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Only bottom.
Graham Filth scraped the lowest point of the barrel.
I knew Graham was a rat.
I could feel it as sure as I felt breaths escape my lips and trouble in the air. Worst of all, I couldn’t prove it, no matter how much time I spent watching Graham.
And like an acne-faced fifteen-year-old exploring PornHub for the first time, I’d spent a lot of time watching.
But it wasn’t like I had something else to do with my time. The restaurant business demanded a lot from me, but the bar side—much less.
The security for Asher and Lucy’s wedding had been planned, Tessie spent most of her time getting tutored, and my family duties started and ended with confirming Graham as the rat.
For the twentieth day in a row, I watched Graham go about his day-to-day work schedule through the security cameras.
Restocking the alcohol. Taking orders. Mixing drinks. Retrieving the ice—I hadn’t taken Ariana off ice duty, but I figured I’d let it slide since it was a little fucked up in the first place.
I could admit I was an asshole, just like she liked to call me one.
All this watching, and nothing happened. Some more orders. More drinks. A few texts when he should have been working. A food break midway through his shift. Chatting with Ariana, his body a little too close.
More texts. More drinks. More talking to Ariana.
Still too fucking close to her.
Ari, Ari, Ari.
I didn’t know what I’d do with that woman.
Feisty. Witty. Sex on heels. She defied all expectations, and I decided the night I’d taken her home that I’d have her, fuck her six ways till Sunday, and release her.
I traced the resume on my desk. A viable new hire to replace Ariana De Luca. I’d been sitting on it, debating, trying to keep away from Ari.
Not anymore.
Movement on the screen caught my attention. Graham leaned a hip against the counter and flicked Ariana’s nose, like he was Zac Efron and life was a C-grade Disney flick.
She laughed and shoved him before returning to a customer.
And then he did it.
Graham’s hand slipped into his back pocket, and he pulled his phone out. I didn’t even notice at first, but it was a different phone.
He lifted his gaze, his eyes shifting left and right before they dipped down again and his brows pressed together, like he was confused by something on the screen.
I toggled with the keyboard, zooming in as close as the camera would let me. Not close enough. Despite the 4K quality, his phone screen remained pixelated.
I drafted an email to Niccolaio, asking him to enhance the quality, before considering he was still in hiding.
The rest of the tech guys we had on hand would take longer, but they’d do, so I sent the file to them and called up Gio on an encrypted line.
He answered on the first ring. “Your mom’s driving me nuts.”
“What’s new?” I studied Graham as he wiped the bar counter down and winked at Ariana. The fucking rat. “I may have something.”
“And?” Gio’s impatience had my jaw ticking.
“Graham has a second phone. Possibly a burner. I sent the video to our techies for enhancing.”
