Page 48 of Business vs. Pleasure

August rolled his eyes and groaned. “Fuck satisfying. I just want him gone.”

Ricardo grunted. He couldn’t really disagree.

And now that they had something in the neighborhood of a plan, his appetite was creeping back in, so he picked up the menu again. “We should order food.”

“We should.” August groaned theatrically and pushed himself to his feet. “I’m disgusting. I’m going to get a shower.” He glanced at Ricardo. “Could you order me the steak?”

Ricardo nodded.

August started toward the bathroom but halted, and he stabbed a finger at Ricardo. “And don’t you dare order the salmon.”

“What? Why not?”

“Ugh, because then the whole room will stink.” August wrinkled his nose. “I am not sleeping in a room that smells like fish.”

Ricardo just laughed as August continued toward the bathroom.

Then he called down to the kitchen to order room service.

“Hello, I’d like the steak. Medium rare.” He paused, fighting the grin out of his voice. “And could I also get the salmon, please?”

CHAPTER 14

“If this were an actual job, it would be the simplest thing in the world.”

“It is an actual job,” Ricardo said with a sigh, the sound vaguely tinny in August’s earpiece.

“You know what I mean.” August glanced away from the pool to inspect his arms for any sign of redness. Of course he’d used sunscreen, because hello, no skin cancer for him. Or worse, becoming leathery and wrinkled because he voluntarily exposed himself to UV rays. No. He would be ghostly and beautiful for the rest of his life, thank you very much, but it never hurt to check. “I don’t understand why this guy had such a high-level contract.” They’d been going to fake another one, but when Heidi pointed this one out to them, Ricardo had been quick to snap it up. August still wasn’t sure why.

Said “guy,” Herman Darrow, was currently doing the breast stroke in the hotel’s pool. He wasn’t much to look at—medium height, medium weight, gunmetal gray hair slicked back as he swam from one side of the pool to the other over and over again. He had a few pockmarks on his face but no noticeable scars. Essentially, he seemed… well, dull.

“He travels alone,” August went on as he lazily scrolled the file on his phone. No new information popped out at him. “He’s usually armed, but that’s hardly a deterrent. He’s certainly got a job worth eliminating”—taking out arms brokers for warlords was one of Ricardo’s favorite things to do —“but it’s barely a seven-figure payout. Hardly enough to gather your interest or mine, on a normal day.”

“You’re right,” Ricardo said, and August smiled as he picked up his drink. “But what you don’t know is that there’s actually a bonus riding on fulfilling this contract.”

August frowned and swallowed quickly, stifling a cough. Curse this shitty gin. “There’s no indication of a client bonus on the file.”

He could almost see Ricardo shake his head from where he was surveilling them in their hotel room. “It’s not a client bonus, it comes from RateYourHit itself. See the different first letter of the file name? The C in bold?”

“Yeees…”

“That indicates that Mr. Darrow has eluded not one, but two previous hits arranged through the site. The bonus is an additional twenty-five percent increase on your rating for the hit if you take him out successfully.”

August’s jaw dropped. He stared at his phone for a second, then furiously brought up Ricardo’s job history. He ran down the file names, and his sense of umbrage grew with every second. “You… almost a third of your contracts have a different letter in front!”

“Do they?” Ricardo asked mildly.

“You’ve been gaming the system since you started, you shit!”

“I’ve been utilizing my knowledge to the greatest advantage.”

“Same fucking difference!” August was tempted to throw his phone, but drawing attention to himself right now wouldn’t help things. Darrow wasn’t supposed to know they were here, after all, and NightRaven… well, if he didn’t know they were here yet then he wasn’t paying attention.

“Baby,” his husband said in the placating tone that August hated, “most of the people who evade hits are trained soldiers. They’re not your type of target anyway. You like useless rich people and kidnappers, remember?”

That was true, but August didn’t have to admit it. He opened his mouth, then paused. “Do you think this is part of how NightPigeon has been upping his rating so quickly?”

“I’ve considered it,” Ricardo replied. “And I wouldn’t put it past him, but in this case it doesn’t really matter. The fact that we’re here should be enough to draw him in. Speaking of, any sign of him so far?”