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Moe attacked another plate of appetizers. “This is proper good nosh, innit?”
“Can you speak English for once?” Rory growled.
“I speak it all the time, you bloody pillock. If you recall, the British had the market on the language long before you ungrateful upstarts came along.”
“I’man idiot?” Moe seemed surprised he knew the meaning of pillock and Rory gave him a knowing smile. “Take a look in the mirror, you ugly prat.”
“Ha!” Moe laughed, wiping his fingers on a posh napkin as he leaned back in his chair. “Mildly offensive, mate.”
He’d give him offensive. As soon as they got out of here.
“Enough,” Parker warned. “Both of you.”
Beatrice made a slashing motion with her finger across her throat as Hannah and a dark haired man arrived at their table.
“Amelia,” Hannah cooed, bending down to kiss her cheek. “I’m so happy you made it! How are you feeling?”
“Good.” Amelia’s smile was genuine. “Tonight is wonderful. You did a great job organizing this.”
“I had a lot of help.” She wasn’t wearing the brace but had a flesh-colored wrap on her wrist. She eyed Rory. “You clean up nice.”
He bit his tongue, forced a smile.
She returned her attention to Amelia. “Did you see Binni? She’s here somewhere.”
The purse sat on the table in plain view, Amelia’s crutch under her chair. “Not yet. The presentations were fabulous. I want to learn French now in the worst way.”
Hannah laughed, pointing at the purse. “Is that the one that was stolen? Did they capture your mugger?”
“Not yet,” Amelia said. “This is my extra. I checked it and found that USB.”
“You did? Did you look at the pictures?”
She nodded. “That’s definitely my dad. Thank you for sharing them. It was so good to see his face again.”
“Where are my manners?” Hannah turned to her companion. “Chad, this is Amelia, the friend I was telling you about. Amelia, this is Chad LeFarre.”
“Holy fuck,” Tate said in Rory’s ear. “He’s a tech billionaire. Lives in France. Rarely leaves his compound. What’shedoing here?”
Rory closed his eyes for a heartbeat, wishing he could reach through the earbud and silence the kid. For good measure and to relieve his annoyance, he kicked Moe under the table instead.
“Ow! Hey,” Moe sputtered, nearly choking on his chipotle wings dipped in some fancy-ass sauce. “What the bloody hell?”
Rory acted innocent and when the others ignored the exchange, Hannah introduced Chad to them.
The Rolex on the guy’s wrist was worth more than all the cars they’d arrived in. Rory came to his feet, uncomfortable with Chad looking down on him as they shook hands.
Cal did the same, then walked a few feet away, pretending to peruse a handout from one of the booths. “Run this guy through our main program,” he murmured to the team. “Now.”
Chad took Amelia’s hand, bending over it and giving her a sultry look, a lock of his hair falling across his forehead. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Thorpe.”
He knew her last name? Had Hannah mentioned it previously, because she hadn’t just now. Rory balled his hands into fists and felt Beatrice tug on his jacket to get him to sit.
It took every ounce of willpower to do so.
“I’m certainly glad you made it after what happened,” he said in a voice like warm brandy. Rory noted his accent was subdued. Also, fake as hell. “Hannah told me you were attacked. That you have memory issues. Sounds terrible, but you’re obviously not one to let it get you down.”
Amelia withdrew her hand. “I’m tougher than I look and my memory is coming back—not only about that night, but other things as well.”
