Then he’d asked Hunter’s opinion on small ops he and his friends were running, “Just to get your perspective.” As in “This guy here is about to evict all of his Black tenants so he can ‘gentrify.’ What can we do to his bank account that would send the right message?”
They’d ended up doing the simplest thing: broadcasting the guy’s ties to the KKK. All of his tenants of color had moved out en masse, from all of his holdings, and he’d gone broke.
Hunter hadn’t been needed, but he’d appreciated the discussion.
That had changed when Felix was under fire. Josh had brought Hunter in no-holds-barred, and Hunter had gotten the feeling that Josh hadn’t been protecting his friends from Hunter, but protecting Hunter from his friends.
Until now, when it came to Grace. And Hunter was suddenly very much aware of the damage—all the damage—that watching his previous lover die on the job had done to him.
Josh regarded him levelly. “What are your intentions?” he asked.
“Intentions? What are anybody’s intentions?”
“No bullshit, Hunter. We’ve seen it brewing for almost two months, ever since you guys met. But I wasn’t sure what would come of it. Now I know shit goes south, and Grace is a handful, but you could be the only person to take him seriously as a partner since fucking ever. So I’d really love to know what you want from him.”
Hunter blew out a breath and remembered the feel of Grace, quiet for once, stretched out alongside him. Saw his eyes in the bathroom as Hunter cared for his feet. Heard him talk about himself as though he were expendable.
“I want him to know he’s important,” Hunter said at last, and was met with an impeccably arched eyebrow.
“Welcome to the club,” Josh said, and there was pain in his eyes—something unfathomable that Hunter suddenly felt very much like he needed to know.
“What… what is his deal, anyway?”
At that moment they heard several clicks in their earbuds and saw Tazo and Verhoeven emerging from the coffee shop.
“And I told him,” Josh said, in the middle of a conversation they’d never had, “that if you’re going to bet on sports, you at least need to know who’s blowing your bookie, you know what I mean?”
Hunter grunted and rolled his eyes. “Serves him right. Nobody bets against the home team.”
“Julia and Molly are en route,” Stirling said in their ears. “And they’re plugged in as well.”
“Roger that,” Josh said softly, smiling at Tazo and his friend as they walked past, saluting them with what was left of his coffee.
They waved almost dismissively, probably thinking Josh was a spoiled start-up entrepreneur—he had the rich, slick look and the youthful face.
They’d be fools, Hunter thought, watching them walk toward their hotel. They could be excused for thinking that, but they’d be fools. Anybody who underestimated Josh Salinger would be in a world of hurt.
THE WOMEN arrived at different times, Julia first, in her black wig, asking Josh and Hunter politely if she could use their table as they rose.
“Absolutely,” Josh said dryly. “Enjoy.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Julia gushed. “I just love watching the floatplanes take off from the marina. Enjoy your day!” She gave them a little wave, and Josh sighed. As they walked away, she said into her com, “I left an annotated list, and you need to get everything, because Molly and I are going out with Grace and Artur tonight, and we have to look like spoiled heiresses.”
“There’s a stretch,” Josh goaded.
“Be a good boy and mummy will give you a cookie,” his mother sang, and Hunter snickered. Yeah, everybody envied Josh his family, but there was always a price.
To her credit, they didn’t see Molly, but they heard her setting up on the other side of the hotel.
“Oh, look. I’ve got a coffee shop here too. Hey, look, a walk-up window. Wow. Cookies. Whatever shall I choose, here, all by myself, because you two yahoos couldn’t be bothered to hide your damned selves.”
“They literally walked right toward us,” Josh told her. “I told them they might see you out and about today, so be sure to smile if they recognize you.”
“I’m in costume,” Molly said. “Black wig in a ponytail, boy’s clothes. They might not—”
“Ditch the wig, forget the clothes, and be prepared to be who they saw last night,” Hunter told her, serious as death. “These guys are pros, Molly. I know you’re good, but you need to be as much you as possible.”
“Do you want me with you?” Josh asked. “It would be plausible, and we could back up Mom.”
“Dammit,” Molly muttered. “I forgot they saw us last night. Yeah, Josh—I’m on the other side of the hotel. Seriously, the cookies look fantastic. Buy me one while I’m fixing myself in the bathroom.”
“Can do. Oh, Hunter called me Jay, so that’s my cover.”
“That’s original,” she said. “Hurry.”
Josh looked at Hunter and sighed. “Go as slow as he’ll let you,” he said. “Make it special. Even if you crash and burn, he needs to know what it’s like when it’s real.”
Hunter nodded, grateful that everybody was pretending they couldn’t hear that, before he turned around and walked away.
Not pretending too hard, though. He was almost to his hotel when Julia said, “Perhaps you and Grace can do my shopping, Hunter. Stirling has my list. And maybe we can meet up for lunch if this is resolved. Artur’s going to be doing business online most of the morning. I’m sure Grace won’t mind.”
Clever, Julia. Clever.
And very much appreciated.
“We’d love to,” he said, meaning it. It was an excuse to be with Grace during the day, even if it was on the job. Hunter felt the spring in his step as he hurried down the marina. There were some bennies, perhaps, to working with a crew who knew you.
Taking Flight
“DID YOU have a good day?” Artur asked as they were taking a Lyft from the hotel to the restaurant.
Grace tugged at the cuffs of his silk mandarin-collared black shirt. “Yes, Dance Master,” he said, hating that his eyes darted left and a foolish little smile tugged at his lips. Silly and transparent—two things Grace had never thought he’d be.
“How was your young man?” Artur asked, keeping his voice proper and polite.
Grace bit his lip and tried for dignity. “Amusing,” he said, although his brain was screaming things like “kind” and “attentive” and “funny.”
“Amusing?” Artur gave him a severe look. “He did not appear so amused yesterday when you had injured yourself. How are your feet, by the way?”
Grace felt the flush creeping up his neck. “Fine, Dance Master,” he muttered.
Hunter hadn’t let him walk too much. Sprints across the crowded city—which normally Grace would have enjoyed—had been replaced with car rides. They’d gone to the shopping district, replete with high-end stores, to buy Julia and Molly their desired dresses, shoes, and accessories.