Blood in the Water(21)

“Yeah, friends who exercise and don’t date each other,” Vick added. “Nothin’ to see here but workout buddies.”

Lord, keep me from slappin’ ’em both.

Those two had something juicy bubbling below the surface of their “friendship.” It was the worst kept secret in the Dixie Mafia and the subject of much gossip. Vick and Jasper were both in denial about the attraction between them. One of these days, they’d have a full-on office romance on their hands. Inevitably, it’d end in recriminations and tears. What a pain in the ass.

“Whatever. I need my office back.”

“We were about to be goin’ anyway.” Vick stood and looked down her nose at him. “Your systems are all back online.”

“Fantastic.” Byron crossed his arms over his chest. “You two should find another place to play slap and tickle.”

Neither one of them gave him any backtalk since he was the boss. Instead, they hustled their asses out—probably going for coffee and a bitch session about him.

Speaking of java, Byron turned the coffee maker on and flung himself down in the chair. Damnation. Thinking about his mother’s murder always got him riled and he probably shouldn’t have taken it out on them, but they’d get over it. And if they didn’t, oh, well—there was a very long line of people who hated his ass.

After grabbing a cup of joe, Byron pulled up his bank account online and savored the sight of his ill-gotten gains. Looking at his money always made him feel better.

Sometimes, it was the only thing that made this life worth the sacrifices.


***

An hour later, Jane came down the stairs. Byron sat in the dining room with another cup of coffee and the Wall Street Journal, a ritual of his.

Her suit was slightly rumpled, and he wondered if she’d slept in it. He hadn’t thought to offer her something of his to sleep in, and now he wished he had, if only for the visual.

As always, the sight of her affected him on a visceral level—made him sit up straighter, take notice, and an electric hum of attraction buzzed through his body.

Jane was sexy in a subtle way. She had a deft mind, a sassy attitude, and her body didn’t hurt either—lush hips, tiny waist, and large breasts which sparked his imagination. Her figure reminded him of Mae West, and she had the cool conceit to back it up.

And she wanted nothing to do with him, which made him want to chase her more if only to win her over. He could scarcely believe he’d talked her into spending the night, and he hoped it was the start of something even more intimate.

“Mornin’,” he drawled.

She froze like a doe caught in the headlights. “Good morning. I should be going to work.”

“At least stay for a cup of Kona coffee—freshly brewed.” He lifted the silver carafe, like the devil dangling a juicy apple.

She bit her lower lip, and he could read the hesitation on her face.

“Maybe just one cup.” She drifted into the dining room and sat down across from him.

Byron had some ideas about what might’ve happened. It was time to test them out.

“Sleep well?”

“No.” Jane poured a cup of coffee into a china cup and added a generous amount of cream. She wrapped her hands around the mug for a moment, as though soaking in the warmth before bringing it to her lips.

Jane had bags beneath her eyes, and she was more subdued than he’d ever seen her. For a woman with a normally formidable air, it was disconcerting. Her dilemma must be weighing heavily on her mind.

“How can I help, darlin’? I hate seein’ you like this.”

“No one can help me. I have to handle it on my own.”

“At least you’re admittin’ there’s a problem this mornin’. You’ll find a solution soon enough, I expect.” He should’ve known she wouldn’t willingly volunteer the information—Jane took the principles of her profession to heart. Real casual-like, he leaned back in the chair. “I saw a grainy picture of you in the papers the other day with a headline about the grand jury choosing not to charge Oscar Valentine.”

Jane cringed.

Byron had also heard all about the case on the news as well as rumors from some of his underworld contacts. This wasn’t the first time Byron had brought up Valentine with Jane, and they’d squabbled about it before. Byron thought Valentine was guilty from the very beginning, and he’d advised Jane to be on guard with him.

“You had dinner with the fuckin’ psycho last night, didn’t you? Let me guess, he wanted to ‘celebrate the win’ with you?”

Jane didn’t respond.

“And you ain’t defendin’ him this time.”