“What a small world, Trip,” Sheila Chandra said with the honeyed tones of Georgia. She looked back and forth between me and my ex-client.
“Sheila is going to be running for the seat you’re so graciously vacating, Trip,” I said. “I’m glad we can count on your support.
Trip shot me a parting look with red-rimmed eyes and said nothing as he marched out of my office.
Sheila turned to me, eyebrows high. “I think I’m gonna need an explanation…and a drink.”
A knock at my office door dragged me out of my never-ending inbox. I looked up to see Lina on the other side of the glass. It was after six. The city outside my windows lit up the night sky. Most of the staff had gone home for the day, but I still had hours of catching up thanks to my time in Knockemout.
I gestured her inside.
“Is it done?” I asked, firing off the reply and opening the next message.
“Yes.”
“Good. Get out. I’m busy.”
She ignored the command and dropped down in the chair across from me. “How did it go with Chandra?”
I took off my reading glasses, resigning myself to an unwanted conversation.
“Fine.” The woman had accused me of Machiavellian-level manipulations, which I took as a compliment. Then she’d insisted on taking some time to consider my proposal that would have her taking Trip’s seat before making the run for higher office. The fact that she didn’t immediately jump at my offer assured me I’d made the right decision. She’d poll higher with younger voters, do more for her constituents, and wouldn’t fuck around with a golden opportunity like her predecessor had.
She would see my offer for what it was: a chance to finally do the work she’d always wanted.
“What’s your end game?” Lina demanded.
“That’s an awfully personal question for someone who doesn’t officially work for me.”
“Humor me. Today alone, you forced one of your own clients to resign the seat that you won him and made him do the walk of shame past the replacement you personally chose. Then you had me deliver an envelope full of cash to a sex worker who looks like she’s barely old enough to vote and opened the door of a very expensive, gated home in Georgetown.”
“Is there a question in there?”
“I ran the address,” she said, pausing to admire the engagement ring on her left hand.
Of course she had. “Is there a point to this?”
“It took quite a bit of digging. But it appears that that big, beautiful brick house in the nice, quiet neighborhood is a halfway house for victims of domestic abuse and sex trafficking. It also appears to be owned by Yoshino Holdings, a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of this very consulting group.”
It was annoying how good she was at her job.
“I’m still waiting for your point,” I said.
“I can’t tell if you’re a good guy or a bad guy.”
“Does it matter?”
She looked me straight in the eye. “I think it does to both of us. Are you just making power moves to remind people you’re a big, strong man who needs to be feared? Or are you moving pieces around on the world’s biggest chess board for the greater good?”
“I attempted to hire you for your brain. Why don’t you use it and tell me what you think?”
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I think you are putting friendly people in positions of power and not just because they pay you to. Sheila Chandra is an elementary school principal. She doesn’t have pockets deep enough to pay your fees. You don’t just give Trip and his fat wallet the boot, you destroy the man’s career, citing the fact that he lied to you. But I think it’s more than that. I think you don’t like bad men in positions of power. Which goes against the reputation you’ve built for being terrifying, ruthless, and maybe even a little evil.”
I opened my hands. “What can I say? I’m a complicated man. You should go home to Nash.”
“He’s working late tonight. If I’m going to come on board, I want to know what you want out of all this. Are you hoping to get a U.S. President in your pocket?”
“Is that what you think?”
“On the surface, that’s what it looks like. But I wonder if you’re on some solitary quest to force the world to become a better place.”
“Don’t mistake me for some kind of hero.”
“Oh, I’m not. Let’s not forget the trail of ruined lives you leave behind you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t ruin any life that doesn’t deserve to be ruined.” At least I tried not to.
“But you take great pleasure in ruining the ones that do.”
“I do.”
Lina cocked her head and grinned. “Guess I kind of like that about you.”
“I’m delighted you approve,” I said dryly.
She gave me another long, assessing look and then nodded. “Fine. I’ll take the job at ten percent more than you offered since Nash and I are building a house and I want a closet the size of a basketball court. But if you start turning toward the dark side or whatever, I’m out of here.”
“Fine. Ten percent. No dark side. I’ll talk to HR. Now leave so I can focus on ruining more lives.”
“There’s something else I want.”
“What?” I asked, exasperated.
“I want in on the secret Hugo investigation.”
“What secret Hugo investigation?” I hedged.
“The one I’m not supposed to know about. Because of Hugo, I almost lost Nash, and he almost lost me. I want that man in a cell or a box. I’m not picky. But I do want to help put him there.”
“Deal. Now leave me alone.”
“One more question. Why are you such a dick to Sloane?”
“Go away.”
“And why is she a dick to you?” she asked, cocking her head.
“Goodbye, Lina.”
“If one of you doesn’t tell me, I’ll just have to start digging on my own.”
“And then I’ll rescind my offer and fire you.”
She rose and flashed me a grin. “I think it’s going to be fun working with you.”
“How’s Nash?” I asked as she headed for the door.
Lina turned, eyebrow arched. “Shouldn’t you be asking him that?”
“I’m asking you.”
Nash had gone through a dark period after being shot, one Lina helped pull him out of.
Her expression softened as it always did when she talked about her fiancé. I doubted she was aware of it and doubted more that she’d like attention drawn to that fact.
“He’s good. His shoulder is almost back to one hundred percent, and he hasn’t had a panic attack since the fall.”
“Good.”
“Speaking of Nash. I’m going to need to start my official full-time employment Tuesday. Because Monday is wedding dress shopping day.”
“If you’re looking for someone to ask you why you sound like wedding dress shopping is torture, you came to the wrong man.”
She scoffed. “I don’t sound like wedding dress shopping is torture.”