Harry fought the very urge he was about to express—with every ounce of will he possessed. He let Lloyd drop hard, righting him when his legs began to crumble. “Get one thing straight, you piece of shit: I ever hear my girlfriend’s name on your lips again, I’ll tear them off your face. Now shut your mouth or I’ll damn well shut it for you. Clear?” Harry seethed down at him, his muscles rigid and ready to spring into action.
Lloyd’s deep gray eyes, wide with terror, and probably confusion, over quiet, unassuming Harry making a threat to take him out, warred with pride and the idea that he’d been checked in front of Gary. “It was just a joke, Harry,” he attempted to make light.
“Don’t joke about my girlfriend—ever. In fact, quit talking about women like they’re monkeys meant for your amusement. It offends me, and when I’m offended, this is what happens. Got me?” Harry roared in his face.
Lloyd gave his chest a halfhearted shove, slipping out and away from Harry. But he took a parting shot to save face. “Whatever, man. It was just a joke. If you can’t take a damn joke, I get it.” He made a fast exit, the sound of his hurried footsteps satisfying to Harry’s ears.
His vision cleared in that second, leaving the impact of what he’d done crystal clear. With a wince, he picked up a chair and held out his hand to Gary. “Sorry, pal. I don’t know what came over me.”
Gary’s eyes went wide with shock. “What the fuck was that, Harry?”
Harry jutted his hand forward at him again, insisting he take it.
Gary’s gaze was hesitant, his grasp tentative. “So? What the hell, buddy?”
Harry yanked him up and righted him while he thought about what to say next to explain how mild-mannered Harry had turned into the Hulk.
He jammed a hand through his rumpled hair while Gary waited, blotting his coffee-covered tie with a napkin. “Lloyd’s an asshole. That’s what that was about. He’s always talking shit about women. But he can’t talk about mine.”
Gary backed up. “I gotcha. But Lloyd’s always been an asshole, Harry. You’ve heard his sexual exploits since day one. I get that he was talking shit about your girlfriend, but that wasn’t like you at all. Even when you’re pissed off, you’re never that pissed off.”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “This is different.” And it was. Fuck, it sure was. He couldn’t remember anyone he’d spent so much time not only conflicted about, but thinking about, quite the way he did Mara.
“So is it serious?” Gary asked with a grin, smoothing back his blond hair and brushing at the seam in his tan trousers.
He didn’t want to talk about Mara. Not right now. And it wasn’t like this was all real anyway. For all he knew, her crush from Christmas was long over. He hadn’t exactly been crush-worthy these last few days. Not to mention, they were only doing this to keep up pretenses. He found himself wishing it were real. But he didn’t reveal that to Gary. Instead he shrugged with a smile. “I don’t know.”
Gary slapped him on the back, letting him know he understood. “It damn well must be for you to get so worked up. Now quit talkin’ and help me clean up. Then we’ll superglue Lloyd’s Playboy pages together. He’ll never know what hit him.”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head and stooping to pick up a batch of papers when his phone rang with the theme song from Star Trek, the song he’d chosen to alert him it was Mara.
But it wasn’t Mara. It was Nina, her voice brisk, her statement, as always, littered with bad language and to the point. “Brainiac? Get your fucking ass up to Keegan’s office now. Nine-one-one, buddy.”
CHAPTER
14
Harry burst through the ornate double doors to Keegan’s office, tripping over the plastic runner and almost falling. “I’m okay!” he yelped, righting himself with his hands against the dark oak paneling until he caught his balance.
His eyes, fraught with worry, flew past Keegan, Marty, Wanda, and Nina, and sought Mara. His hair was mussed and his shirt was torn, but he stood strong and tall, his expression a question. “What’s going on?”
Nina popped her lips, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Jig’s up, Harry. We’re fucked.”
Marty flicked Nina’s tie on her hoodie with a snort of disgust. “Nina! Why must you always be so crude? Could you just once find your sensitive bone and make use of it? We have a serious crisis here!”
Nina flipped Marty the middle finger. “I’m just callin’ it like I see it. Why bullshit? We got trouble. Big, big, ugly, hairy, pack trouble. I’m not butterin’ up my fist to jam a painful truth down his throat.”