Page 31 of Business vs. Pleasure

But then the guy was gone.

And August had never been more confused in his life.

CHAPTER 9

“What the fuck happened in there?” Ricardo demanded as August got into the car.

“I don’t know.” August sounded more confused than Ricardo had ever heard him. “Zeke the Assistant was acting like a fucking mosquito, and then suddenly Redham is there and having this allergic reaction.”

“To what?”

“No idea.” August flailed a hand as Ricardo followed the steady stream of luxury cars out of the venue’s parking lot. “I… and something weird happened on the way out.”

Ricardo glanced at him, unnerved by how unnerved his husband was. “What happened?”

“It—well, I guess nothing really happened, but I saw someone. And I swear I recognized them. I just can’t place them.”

“What did they look like?”

“Like someone who’d be listed in the credits as Generic White Male Waitstaff Number 2.” August exhaled slowly. “There was nothing, like, distinct about him. He was just familiar.”

Ricardo scowled at the Bentley crawling in front of them. “Maybe he’s on the CCTV.”

“Maybe.” August sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t get it. I mean, I guess it’s possible he had a legitimate allergic reaction that got the job done before I could. But that seems a little too convenient for me.”

Ricardo grunted in agreement. Something about the whole situation was bizarre.

Their one stroke of good luck was that the surveillance devices Ricardo had placed around the venue had done their job. He’d even checked to make sure everything was stored to the cloud, and he’d backed it up to another cloud just to be on the safe side. With as weird as this whole job was—as their entire return to killing for hire had been—he wasn’t taking chances.

August pressed back into the seat, and he sounded exhausted, which was probably the adrenaline ticking down. “Did you get all of your cameras?”

“Yes. And all the footage is saved.”

“Good.”

A moment later, August was asleep. Ricardo got it. After watching someone drop dead before him out of the fucking blue, an adrenaline crash was to be expected. As freaked-out as August was over what exactly had gotten to Redham before he could, his system undoubtedly needed a reset.

By the time they were back at the hotel, he’d probably be back to a hundred percent.

But right now, safe in the passenger seat while Ricardo was driving, he could pass out for a little while.

Ricardo said nothing, and he drove while August slept.

He was right—by the time they’d parked at the hotel, August was wide awake and back in the game.

This was no doubt partly because of his brief catnap, but also because of the furious phone call he received just as Ricardo was pulling into the garage.

“Whoa, whoa,” August said. “Slow down. One thing at a⁠—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to slow down!” Rachel shouted through the phone, which was now on speaker. “I told you subtle, August! Subtle! What the hell was that?”

“It wasn’t us!” August insisted.

“What do you mean, it wasn’t you? You were there to get the job done, and now my husband’s dead and everyone is pointing their fingers at me. At me, August! What have you done? My reputation is ruined, and⁠—”

“I mean exactly what I said,” August said. “It wasn’t us. I have no idea what even happened. He came up to me and Zeke, and he was⁠—”

“He was going into anaphylactic shock!” she screamed. “What were you thinking? He’s so secretive about his allergies—everyone knows that’s something only his inner circle would know about! Including his wife! Now they all think I killed him!”