Page 61 of Booked for Theft

“Glad to help—and I’m eager to escape the stock market hunt for a little while. I am uncomfortable with one of my investments. I feel dirty.”

“Bought low and it’s about to sell higher than you expected?”

“So dirty,” he complained before hanging up.

I returned my phone to my purse, exhaled, and got up to tidy my desk while waiting. At the ten minute mark, I meandered to the lobby, where Mickey defended the entry against rogue patrons. I went to the large desk, slumped against it, and whined.

“Don’t look at me for sympathy. You decided to bring a politician over today,” he stated without looking up from his work. “Beatrice just called, and our boss is in his office crying. I think it’s from joy, but I’m not sure.”

“I pitched a plan for an empty floor, and Beatrice promised to get it approved. I’ll be heading a global history program, and we’ll be workshopping to create a duplicate of my codices as the opener project. She’s going to try to get me access to the Met’s antique books for replication workshops. I’m going to be stealing from his stacks for my collection and reorganizing the entire floor.”

“I see. He’s crying from a mix of joy and horror, then.”

I nodded. “It’s a reasonable reaction. When I go home tonight and get a chance to think about what I’ve done, I’ll probably cry from a mix of joy and horror as well.”

“Janette, are you actually capable of crying?”

“Rarely.” I lifted my chin and faked a sniffle. “Spicy food has made me cry recently. And I’m struggling to process the last week or two. I’m sure I’ll actually cry over that soon enough, which will alarm everyone, myself included. I’m not good at crying, unless it’s from pain or spicy food, Mickey.”

“Trust me, we all know. Beatrice is worried because she feels that if she sheds actual tears, you should too. She got angry she started crying over a politician, Janette.”

Right. When my best bitch and I weren’t waging war, we were people with real emotions we often tried to hide. “Our reputations would be irrevocably ruined if we are caught crying by anyone other than our partners. As such, it is allowed in the rulebook for you to see her cry. Bradley is allowed to see me cry, but thus far, I’m limiting my tears to when it’s dark and no one can see me and when I can blame spicy food.”

Mickey sighed. “Does that rule apply to us men, too? Because I might have cried some over the situation.”

“It does. In fact, men score bonus points when they demonstrate they are capable of emotions.”

“You talk a lot of bullshit for someone who is fighting not to cry,” my fiancé stated from behind me.

Damn. I ignored him, looked Mickey in the eyes, and said, “I will schedule in some quality crying time for when our new kittens are being particularly adorable.”

“That seems reasonable. What brings you over, Bradley?”

“Someone is having an anxiety attack over having to go to lunch with a politician, so I’m going to escort her to the lunch and bring her—and the politician—back safe and sound. Ren will be following us, as will two of my father’s goons.”

I narrowed my eyes, crossed my arms, and pondered how to get revenge on the man I’d foolishly agreed to marry. “How did Ren get here so quickly? Isn’t he at home doing paper pushing things for you?”

“He lives a few floors down from us,” Bradley confessed. “I might have helped him with the acquisition.”

I heaved a sigh, my irritation over my failure to notice blooming. “Seriously?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he moved, but Ren couldn’t handle being far away, not after your disappearance, and it was easier to just buy him a condo in our building. It also makes securing his place easy. We’ve been hiding his car in the lot so you wouldn’t notice.”

“How do you hide a car?” I asked, turning to face him.

He dared to smile at my disgruntled expression. “Dad is having some of his illusionists test new methods. So far, it’s been working pretty well. One time, you walked right past Ren without seeing him. I knew he was there, but you did not. Dad’s been having a great time proving some theories of magic that haven’t been studied.”

“We have a date this weekend to do cell work, so you can dish out some of those secrets.” I regarded Mickey with my saddest eyes. “I have to go have lunch with a politician, Mickey.”

“You’ll be all right, but I’m going to go tell the boss you’re having anxiety issues over the lunch dates. We’ll make sure someone goes with you to everything so you’re not alone or an easy target.” Mickey picked up the phone, pressed a button, and held it to his ear. “Sir, can you come see me at the front desk? Nobody else can take over my spot right now. Janette’s about to leave to pick up her lunch date.”

I sighed.

Bradley snickered, took hold of my hand, and gave a squeeze. “I’ll return her and her pet politician shortly. Tell Tawnlen I want a few words once you’ve lured him over.”

Mickey raised his thumb in acknowledgment.

Well aware that Bradley would drag me out if I didn’t cooperate, I headed for the door. “My pet politician?”