Page 10 of Business vs. Pleasure

The tricky part with this client was luring him out in the open.

And that is where your illustrious husband comes into play, Heidi’s message had said. The mark is constitutionally incapable of refusing a potential investment opportunity. August doesn’t even have to hide his identity, because this asshole would gladly meet with a member of the Mason family if it means getting rich. Just draw him out someplace public and off him.

“Well, shit.” August handed back Ricardo’s phone. “I just get to play myself, and I have an alibi because”—he touched his chest and switched to a dramatic bystander voice—“I was just sitting there eating dinner, and then he was shot! I could’ve died myself!” He put the back of his hand to his forehead and mock-fainted in Ricardo’s lap.

Smirking, Ricardo peered at him. “You know, as long as you’re down there…”

August tsked and sat up again. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“You’re the one who put his head⁠—”

“Oh my God.” August gave him a shove. “Focus, Ricardo.”

Ricardo chuckled, but he indeed focused. “So. You’re in?”

“How much does it pay?”

“Does it matter? You get to be yourself and then act dramatic after someone is shot right in front of you. You’d do that for free even if you weren’t richer than God.”

“Rude.” August cradled his cup between both hands. “Is the pay enough to motivate you? Even though, thanks to community property, you are also richer than God?”

“I get to be a sniper again, and I can menace you and make you wonder if I’d shoot you.”

August’s eyebrow rose. “Bitch, please. We both know you wouldn’t shoot the man who made you come like that last night.”

“No, but you’ll wonder,” Ricardo teased. “The whole time, you’ll wonder.”

August huffed. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re making me dial back the lethality of our home security and you want to menace me with a sniper rifle. Yes, I hate you.”

“I’m also the reason you’re not sitting comfortably.”

The response to that was a middle finger.

“So.” Ricardo bumped August’s shoulder with his. “Are you in or not?”

“Pfft.” August brought up his coffee for a sip. “You had me at ‘here’s the information she sent.’”

CHAPTER 4

Some people thrived on holding grudges.

August, unsurprisingly, was one of them.

It wasn’t a stretch for most people to believe; not given how strong his petty bitch vibes were, but his public persona didn’t even come close to the deep, downright unfathomable depths at which August held his dearest grudges. They practically had their own relationships at this point.

Ricardo wasn’t that sort of person. He knew how to be dispassionate both on and off the job; it was a necessity if he wanted to be a successful soldier. He’d had to learn how to set his personal feelings aside and do the work in front of him, whether that was shooting someone a kilometer away or shaking hands with a person whose throat he’d happily slit under other circumstances. That was why Ricardo had been the best assassin on RateYourHit—he was utterly professional and detached, whereas August…

Well. It was complicated. He’d been excellent, obviously, but that excellence came with a cost.

August could and would hold his hurts close to his chest for all eternity, from his loathing for the boy he’d gotten into a fistfight with when he was eight after the little shit called his sister, Elodie, a slut because she wore lipstick to school to anyone who ever tried to cross him on a job, as several of them had found out before their very timely deaths. He could obsess with the best of them, and that trait had served him so well when it came to hunting down the people who murdered his brother that he’d never looked back, even when it drove him to make poor decisions down the line.

But he’d gotten a lot better over the years, especially after getting together with Ricardo. A crack leading to the capacity for genuine forgiveness had opened in the wall around his heart. He’d forgiven his parents for years of neglect and forgiven his brother-in-law for being a complete fucking moron behind his “I’m a super clever surgeon” façade. Forgiving people he loved came quickly.

Accepting Ricardo’s apologies—both the one he gave on the roof and the one that played out in bed—made it easy for August to be outright cheerful as he packed his bags—all seven of them—and made arrangements for one of Elodie’s private jets to take them from Valletta to Chicago. This might just end up being more than a diversion to give Ricardo some enrichment so he didn’t sharpen his claws on the carpets. It might be fun.