Page 55 of Mr. Match

I consider her question for a moment. “I don’t think they’re going to make a move tomorrow. I think when I get back from that meeting they’re going to ask me what I know. And I’m going to tell them something and they will give me another order. That’s how it usually works.”

“Is this how you make money?” Ariel asks. “Oliver wasn’t too keen on telling me what you do for a living.”

“No.” I almost laugh. “I don’t take their money, for fuck’s sake. I’m their prisoner. Whatever they pay me stays in the bank account they set up. I’m not stupid enough to actually use it. I make money as an erotic artist.”

“Uh-huh,” Ariel says.

“Don’t call the kettle black, pot.”

She smiles. A small laugh comes out. “I’m not judging. I’m just curious what an erotic artist actually is.”

“Ask your father.”

Her face. Jesus Christ, her face goes from friendly to I-will-kick-your-ass in two seconds flat.

“It wasn’t a derogatory remark. I’m just saying your father used to paint naked women, OK? He’s what I’d call an erotic artist.”

“So you paint naked women?”

“I paint myself,” I say. “Naked.”

“Hmmm.”

“Is that enough small talk for you?”

“What’s your end game here? Get Oliver? Me? My parents? Who?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, Ariel. I’m not driving this car. I have no clue what they’re doing. I just want to save my little sister from being indebted to these people and I’ve worked my ass off for the past four and a half years to get her to this point. I don’t even know your secrets, OK? I have no clue why they’re interested in you.”

“But you’re here to find out secrets about Weston Conrad? Who hired you for that?”

“You don’t need to know that,” I say. “And I’m certainly not going to tell you.”

She looks away, focusing on something over my shoulder. “OK, then. Good talk.”

“That’s it?” I ask.

“You have something more to say?”

“I don’t know. Some support would be nice.”

“Support?” Ariel looks at me like she’s truly confused. “Oh.” She smiles. “I get it. Team-building. Well, Kat, I wish I could say welcome to the family, but I’m afraid I’m going to take your advice and not trust you. I’m going to assume you’ll be wired tomorrow, or you’ve told them the location—”

“I won’t be. And I didn’t.”

“—or you’re going to take our plan and find a way to fuck it up once you know about it.”

“I don’t think this is about your plan. There was never any mention of a plan. I think this is about gaining your trust. Getting you to let your guard down so I can—”

“Fuck me over. Well, I’m the fucker, Kat. Me. Not you. But we’ll go through with this and see what happens because Tori insists on it. I’ll walk you out.”

I wonder if I should try to keep the conversation going. Or ask if maybe Ariel might bring Tori over here right now so we could have a chat.

But a tall guy, with even more tattoos than Oliver, appears in the open doorway. “Excuse me,” he says. “You’re in my room. Is there something I can help you with?”

I look around for Ariel, realize she left me standing there, and then shake my head and make a run for the front door. When I push through, Ariel is just disappearing into her building down the block.

Good talk, Ariel. I hope we can do it again some time.