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She lifted her chin. “What about me? I didn’t run off and put bets on who was going to win the game.”
“No, but you stopped your doctorate because there were no more fellowships to pay your way.”
“There are,” she countered. “Just yesterday I was offered a fellowhip in Arizona, but I’m here with you and Ben instead. We can’t move on until you’re out of debt. It’s fine that I’m putting my master’s degree to use taking care of mouse shit and washing beakers. Just fine.”
Obviously not fine.
“No passive aggression in that tone,” Ben muttered, then lifted his voice. “Look, Viv, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I knew all the stats. I knew everything I needed to know to come out a winner. Shit happens.” Ben skated a hand out in a soothing, placating gesture that Jay had learned from Ben that usually worked to calm Viv.
Or at least take her anger down a notch.
“I know you’re sacrificing for us,” Ben said earnestly. “I hate it. But I’m grateful. Thank you.”
Viv turned from Ben to Jay. “Thank me by telling me how the three of you are going to stay alive past the due date for your debt. Because I don’t know how you’re going to do it. I honestly don’t.”
“Okay.” Maybe Vivian was open to a new strategy. Hopefully, she was. “Think of us as the Merry Men of Sherwood,” Jay said.
“Oh yeah,” Wade called. “We’re going Robin Hood on Yuri’s ass. Steal from the rich and give to the poor.” He looked over at Jay. “We’re the poor, right?”
“You’re poor,” Vivian said, grabbing a kitchen chair and moving it toward Jay. “Alright, Jay, let’s hear this. Just how are you going to keep your ass alive?”
Chapter Four
Jay
“Amanda Harcourt arrived in town for the weekend.” Jay let his gaze travel from person to person. “Amanda Harcourt is the owner’s wife over at Harcourt Alabaster.”
“Mrs. Big Bucks,” Wade sing-songed.
“Mrs. Worth-over-a-billion-bucks you mean,” Jay said. “That’s exactly right. I figure she has so many bucks that she has enough to pull us out of Yuri debt, pay off Ben’s school loans, maybe even give us each a nest egg to slowly let seep into our lives. Nothing flashy. Vivian goes back to school and gets that doctorate she’s been working so hard to get.”
“You want us to get money from your boss’s wife?” Ben asked. “How could that possibly work?”
“Crypto is untraceable.” Jay held up his hands to keep everyone silent. “Listen, hear me out. It’s a little complicated and yet very straightforward.”
“I hate it already.” Vivian’s eyes looked tired. She knew, just like they all did, that they were wounded animals trapped in a corner. The only way out of this was to fight for their lives—fight dirty.
“First, how do I know Mrs. Harcourt is getting home?” Jay asked. “It was mentioned in the security brief. They sent one of the executive chauffeurs to pick her up at the airport. Tomorrow morning, they pick her up at her mansion and drive her to Muffy Tifton’s bridal shower tea at 2:30. Then day after tomorrow, security gets her back to her private jet hangar, makes sure she’s settled in, then off Mrs. Boss goes to Paris for shopping.”
“We could easily pick off the chauffeur, probably some old geezer, right?” Wade and Jay had served together on three tours. Could they ambush the chauffeur and take control of the car? Piece of cake. But it would land them in jail. His plan added a couple of steps that kept them safer.
“Not even close,” Jay said. “Alabaster’s chauffeurs are armed, trained in evasive driving skills, hand-to-hand, and while they drive, they’re also the close protection personnel—CPPs—who manage excursion safety.”
Viv leaned forward. “I don’t know what that means.”
“They do advance research and prep. They’ll reach out to the house where the party is planned and check on their security. If he’s not needed—"
“Only men drivers?” Viv asked.
“Only men on our team. I haven’t met any women.”
“Sexist,” Vivian hissed.
“If it’s a safe environment,” Jay ignored the side journey Vivian wanted to send him on. “The driver will be outside with the car.”
“Just so you know,” Viv said. “I’m not part of this discussion because I had my earphones on and was listening to white noise while I babied a migraine. So if anyone calls me to the witness stand, all I can say is that we were hanging out, and I saw your mouths moving. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”
“Wuss,” Ben hissed.
