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For all the good that will do, Lowell thought. Could this guy stop being so self-important and let him off the phone so he could do something that might actually be useful?
“I’ll let her know, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” he said, minding his manners as best he could while wanting to throw his phone against the wall.
“I also…”
Now that had his attention. Grant’s uncertain tone of voice, the way he sucked in a breath as though he’d thought better of what he was going to say.
“You also what?”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“Most things are,” Lowell agreed. “But nothing is about all I have to go on right now so I’ll take it. Anything you’ve got, anything at all.”
“My nephew works at the firm, and he and Tamsyn have a friendly rivalry.”
From what Lo knew of Pete Surry and his beef with his little girl, it didn’t sound so friendly to him. But he hadn’t thought—
“I’m not suggesting Pete had anything to do with this. I just…”
Well. It soundedpreciselylike Grant Surry thought his asshole nephew might be more of a hitman-hiring type of evil than the garden variety bully type.
Lo made a noncommittal sound. Goddamn right he would check out what Pete had been doing that night.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. But I appreciate your candor.”
He was about to ask exactly how nasty things had gotten with Pete, but his phone beeped with another incoming call. It was Ian from Hive.
Lowell pressed his lips into a thin line, considering not answering that call. But, if only for Tamsyn and Hux’s sakes who’d made good friends at Hive, he wanted to stay on the good side of the owners of the club. Also, while he imagined they’d say differently, those people had nearly the same pull and influence the Foster-Webbs did.
“I’m getting another call, Grant, and it’s one I should take. But I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop about Tamsyn’s recovery.”
He clicked over to the incoming call without waiting for a response.
“Lowell Foster-Webb.”
“Hey Lo, it’s Ian from the club.”
He didn’t think he and Ian were so familiar as for the ginger to call him Lo, but Ian also seemed like the kind of person who was best friends with most people and just assumed that was or would eventually be true of almost everyone so Lowell didn’t take it as a sign of disrespect. Just…how Ian was.
“What can I do for you?”
He couldn’t imagine why Ian would be calling unless it was a personal favor. The owners of Hive had been in touch with Hux to ask after Tamsyn, he knew. No one called Lowell just to chitchat or to see how he was.
There was always something, and it was generally that they wanted something from him. Even his own family. He’d made himself indispensable but at what cost?
That wasn’t fair though. Not to Hux, not to Tamsyn. Not to the people at Hive, either really. They didn’t want favors or secrets; they just seemed to want…him. Which was absurd.
“It’s actually about what I can do for you.”
“For me?” he echoed. “What do you have that I could possibly want?”
He heard Ian snort, and yes, okay, that made him sound like a total jackass. And here he’d been trying to play nice. Perhaps he ought to have taken more notes from Hux.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes you did,” Ian said, and Lowell wasn’t going to argue. “Under normal circumstances you’d probably be right. I mean, I have some political connections and I know a hell of a lot of secrets, but unless there were very special circumstances, you’re not getting your hands on either one of those things.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lowell muttered, imagining the dirt Ian and company had on some incredibly powerful people, but liking them all the more knowing they’d never trade on that information. Irritating but encouraging. Much like Ian himself.
