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“Lots of presents with big ass bows. Didn’t even know what some of that shit was, but Jenna was happy. And the little cakes were good.”
Margo’s giggle blossomed into full-fledged laughter, “Well, there’s a man’s account for you. And they’re petit fours.”
“What?” Brick asked, still recovering from hearing her laugh for the first time.
“The little cakes. They’re called petit fours.”
“You okay? You coulda called Talon for the rundown of the party.”
The humor left Margo’s voice. “I supposeokayis a relative term. To be honest, I’ve been both more okay and less okay than I am right now.”
“Stop with the riddles. Are you fucking okay?” Brick growled.
“I need for you to do something for me, Brick,” Margo said, ignoring the question.
“Okay,” Brick agreed, wondering how he could help a woman halfway around the world.
“You’ll be receiving a special shipment tomorrow. It should arrive fairly early, so if you’d be there to receive it, I’d really appreciate it.”
“What is it?” Brick asked, picking up on the edge in Margo’s voice that she was trying hide.
“Just a surprise for Talon that I’d rather not discuss directly. So please don’t mention it to him.”
“Fine, but listen to me, little girl, if anything happens to you, Talon is gonna be pissed as fuck, so don’t do anything stupid,” Brick said.
The tinkle of Margo’s laughter hit Brick’s ears just before she hung up.
*************************
Maker
The diner buzzed with the conversation of the lunchtime crowd as Maker made his way through the tables scattered throughout the room to sit at the end of the counter, as close as he could get to having his back to the corner.
Lizzie worked her way toward him, stopping along the way to top off coffee mugs.
“Hello, beautiful,” Maker whispered when she reached him.
“Hello yourself, handsome,” Lizzie replied with a smile. She filled a mug with fresh coffee and set the cup in front of him. Then she pushed little cream and sugar dishes across the Formica and leaned on the counter.
“I’m hardly that,” Maker argued.
Lizzie shrugged, “Eye of the beholder.”
Maker smirked, “Got me there.” He doctored the coffee, sipped, and then sighed in appreciation.
“Tired?” Lizzie asked.
“It was a night,” Maker admitted.
Lizzie frowned, “Everything okay?”
“Not sure yet,” Maker said. He nodded toward the front windows, “You see the Caddy out there?”
Lizzie leaned around to peek over Maker’s shoulder. “The green boat? Yeah, I see it.”
“How long’s it been there?”
“A while, I think.” At Maker’s scowl, she went on, “Sometimes people park here for carpools. Truckers leave their cars here. This parking lot is rarely empty.”
