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“It’s from the site.” Neil hated lying, but there was no way he was going to tell Jack the truth. “There is construction all around me and I—”
“Cut the shit. It’s not from construction. Especially, when you’re wrecking at least one bike every month.”
Neil turned to face him. “How do you…?”
There was no way he could know that. Neil bought the same bike over and over again so he didn’t look too suspicious. But obviously Jack was much smarter than he gave him credit for.
“Jack, my schedule isn’t a secret and I—”
“Because you’re going to start telling us where you are. Especially now.” Jack looked him in the eye. There was sincere concern for his welfare in his stare. “Every time we can’t find you I’m going to go from precinct to precinct thinking you’ve been picked up again.”
He hated being an asshole. But Jack didn’t need to get wrapped up in his world. “Just mind your own business and focus on your own work.”
Jack had been busy with the foundation he had created the year before in honor of their mother—the Vivian Madewood Foundation. Jack focused on securing funds for the Cooking for the Future program, a program his mother started when she realized how the culinary arts helped Neil and his brothers acclimate and focus on their future.
Neil and his brothers took turns running the program and because of Jack’s efforts over the last year, it was the reason why Neil was teaching the program in actual schools rather than just the test kitchen they had built specifically for the program.
Jack took out his phone and glanced at his screen. “Any reason why Carson Kelly would be calling me?”
Carson. Why the hell would she be calling? Neil cursed under his breath. Today was the final inspection. And he had missed it.
“She’s probably looking for me. I may be in some trouble when I finally show up today.”
“I’m off to pick up Sterling and we’re coming back to Bistro.” Sterling Andrews was Jack’s live-in girlfriend and the woman who finally got him to settle down. “I can wait for you if you want.” Jack said.
Neil shot him a dirty look. He didn’t need a babysitter. “Why the hell would you wait for me?”
“How are you going to get to the CF program?”
“Shit!” He didn’t need a babysitter, but he definitely needed a chauffeur. He’d already forgotten about the license situation. The next week was going to be torture. “I’ll just get Penn to call me one of those car services.” Penn Foster was their marketing and event planner for the Madewood group of companies, which included two restaurants, the Madewood Farm and their gourmet food stores. She worked out of Bistro and had become their go-to person for…everything. “I’ll make do for a week.”
Half an hour later, Neil sat in Cole’s office scouring the receipts from the night before.
“I’ve been phoning you all morning.”
The familiar female voice that wafted from his doorway didn’t sound so inviting. In fact, it sounded downright evil.
He looked up to see Carson standing in his doorway with the scowl he had seen so many times before on her face, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I was a little busy this morning.” Like being bailed out of jail. “Besides, my phone hasn’t rung once since I got here.” Neil grabbed it out of his pocket and thrust it forward. “See, it’s—”
“Off.” Carson stalked forward and grabbed at it, the white screen lit up.
He hadn’t bothered to look at his phone when he left the precinct. He’d just ripped open that plastic bag and gotten the hell out of there. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
She recoiled. “What?” She cupped her hand around her ear. “I didn’t hear that?”
Neil sighed. She was such a ballbuster. “I said I’m sorry.”
“Wow. I would have bet my entire trust fund that I’d never hear you say those words.”
Neil shot up in his chair. “I knew you had a trust fund.”
She gave him a dirty look. Right. Not the time or place to get into it.
“What can I do for you, Carson?”
She pulled the file folder she had tucked under her arm. “I need approvals and some signatures.”
