“Oh, it’s not really about that,” Diesel said, ridiculously earnest. “Most folks are here because they crave empathy, you know? A place to be accepted and listened to and...” He trailed off. “Wow, you and Reece have the exact same glare.”
She folded her arms.
He smiled apologetically. “I’ll just take you to see Frodo.”
He led her inside and up a flight of stairs, deeper into warehouse, until the stairs opened into a large space pulsing with music and flashing lights. A tiny girl in a short dress, tall boots, fake gloves, and bunny ears was perched on a barstool, doing shots with a young man in a dress shirt and loosened tie, like he’d come straight from a late night at the office. Cute, but not an empath any more than Jamey was.
“People buy these kids as real empaths?” she said, nearly having to shout over the music.
“Why wouldn’t they?” Diesel called back.
Because the real empath she knew wouldn’t be doing shots with rich workaholics; he’d be lecturing everyone on the evils of drinking and driving and hiding their car keys.
Diesel took her in the opposite direction of the bar and tables, down a roped-off hall into an office with a solid wood desk and beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, probably the building’s originals. The office was clean save for the two laundry baskets on the floor, one full of white tablecloths and one full of black gloves.
“I’ll get Frodo.” But Diesel had paused, glancing at her again. She wasn’t being checked out, though—not like that, at least. This was something else.
“What?” she said.
“I’m obviously the bigger of the two of us, by a lot,” he said. “But I never, ever, ever want to get in a fight with you, do I?”
Her eyebrows went up. “You’re observant.”
He gave a modest shrug. “One boss, coming up.”
He disappeared, leaving the door open. As she looked out the window at the empty street a story below, her phone went off.
En route to McFeely’s. Be careful.
They were coming here? Grayson had said he was taking Reece to the safe house. Why the change of plans? And there was no way the Dead Man telling her tobe carefulmeant anything good.
Before she could text Easterby for an explanation, under the music she could just hear small feet and short legs coming down the hall. A moment later a short, hairy man appeared in the doorway—Frodo, undoubtedly.
“I can’t believe I’m missing Ben and Bunny wrapping half the financial district around their pinkies,” he muttered as he shut the door, and that probably wasn’t meant for Jamey’s ears. More loudly, he said, “Look, Detective St. James—” He turned around and blinked. “You’re the empath’s sister?”
“It’s just Jamey,” she said. “And I want to talk to the Stone Solutions’ IT guy.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Frodo said. “But you have a very impressive air, and now I’m wondering—how much sway do you have with Reece? Because we have a job opening right now and I think—”
“How about you just be grateful no one’s shutting down your touchy-feely hive of faux-paths and take me to the server room?”
Frodo sighed. “I see tact runs in the family. Follow me.”
He took her to the door at the end of the hall and knocked, for all the good it would do anyone with average hearing inside over the sound of the bass. Frodo went for the door, but Jamey got there first, shielding him with her body. She slowly opened the door, muscles tensed—
But the opened door revealed nothing dangerous, just a pale man lounging on a computer chair and thumbing through his phone. He looked up with a loud grunt. “Did you bring my dri—whoa,” he said, as his gaze landed on Jamey. “Do I know you?”
“No.” She glanced around the small space brimming with computer equipment, but he appeared to be alone in the room and unharmed.
The man scratched his head. “I swear you look familiar, and there’s no way in hell you’re one of those fake mind-rapers.”
Frodo bristled like an angry cat and stepped forward. “Now, see here—”
Jamey put a hand on Frodo’s chest and gently pushed him out of the server room into the hall. “I got this.”
“But—”
“Go watch Ben and Bunny with those traders.” She pulled the door shut on Frodo’s protests.
