“If they ever decided enough was enough…” I half mumble to myself.
Russell says, “Wouldn’t be so many degrading jokes, that’s for sure.”
“Damn straight,” Mrs. J. agrees.
“Yeah.” My cheeks are on fire. “The men get the credit but these women run the show.”
Russell is wide-eyed, head shaking. “And about the guy who was framing people who crossed him by making it look like they were laundering from him.”
“Yeah. He’s in jail. Well, prison.” I lift my chin.
“You’re like a superhero.” Danny blinks in awe.
“How do you even get this stuff on them?” Russell asks.
Danny makes the mind-blown gesture.
I can’t handle the gratitude. It feels dishonest. Or maybe that isn’t the word. It’s a weird dichotomy of wanting to be proud of my work but shriveling under the blaring light of their notice. But the upside is, I told three people—four if you count Pepper, but I don’t know that he even qualifies as a mammal—and the world is still turning. I’m still standing. They believe me. That’s the most amazing thing. Not one of them calls me a liar or an attention seeker.
“I uh…”
It’s then when we all notice Roe, leaning casually against the wall. I have no actual idea of how long he’s been standing there.
“Tell them what you’re working on now. Because it’s not helping me like you claim to be.”
That’s when I realize Roe is angry with me. Very angry.
15
Roe
All four headsspin toward me. Even that weird creature on the counter, that may be a cat, spins its head in my direction.
I’m angry. I’m impatient. And most importantly I’m sick of Maggie dicking me around. Everything we’ve done so far has been for her and her agenda. I’m risking my neck and my career, and for what? Also, there’s a box of doughnuts sitting in front of me and the smell is making me nauseous. And that pisses me off too.
She leans over the counter. The coffee sits unmade but this was never about coffee. Maggie’s wearing this weird one-piece thing that shows off her legs. They’re long and tan and smooth, and I want to run my hands up them until I touch where they meet.
I shake my head.
Focus. Focus. Nobody notices me, they’re all too busy talking over each other. Apparently, Maggie is keeping secrets left and right. Well, those days are done. I step around so I’m in her line of sight. She sees me right before I start talking.
“What exactly are you doing?” I repeat.
“I do many things.” Maggie flushes but lifts her chin.
She knows as well as I do that she doesn’t want her shit exposed. Whatever drives Maggie to destroy Zebulund is more than a desire for revenge. It’s deeper and uglier and she isn’t about to share it with the room.
“Can you excuse us?” I step toward her and take her arm.
She glares at it and then at me. Her arm snaps away from me. “Excuse us for a minute,” she says to the others.
The other three chime in at once: “Yup,” “Sure,” “I have to go call my accountant anyway.”
They clear out of the kitchen and slide the heavy barn door closed behind them. The thing barks. Turns out it’s a dog. A second later, the darker-haired fella tiptoes back in and picks it up.
“Sorry.” He makes himself as small as possible as he tiptoes back out of the room.
As soon as we’re alone we both speak at the same time.
