"Hit me with it." I sat up straighter, curious now.
I’d been the brother tasked with handling our business with the Hell’s Rebels’ MC, but this was one of the chores that had been spread among my siblings. Not that Lucie was all that difficult to deal with. Not like that fucker Wolfe, the MC’s Prez.
"It took long enough, and I apologize for it, but we’ve finally managed to get the shipment of ghost guns together."
"You don’t have to apologize," I rumbled. "I already told you my father was willing to wait for the merchandise to reach his direct specifications."
"Well, it’s finally happened. We’re going to be bringing them up to New York mid-January. I just need to know where you’d like them delivered."
"Can I get back to you with logistics?"
"Of course." She cleared her throat. "I wanted to get them to you faster just out of gratitude for what you did for Ink. I know your brother was injured, and it seemed... well, the delay pissed me off more than it did your family. I appreciate your patience."
"No need. I’m pretty sure Declan would thank Amaryllis and Ink right now. He wouldn’t have his family if it weren’t for that calamity."
"Calamity’s the word. Okay, get in touch with the specifics, and we’ll meet in January."
My lips curved slightly. "That a threat?"
"Maybe. I like to put a face to the name."
"You looking to add to that harem you’ve got?"
She cackled. "They’d chew you up, boy."
"You know you’re younger than me, don’t you?"
"Some souls were just born to be ancient, and that’s me. Comes with the name, I figure. Okay, Aidan, speak soon."
"Will do."
As we cut the call, I found myself skewered in place by Savannah’s curiosity, and I prepared myself for her questions.
Only, I didn’t get any.
Confused, I watched as she went about her task of unpacking her bags, and then, calm as you please, declared, "I need a room to work."
"Yes, your highness," I intoned quietly, mostly relieved that she wasn’t going to make me talk about a shipment of illegal guns.
Christ.
Just because she was under my roof didn’t mean she was within the umbrella of our business.
I clambered to my feet, hissing as my weight settled on my knees, then ignoring her pointed look, headed for the dining room. We never used it and the table was massive, large enough for three workspaces, never mind one.
After I showed her the space, she turned to me and asked, "It sounds as if your stay of grace is over."
"It couldn’t last forever. I was fortunate to have the time I did."
"I’m sorry if I triggered—"
"You weren’t the catalyst. Business stops for no one." I cast her a look. "Will you be all right in here?"
"Yes. I need to reschedule the meeting with Jen."
I nodded. "Just make it an hour or two earlier."
"You’d be okay with that?"
"Yes. We can eat there. I’ve had enough of Conor’s housekeeper’s food. She only makes pies."
"Pies?"
"Yeah. Pies. You know, pastry with a filling?" I joked, trying to make up for sniping at her earlier.
"That’s all she makes?"
"Variety isn’t Conor’s strong point. He’s getting better though. Our nephew, Shay, is making him try new stuff. It doesn’t always work. Con used to be obsessed with steak, but now it’s pies."
She laughed, and the sound filled me up like my insides were an empty well and she was rainfall.
The urge to go to her, to slip my hands around her waist and haul her into me was strong. I fought it though.
We might be weird together, might mean more than either of us knew how to deal with, but some things had been out of bounds for so long that this was going to be a hard habit to break.
Twenty-Two
Savannah
My feelings weren’t hurt.
They weren’t.
They—
Christ.
They so were.
Even after I unpacked and got myself settled in my makeshift office, and I’d proofread the four exposés I had written and planned to release over the following weeks, I was still butt hurt. Which was saying something because what these four bastards had done was a crime against humanity, so Aidan should have been tucked away at the back of my mind, not at the forefront.
I didn’t deal well with being butt hurt, so I decided to act on it instead and bought him an impromptu Christmas gift that was a silent ‘fuck you’ and had it shipped express.
Because I didn’t want to be dealing with my work over the holiday period, I also scheduled my blog posts to automatically go live over the next four days, settling on six AM, just in time for breakfast news.
Mostly that was a snub against TVGM who emailed me three times as I worked, among other networks and papers who’d somehow gotten a hold of my personal email address.
Deciding that the next time I saw Conor I was going to ask him if there was a way to block the people who’d emailed me thus far, somehow bypassing the spam filter, I finally remembered that I had to reschedule things with Jen.
Calling her because I didn’t understand the only messaging app on my phone, and I figured it was new to Jen too, I called her when I knew she was on her lunch break.
Crawford, Lewis and Jones was where we’d first met. She was my accountant’s assistant, and she’d complimented me on my shoes whenever I went in for a meeting. A mutual adoration for Louboutin had her triggering a friendship with me.
As someone who was naturally cautious around people because they tended to want to befriend me to get close to my dad, there was something deliciously artless about Jen. I wasn’t sure how she’d started working for the staid corporate firm, to be honest.
Knowing her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d sucked off her boss during the interview or something. There was a reason she’d said very little about the TVGM fallout, and I had to think that was how she’d gotten her job otherwise she’d have been all over the gossip like gonorrhea.
"Girl, please don’t be calling to cancel."
It was mean, but I laughed at her panic. "No, I’m not canceling."
"Thank God. I wanted to ask you something but I didn’t dare call—"
I arched a brow. "That’s not like you."
She huffed. "I’m scared, can’t you tell?"
"You don’t have to be scared. It’s only money. I’ll lend it to you if need be," I told her calmly.
"You told me that before but I don’t think it’s right to take money from friends."
I rolled my eyes at her obstinacy. "Okay, okay, we’ll see what happens but know the offer is there."
"I really appreciate it, Savannah. You’ve no idea."
My lips curved because I knew she meant it. She was a cat, but when it boiled down to it, a kindhearted and loyal one. "What did you want to ask me?"
"The jerk says he can’t meet me at eight."