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Without questioning me, Georgia hands me her phone, already unlocked. I text Alfie my link, and when I hand it back to her, she examines it.
“Another one of your phishing schemes.”
“Social engineering is one of the easiest ways to penetrate. And you claim to know nothing about information security or hacking.”
She snorts. “I don’t. But everyone knows what phishing is, though I didn’t know it was a form of social engineering, so there you go, I just learned something new.” She reads what I wrote aloud. “Is this where you want me to meet you tomorrow?” Her eyebrows rise, and her green eyes find mine. “Where exactly am I supposed to meet him?”
“The lobby. But I don’t want you to meet him, so it wouldn’t have mattered if I had picked a random lab in China. Don’t click the link, or it’ll fuck up things I don’t want fucked up.”
“Alfie isn’t a bad man,” she tells me as she takes a seat at the table diagonally from me, a mountain of food between us. “He’s nothing like Ezra, and I understand why he’s upset. He’s worried about me, and he’s worried about Monroe.”
“We’ll see once I start digging into his secrets.”
“Unethical. Beautiful. Dangerous.”
“What’s that?” I ask absently, returning to my laptop and entering the commands I need.
“You.” The tone of her voice has me glancing up to find her studying me. “That’s exactly what you are. A vigilante. A dark knight.”
I feel my throat moving as I swallow.
She clears her throat and looks away, a small flush on her cheeks. “Anyway, Ezra has been blowing up my phone. He doesn’t think we’re the real deal or that you’re serious about me. Can you imagine?” Her eyes widen in mock horror, and she puts a hand to her chest.
I smirk, shutting the screen of my laptop, removing my glasses, and opening up one of the containers of food.
“I’ll get the wine then?” she mocks.
“If that’s what you want.”
“I got married today. I want wine, but I also need tequila.”
I wipe at the smile on my lips. “Don’t you need to not be hungover tomorrow?”
“I don’t think a glass of wine and a shot of tequila will leave me hungover.”
I can’t argue with that, so I get up and go over to the bar inside the TV cabinet and pull a few glasses out—two wine, and two regular glasses—since, shockingly enough, there are no shot glasses here. Setting them down on the table, I twist off the top of the wine, pour us each a full glass, and then a shot and a half of tequila, because it seems I could use some as well.
Georgia raises her tequila glass to me. “Here’s to lying, cheating, stealing, and drinking…If you’re going to lie, lie for a friend. If you’re going to cheat, cheat death. If you’re going to steal, steal a heart. If you’re going to drink, drink with me.”
“Who said that?” I ask as I drink down my shot, watching as she does the same. She winces and blows out a heavy breath, but then licks her lips and does a little shudder that tells me she liked it.
She shrugs. “No clue, but we didn’t make it up. It’s what we used to say in nursing school when we’d all go out. That and please, God, don’t let us kill anyone.”
“Have you?”
“Not yet, but the night is young.”
“And you are so lovely.” I sit back down. “Do you love what you do?”
She pops the lid on her container and digs into her shrimp fra diavolo. It’s been six years, but if you had blindfolded me and asked me what Georgia had ordered for herself, I would have told you that.
“I love what I do,” she exclaims, her face lighting up in a way that has nothing to do with the food. “It’s the absolute best. I miss it, and hopefully I’ll be back to it now that this is taken care of. Do you love what you do? You weren’t tattooing when I knew you. I mean, at least not professionally.”
“I wasn’t doing anything when you knew me other than killing time.” While trying not to kill myself. I sip my wine before setting my glass down. “I love what I do. All of it.”
“If I were brave enough, I’d want you to ink my skin.”
My cock jumps in my slacks at the idea of inking her smooth, creamy skin. I dig into the creamy chicken pasta and salad she ordered for me because, clearly, she still remembers what I like too. The food is fucking fantastic and so is the wine, and I have a nice warmth running through my veins from the tequila and the view. The one I can’t seem to remove my eyes from. The one with hair nearly the same color as the wine.
