In Your Corner
Page 45

 Sarah Castille

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Immediately, I put a hand up, shielding my face. “What are they doing here? What if they see us?”
Ray shakes his head and huffs a breath through his nose. “Our booth is situated outside their line of vision. Restroom is behind them. No chance they’ll see us unless they have some reason to walk this way. Keep your menu in case they do. They’re meeting someone and I want you to see him in person. I knew the meet would be here since they come to this restaurant for lunch every Thursday.”
“I only just gave you the Farnsworth case. How do you know they come here every Thursday?”
Ray lifts an eyebrow. Thus chastised, I slump back in my seat. “Okay. You’re amazing. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Finally I get a smile. “Never one to turn down a compliment.”
The waitress arrives to take our order, and after she leaves, Ray gives me a rundown on where he is with my cases. While he’s talking, I glance over at Evil Reid and Farnsworth laughing together and a pang of regret tightens my gut. Did I really ever have a chance at partnership when Evil Reid and Farnsworth are so tight? Maybe all those years I was working hard, I should have been playing the game. Making friends. Sleeping with the enemy…or enemies.
“So who is this guy you want me to see?” I drum my fingers on the table beside the bread basket which I am NOT going to indulge in today. No bread. Bad bread. Carbs and Amanda don’t mix.
Ray covers my hand with his own, forcing my fingers to still. “He’s not a good guy. You ever see him, you call me ASAP. You do NOT pull shit like you did at Hunter’s Point.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “I sense you’re a little annoyed about last night.”
Ray leans across the table. “I was f**king out of my mind and that’s sayin’ something. I’m a pretty relaxed kinda guy. I don’t interfere in people’s lives. But you and Pen, all sweet and innocent, traipsing around Hunter’s Point dressed the way you were dressed…”
“I’m touched by your concern,” I say dryly. “However—”
“You need help, you ask for it.” Ray cuts me off with a growl. “Big problem of yours, not being able to ask for help. Get over it.”
“Um…thanks for the advice. You’ll be pleased to know Jake agrees with you.” My voice is tight with sarcasm, but if Ray even notices, he gives no sign.
“Don’t mention it.”
The waitress arrives with our pizzas, but before I can dig into the mouthwatering feast in front of me, Ray grabs a menu and holds it up at the edge of the table.
Instinctively, I duck down behind it. “What? What is it? Are they coming?”
He shakes his head. “Short, skinny Italian dude in the red shirt. Gold chains around his neck. Whole lotta trouble going on there.”
“He looks like he’s in the mafia,” I whisper as I peer over the menu.
“He is.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Seriously?”
“No.”
“No?”
Ray snorts a laugh. “Name’s Eugene Clements. PI. Farnsworth hired him to replace me.”
I press my lips together and glare. “Funny, Ray. Very funny.”
“It was funny.” He treats me to a rare Ray smile. “Shoulda seen your face. Sheet white.”
My lips quiver with a repressed smile. “So why did I never know about your sense of humor before?”
Ray’s smile fades. “Nothin’ funny about Farnsworth & Tillman. Your firm, however, amusing as hell.”
Evil Reid pulls a blue file folder from his briefcase with a picture attached and hands it to Eugene. Even from this distance I can recognize my firm PR shot. My heart stutters in my chest.
“Omigod, Ray. That’s a picture of me.” My voice rises above the din. “That file is about me!”
Ray’s hand grips my wrist with what feels like an iron claw and he pulls me across the table. “Discretion. Name of the game.”
“Okay.”
“Silence. Also the name of the game.”
“Okay.”
He releases my wrist and nods to my pizza. “You can eat now.”
“I’ve lost my appetite. It creeps me out thinking someone is watching me.”
A curious expression crosses Ray’s face. Regret? Distaste? Consternation? But before I can figure it out, it’s gone.
Ray devours his pizza while I toy with what could have been a delightful feast, and the next five minutes pass in silence. Farnsworth and Evil Reid leave the café but Ray still doesn’t speak. For some reason, this scares me more than anything, and I struggle to find a topic to divert our attention.
“Ray, can I ask you a question?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“’Cause when a woman asks if she can ask a question, then she’s wantin’ to ask a question no man wants to answer. If it was just a normal question, you would have asked it. Normally.”
“Okay.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes and then Ray sighs.
“What was the question?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not important.”
“Question. Now.” He barks the commands like a drill sergeant. Maybe in a past life he was a drill sergeant or maybe it was a past life within this life, like before he became a PI, which would explain the commando clothes and attitude.
“Um…well…if you were a guy…”