In A Fix - Mary Calmes Page 0,15
could see that something was expensive, and I did subscribe to the whole “you get what you pay for” lesson, but for me, it applied to contractors; it applied to auto mechanics and doctors, lawyers, and college professors. For me, it pertained to people, not stuff. Having an amazing watch was great, but the G-Shock one I wore when I was a patrolman in Chicago still told the time, even after I was thrown into a wall and also nearly drowned by a junkie in a swimming pool. Things were functional; money was to be spent on people and art.
But who cared what I thought? Clearly, no one here. Brig had just spent a small fortune on the gift for his friend, but I knew, from little more than Chase’s expression, from the clenched jaw and gaze riveted on mine, that he would have preferred that Brig was leaning into him right now instead of me. At that singular moment, he wanted to be me.
Once Trey and Quentin rejoined us, Brig led us to a private bourbon tasting. I explained that I was not a fan, and though I got a lot of razzing, everyone let it go because, for starters, they didn’t know me well enough, and second, they didn’t care. It made sense. They would only see me this weekend; they had no emotional investment beyond that.
I would have been bored with drinking and buying whatever caught my eye, but they were in Vegas, and they were there to let off steam and do nothing. When they all hit the tables to play some Texas Hold’em, I took a seat outside the room, as people who weren’t playing weren’t permitted. There was only one way into the area where they were playing, though, so I could scrutinize everyone as they entered.
They played until they lost a grand, each. If I lost that much, it wouldn’t bankrupt me, but it wasn’t walking-around money either. As we strolled back toward the shops in the Venetian, Brig clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“Do you need me to spot you some gambling money, Croy?”
I turned my head to look at him, feeling the scowl on my face. “That’s not in the Torus contract, and if I’m concentrating on whether or not I’m losing your money, then my eyes aren’t where they should be.”
His chuckle was warm as he smiled at me. “You’re absolutely right. I just didn’t want you to be bored out of your mind, sitting around doing nothing but watching us have fun.”
“That’s the unglamorous part of being a bodyguard,” I told him. “The endless waiting.”
At an upscale men’s boutique, Brig was trying on some shirts as, apparently, he needed one for dinner since he hadn’t packed any spares, and Nolan had spilled a Bloody Mary on him, on the plane. He was in the fitting room while Nolan and Astor looked at cuff links, and the others texted and showed each other pictures and checked their Twitter and Instagram feeds. I was the only one keeping an eye on strangers coming in and out of the store.
When my phone rang, I was happy for the distraction, though I never took my eyes off my surroundings. I didn’t check the caller ID, not wanting to be off my guard even for a moment, so I was surprised to hear the familiar growl.
“Locryn?”
“Why’d ya say it like that?”
I cleared my throat. “You don’t normally call me.”
“Yeah, so?”
It was a minefield with him, he was so prickly, but at the moment, I didn’t care. Already, after only a handful of hours, I was sick of my current assignment, and because he was familiar, even if brooding and short-tempered, he sounded like home. Having him on the phone was comforting.
“Did you hear me?” he grumbled.
“Not at all, no,” I confessed.
“All right, let’s try this again for the concentration impaired.”
“You’re funny today,” I conceded, leaning on the counter, smiling into my phone.
“I’m funny every fuckin’ day,” he said, affronted. “But so you know, some lawyer came by looking for you.”
“A lawyer?”
“Yeah,” he replied solemnly, and then I heard it, a catch in his voice. “And I’m sorry, Croy, but I think somebody’s dead.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know, the guy had a look, he was somber, like he could have been a probate lawyer,” he said hoarsely, sounding uncomfortable. “He left his card; I’ll take a shot of it and text it to you so you can call him.”
I took a breath. “Yes, good. Thank