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She arched a perfect eyebrow. Sebastian flipped the file shut with asnap.
“Caleb is biased, and you shouldn’t listen to a word that he says, especially not about any of my past associations.” It seemed wrong, somehow, to reduce Quinn to that, but it was too complicated to explain.
“I don’t like him.”
“Yeah, me either,” Sebastian said, dropping the file back on the desk. “He just sticks around like a bad smell. It’s been that way since we met in college.”
Her look could have melted glaciers. “I meant Hughes.”
Sebastian knew who she’d meant. He also didn’t think it was fair to base any opinion of Quinn on Caleb’s thoughts about the situation, especially since she’d never evenmethim. If it had been Quinn’s partner, Grady, then he would have understood. The guy put the “dick” in dickhead. The fact he was good at his job was beside the point. His bedside manner was atrocious.
Sebastian took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “Don’t you have work to do?”
She picked up a nearby pen from the desk and twirled it between her fingers. “Is he the one who gave you the hickey that you’re trying to hide?” she asked smugly.
Fucking dammit.He had been sure the collar hid it. He shifted it again, feeling the slide of fabric against the bruise.
She pointed at him with her pen, still twirling it. “I can only see the top of it, but I know what it is,” she said. “You might want to think about concealer before your meeting at four.”
“Do I look like I carry concealer?” Some days he didn’t even remember his keys.
“Do you want me to answer that?”
“No.” Fuck, no. He couldn’t tell whether this level of sass was because he paid them too much or didn’t pay them enough.
“These,” she said, holding up a stack of notes. “Are messages for you; all from your family.”
“Great,” Sebastian said dully, taking them. It was never a good sign when they called his office instead of him.
“The first one is from your brother.”
Sebastian read the “call me” written in Monica’s elegant script. He appreciated the simplicity of it. He absolutely wasn’t going to call Eli, of course. At least for a year. Two? How long did an elephant’s memories last? Maybe he needed to change his name and leave the country.
“Six are from your mother.”
Sebastian paused, his fingers tightening on the notes. Fuck.
“Six?” he asked, just to be sure.
“Mhmm. You want to burn them? I have matches ready.”
“No,” he said, instead of the “yes” that was on the tip of his tongue. It was tempting. He could just imagine what half of them said. He hadn’t deigned to call her in over a week, and she’d be getting impatient. It didn’t matter he’d been trying not todie. That wouldn’t ever be her priority. Unfortunately, ignoring her had never made it go away.
He shoved the notes into his pocket and headed for his office. Monica stood and followed him.
“The last one is from Louise.” Monica’s voice softened for that one. “She said you can call back if you have time.”
“Did you tell her—”
“That she’s welcome to call your phone and get directly through to you whenever she wants?” She looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in the entire world, and honestly, he deserved that one. “Of course I did. Her answer was the same as it always is.”
Louise was the mother of his best friend, Jay, and had been more of a mother to him growing up than his own ever had. He’d met Jay when his younger brother, Eli, had made friends with Jay’s younger brother in kindergarten. Eli and Gabe had been inseparable ever since, and a mirror image of that friendship had evolved with Sebastian and Jay. Louise still insisted that she’d go through “the proper channels” when contacting him at work because his time was important. The world didn’t deserve her. He should call her back.
Sebastian stopped short when he unlocked his door and took one step into the office.
Hunter was sitting on his couch, totally at ease. Beside him was a man that it took Sebastian a moment to put his finger on.Jericho. When he’d spoken to him as “Warren,” he’d been quiet, surly and uncooperative, like a bratty teenager. He hadn’t found it unusual, because a lot of his drug cases had the same kind of clients. Ones who thought they were untouchable and refused to make things any easier for Sebastian. Yesterday he’d been too focused on Peyton and Hunter to take much notice of him, other than the prickling annoyance about the fact that he’d been lied to.
Whoever Sebastian had met before, that wasn’t the man lounging beside Hunter. He was exuding a completely different aura. Knees parted, with his arms spread across the back of the couch. His hair was up in a messy bun, not unlike how Peyton wore his sometimes. His beard wasn’t long enough to tug on but thick enough that the coverage was impressive. The confidence that oozed off him as he stretched out was that of a man completely at ease with himself. The black jeans he wore clung to lean hips, and his pastel-pink button-down shirt was taut against his flat stomach. He watched Sebastian with sharp, dark-green eyes, like a hawk watching its prey.
