment and then says, “Fair enough. I’m trying to get Vasey out of harm’s way, and it’s not right to ask you to put Lauren there in her place.”
“Why don’t you give Roberta the test results yourself? Or, hell, just skip all those intermediate steps and just pass the shithead on to Harvard.”
“Roberta’s son has a history of failing grades. A C is a remarkable outcome for him. The board will immediately want to review his test results, and there will need to be proof that he worked out the solutions on his own. The essay portion will need to be in his writing, and he will have to show his work in his own hand in the math portion.”
“I’ll help you where I can, but Lauren isn’t part of any solutions.” I get to my feet. “Call me if you need me.”
I spend the rest of the morning with a lawyer going over Mick’s situation. The lawyer has a lot of suggestions, and all of them are pretty good. I’m eager to share this with Lauren.
When I arrive at the salon, the goth girl squints up at me in confusion with her fingers poised over her keyboard. “Sir, your appointment is not for another three weeks.”
“I know. I’m here to pick up Lauren.”
The black brows shoot up. “Are you guys a thing now?”
I plant an elbow on the marble counter top. “Yup.”
“Since when? The hair cut?” The receptionist has abandoned all pretense of working. We’re gossip pals now.
“We met before that, and I came here because of her.”
“Tell me more.” The girl’s enthralled.
I’m happy to mark my territory. Everyone should know Lauren is mine and they should keep their hands to themselves. “Ran into her while she was on the job and knew she was the one. Basically love at first sight.”
Lauren bursts through the curtain separating the front desk from the waiting room. “Let’s go. I’m starved,” she shouts. She grabs my arm and drags me out of the salon and toward the elevator. She punches the elevator buttons with way more force than necessary.
“What’s the problem?”
Without looking at me, she says, “I think we should break up.”
