Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
The pig loves flattery like a bee covets honey.
The balcony is farther from the main road in this unit. Farther from my brothers, but he’s not likely to try anything weird. I can’t believe this man was ever any kind of brawler.
I just have to hope he’s come alone, and there’s no one else waiting with our wine.
The balcony is just as beautiful as he promises with a sheer glass wall revealing the cityscape below. The afternoon sunset glints across the high-rises in the distance, painting the sky with its cotton candy glow of blues and pinks.
“Champagne?” Haute asks, pulling a bottle from the fridge.
I steel my face, trying not to frown.
Obviously, he had someone come here ahead of us to prep everything. But at least there’s no sign of a third wheel. No sign that this is anything except a business meeting with us or perhaps a meeting between friends.
“Sure,” I say and he hands me a glass, then fills it. “Thanks.”
“Now, I assume this is about the Mill and your plans? You’re still committed to moving forward?” He takes a sip and I follow suit.
It’s good stuff—expensive, like everything Haute owns.
“Actually, it’s a little more than that.” I take another drink. My throat is too damn dry. “But first, let me say again how pleased I am to be in business together.”
He waves a hand. “It’s a mutually beneficial deal.”
Just how beneficial is it for you?
I don’t even know whether he’s going to involve the Mill in whatever shady shit he’s started with the Sugar Bowl, but it’s a decent bet.
“I’m especially glad I introduced you to my fiancée’s bakery,” I continue, hating how much the F-word stabs me in the guts. That grabs his attention—he glances at me sharply. “The pastries clearly mean a lot to you and your partners. They’re the perfect cover.”
“They are delicious,” he drawls, his eyes assessing now.
“And I know how important they are. For your more serious ventures, I mean, beyond real estate.”
“My more… serious ventures?” He raises his eyebrows, moving his mouth slowly.
Shit, why is he playing dumb?
For this to work, I need him to implicate himself.
He has to admit he’s involved in illegal activities. Ideally, I need details so any warrant issued doesn’t turn up empty-handed.
But the way he’s looking at me tells me he won’t make this easy.
He’s a fucking snake, but he’s too good at hiding under a rock.
“Mr. Haute, I understand why you decided to use your own delivery guys for free pickups,” I say carefully. “I mean, it’s very generous and I’m sure you understand how important the Sugar Bowl is to Junie, but I thought it was a little… odd. I decided to do some looking. I hope you don’t blame me.”
“I’m still not sure I follow, Rory.” His face is almost slack with false calm, but his fingers are a little too tight on his glass, pale at the knuckles.
Do I really have to say it point-blank?
“The cupcakes were a little faulty that day. Junie, she’s a stickler for quality, and she asked me to grab them because she didn’t want to disappoint your people.” The lies drop off my tongue easily. “I took them. I found the plates inside. Don’t worry, I told my lady I threw them away. Nothing else.”
Haute taps a meaty finger against his glass.
If the tension gets any tighter, it’ll break.
“What I’m trying to say is, I want in,” I say with a chuckle, throwing caution to the wind. “That’s why I’m here. I could help you out. I suspect you could use a few more under-the-radar drop sites. I have a lot of properties you have no stake in.”
Haute purses his thick lips. “Drop sites? You’re proposing I use your properties?”
“Drops, meeting points, whatever you need.” A drop of sweat streams down my back as he considers it in silence.
His usual smugness is gone. His face reveals nothing.
Fuck, maybe this was a bad idea after all.
This guy has done everything he possibly can to keep this crap buried and I’ve just dragged it out in the open and confronted him.
What if I’ve overplayed my hand?
If he’s seen the footage from the laundromat, I definitely have. He’ll know I went there with Junie. He’ll also know I know more than I’m letting on.
“So, you want in.” He levels a measured glance.
“Yeah.” I nod slowly.
“And just what exactly do you think you’re getting involved with, Rory?”
Fucker just won’t do it.
He won’t confess.
I don’t know what combination of words will make him spit it out. He hasn’t denied it, sure, but this conversation won’t stand up for any judge, and he’ll have the best lawyers waiting in the wings.
“The operation you’re running,” I say carefully. “I don’t know the details, obviously, but I’m sure it’s profitable. You’re a cautious man. Not someone who marches into anything like this without considering every angle or a profit-risk analysis—you’re a businessman, like me.”