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“Fine.”
I’d have pushed it if I hadn’t been so preoccupied, but my blood was still boiling, threatening to lash out at anyone that crossed my path. I opened up the club and gathered the mail, and Faye darted about the place doing a cleaning inspection as I took up my seat in the office.
I knew exactly what I was going for as I fired up my laptop.
Vincent cunting Blackthorne’s fucking website.
It was easy enough to find what I was seeking. His website had a tab just for the purpose:Events.
I clicked on it.
Fucking bingo!
The vain cunt had loaded up his schedule to the max, signing after signing in bookshops all around London. Today he was in Leicester Square, signing at one of the major chains from two until four. I had plenty of time. I closed the page as Faye joined me, and she seemed none the wiser. I sorted the banking from the pile of envelopes and handed them over, and she didn’t raise an eyebrow, just got to work as I sifted through the rest.
I processed membership applications, but my attention wasn’t really on them, it was on her.
“What?” she asked, eventually. “It’s not like you to be lost for words.”
“Nothing.” I turned my chair towards her. “Are you alright, Faye? After last night, I mean.” I paused. “And everything.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It was nice.” Her eyes pierced mine, and they were frostier than I’d have liked. “Don’t think this changes anything, Andy. I still want what I want. One night of cuddles doesn’t mean I’m your lapdog.”
“Did I even suggest it fucking did?”
“No,” she said. “But I know you. You can’t help yourself.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” She lightened her words with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s only reaffirmed what I already knew.”
“Which is?”
“I want equality. I’m not going to settle for anything less. Not again. Not ever.”
I sighed. “Fine, Faye. Whatever you say. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”
Home? Did I just say that?
“Yes, we will.”
Her smile told me she’d noticed, too.
I waited until Topaz was in before I made my exit. Faye was helping her out with preparations for the big birthday celebration and I strode through the bar with as little fanfare as possible. I nearly made it to the door before I was collared.
“Going out?” Faye asked, like it wasn’t fucking obvious.
“I’m meeting a supplier, negotiating next quarter’s prices.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think I should be involved?”
I didn’t have time for her bloody outrage, so I shifted to cunt mode, easily and effortlessly. “Organise it for your week, Faye, if you want to play the big I am. This is my week, remember?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she snapped, but it did the job, she skulked off to Topaz with a scowl and the two of them began their gossiping. I didn’t even care. I had bigger fish to fry.
***
The bookshop was pissing heaving with Vincent Blackthorne fangirls. More hairspray and lipstick than you could shake a fucking stick at. It drove me to fucking insanity, just being in the pissing queue.
