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I glance at Ash, whose attention is fixed on the man, but he doesn’t step in.
Petra’s face remains neutral. “Sure.”
Greg takes a breath, steeling himself. “We need help. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
Petra plants both palms on the polished wood and leans closer. “What’s going on?”
His shoulders hunch. “I can’t talk about it here. But it’s about the summer fund. The whole thing’s gone.”
He sets the folder down. “I don’t trust the cops with this, not in Brickwell. They’ll write it off as community risk.”
Petra pushes the lowball toward him. “Do you have any idea who took it?”
Greg’s jaw tightens. “If I did, I’d handle it myself.”
Petra purses her lips, then says, “Rowan will figure out what to do. I’ll have Ghost give you a call.”
Greg swallows the vodka in one go, wheezes a little, and sets the glass down. “Thanks.” He doesn’t acknowledge Ash or me, a few stools down from him. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Not a bother,” Petra says.
He leaves, his coat swirling as he shoulders out into the cold, folder tight to his chest.
Petra lets her head hang for a second before she pivots to me as if nothing happened. “You want another, Lee?”
“Sure,” I say and reach for my glass to finish my first one.
She mixes the whiskey sour on autopilot, not watching the measure, and sets it in front of me with a coaster this time.
As she wanders away, I turn to Ash and take a risk. “Do you know what that was about?”
He tilts his head, deciding how much to tell me. “Missing money.”
“Yeah, but…” I scan the bar before leaning closer. “Shouldn’t he be reporting it to the cops?”
Ash snorts and rolls his eyes. “The cops around here are all on someone’s payroll. If you want guaranteed results, you have to go outside the box.”
I raise my brows, feigning surprise. “And what, the Blue Note offers…loans?”
Ash snorts. “Not money. Solutions.”
When I continue to stare in confusion, he elaborates. “Sometimes Rowan handles it himself, sometimes he has someone else take care of it. Doesn’t matter who does it, as long as it gets done.”
“And the cost?” I ask, careful to keep my tone neutral.
Ash studies me. “You think it’s about leverage, like the movies?”
“Isn’t it?” I say, a hint of challenge slipping through.
He shakes his head. “If you can pay, you pay. If you can’t, you owe a favor. Not a blood debt or anything. But the next time Rowan needs something, you pick up the phone. It’s a trade.”
“But what if you can’t pay?” I ask, digging for more. “Or the favor is too much?”
Ash shrugs, an elegant roll of the shoulders. “Nobody asks for more than you can handle. That’s not the point.” He stabs a cherry with his straw and brings it to his lips. “It’s about keeping things even.”
I think of my family’s operations and the way Alexei would calibrate every debt, never letting a single one go unpaid. He would burn a person to the ground before forgiving a debt. This is… different.
Petra comes back down the bar. “You two need a refill?”
