Putting her elbow on her counter, Harley rested her chin on her hand. Apparently, now she was just listening to the rest of the group talking back and forth. She picked up the sandwich and ate it, her eyes wandering over to her computer, then back over to Shiloh and shook her head.
Shiloh watched in amused silence. She was fairly certain that it was Midnight Chevalier’s raised voice she’d heard, and she was also fairly sure that they’d asked Harley how much sleep she’d gotten the night before and that had caused the outburst from the AG. Shiloh hoped that Jericho and Rayden were protecting Harley, even from the Attorney General herself if they needed to. She’d finally met Jericho Tehrani, the Director of the Division of Law Enforcement, in a meeting the week before, and really liked the no-nonsense director.
Jericho seemed to be good about looking after her people and appointing people like Rayden who would do the same. There had been high praise for all of Harley’s work from the director, and she’d agreed wholeheartedly with Rayden’s contention that Harley’s projects should be limited to DLE, and no other units unless time permitted. Shiloh had presented a list of Harley’s projects and the time it would take her to complete them. Harley had remained, for the most part, silent during the meeting, not because she was in any way intimidated by the director, but simply because she was mentally still working through a bug in one of the programs she was working on. At one point Jericho had directed a question at Harley and when Harley didn’t answer, Shiloh had had to prod her to get her attention.
“What?” Harley had asked, suddenly focusing on the meeting again.
“I asked if you were set for equipment,” Jericho repeated, her bright blue eyes sparkling with subdued humor. “But if you don’t want another Alienware, I understand…”
“That’s not funny, Jerich,” Harley had said, her eyes narrowed. “Besides, I have the eighteen, I don’t really need that, but a faster server would be great. Actually a dedicated server to compile data and run my executables would be handy.”
“What am I looking at cost wise?” Jericho had asked.
“Well, if I get what I want you’re looking at around half a mill,” Harley had said, grinning.
Jericho looked back at the younger woman, her face impassive, even as she blinked slowly.
“We’re talking about a computer server?” Jericho had asked.
Harley had grinned. “Yep, one of the fastest out there right now.”
“Does it make French fries?” Jericho had asked, grinning.
“Not that I’m aware,” Harley had replied a grin on her lips.
“Half a million?”
“Well, yeah by the time you round up the taxes and all, ’bout that,” Harley had replied, undaunted by the disbelieving look on Jericho’s face. “You did ask.”
Jericho had nodded. “Yes, yes I did.”
Shiloh had seen Rayden and Jericho exchange a look, something akin to holy shit! but Rayden had just grinned and shrugged.
Now as Shiloh watched Harley listening to the conversation, she could see that Harley’s mind was wandering off. Harley opened a window on her computer and started clicking on things; she did a few searches and typed a few lines of code. At one point Shiloh’s phone chimed, and she saw that Rayden had texted her.
The text read, “We’ve lost her, haven’t we?”
“Yep,” Shiloh texted back. “You can’t allow her to sit at a computer and not expect her to play with it.”
“LOL, yes, I know,” Rayden replied.
“How’s Jericho fairing in the battle for Harley’s time?” Shiloh asked.
“Oh, she’s giving Midnight a good run for her money,” Rayden replied.
“She really can’t take that project on, Ray,” Shiloh tapped out. “She’s barely sleeping as it is.”
“I know, we made Midnight aware of that. We’re trying to convince her to hire Devin to come in and handle the Criminal Division project.”
“Does Devin make as much as Harley?” Shiloh asked.
“More,” Rayden said. “She’s been consulting longer than Harley has, it’s always a bidding war for her time.”
“Harley’s just as good,” Shiloh said, even though she really wouldn’t know one way or the other.
“I’m sure she is,” Rayden assured, “but she hasn’t built the reputation that Devin has.”
“Maybe I should convince Harley to start working on that…” Shiloh tapped out.
“That’s not being a team player, Shiloh,” Rayden said.
“I’m on Harley’s team, Ray,” Shiloh said with a winking emoticon.
“That much is clear,” Rayden replied with a winking emoticon too.
“Take care of our girl.”
“Working on it.”
“Good.”
The conference call mercifully ended a few minutes later. Harley never even noticed, she was too busy tapping away at her program. Shiloh reached behind Harley and hung up her phone, carefully removing the headset Harley was wearing. Then she reached over and turned up Harley’s music, leaving her office a minute later. She wasn’t sure if Harley ever even noticed. Her boss was definitely one of a kind.
***
Jazmine could hear the music playing in the bedroom as she walked into the house. She stood in the foyer and listened for a couple of minutes, recognizing the song as Breaking Benjamin’s “Follow.” It was loud. It wasn’t a good sign, and Jazmine knew it. She set down her gym bag on the table, and walked into the kitchen. She grabbed some Coke from the fridge and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the liquor cupboard, and poured about three shots worth into a glass with the Coke. She blew her breath out and headed upstairs with the glass in hand.
Walking into their bedroom she saw exactly what she’d expected: Dakota sitting on the bed, wearing a blue t-shirt and faded jeans. She’d kicked off her work boots, and sat with her knees bent, her feet on the bed, and her arms over her knees. Her forehead rested against the back of one hand. An empty glass sat on the nightstand next to her. Jazmine turned the music down some. Dakota’s head snapped up immediately, and Jazmine could see the despair in Dakota’s blue eyes.
“So, this won’t be your first…” Jazmine said. She handed Dakota the drink and sat next to her feet, her eyes searching Dakota’s. “What’s wrong?”
Dakota drained half the glass, grimacing as the alcohol burned her throat. She leaned back against the headboard looking up at the ceiling, willing the alcohol to do it’s magic.
“Dakota, please tell me what’s going on…” Jazmine said, feeling afraid suddenly. “Is it your family?” she asked, referring to the Falcos.
“No,” Dakota said, shaking her head, her voice gravelly.
“Is it the job?” Jazmine asked then, knowing that she had been set to meet the owner of the property that day.
Dakota’s eyes dropped to look back at Jazmine, the look in her eyes forlorn.
“What happened?” Jazmine asked, her bright green eyes searching Dakota’s.
“The owner…” Dakota said, her lips curled in derision. “The owner is Cassandra Billings.”
“What!” Jazmine said, shocked. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wish I was,” Dakota said, her tone defeated.
“Did she do this just to fuck with you?” Jazmine asked, her eyes blazing in anger.
“She claims she did it to apologize.”
“Then why be sneaky about it?” Jazmine snapped.
Dakota shrugged. “I guess she figured I wouldn’t have responded to an email from her. I’ve ignored every call, text and voicemail… So that was a safe assumption.”
Jazmine shook her head, her look glowering. “I’m sorry, babe,” she said, putting her hand on Dakota’s knee.
Dakota nodded her face a mask of frustration. She scrubbed her face with her hands.
“Now I gotta go back to all my subs and explain that I promised them a job that got fucked up because of my fucking screwed up past life…” she said her tone agonized, banging
her head against the headboard over and over in frustration. “People count on me… and I’ve now screwed them.”
“Dakota, stop!” Jazmine exclaimed, putting her hand behind Dakota’s head. “You didn’t screw them, Cassandra did.”
Dakota blew her breath out through her nose in a sound of impatience, her look reflecting disgust.
“You think I’m gonna explain to these professionals that I used to fuck her and because she got a little bit violent during one of our sexual encounters, she decided to apologize by conjuring up a job?” she asked, her tone indicating that if Jazmine thought that she was nuts.
Jazmine looked back at Dakota for a long minute. “A little bit violent, Dakota?” Jazmine queried, her look disbelieving. “She almost killed you! She almost let you bleed to death!”
Dakota shook her head, her look dismissive. “Whatever, either way, I’m not exactly about to jeopardize my business relationships with an overshare from my past, okay?”
Once again, Jazmine stared back at Dakota. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had Dakota actually forgotten that Cassandra Billings had cut her repeatedly and then left her in a pool of her own blood for two days? How was that possible?
“Whatever?” Jazmine repeated, her look amazed. “Like it’s no big deal?”
“Jaz,” Dakota sighed, shaking her head, “I really don’t want to get into this, okay? Can I please just sit here and fucking drink myself into oblivion for a bit?”
Jazmine blinked a couple of times, surprised by Dakota’s tone of voice as much as she was by her words. She got up and did her best not to feel hurt by Dakota’s dismissal. She nodded and walked out of the room.
Dakota watched her go, knowing she was pushing Jazmine away, but unable to stop herself from doing it. Dropping her head against the headboard again, she banged it a few more times, making her ears ring. She picked up the drink and drained it. Getting up she felt slightly dizzy, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from hitting her head repeatedly.
In her mind, she was picturing all the people who’d agreed to work with her on this project. All the people she was now going to have to call back and try to think of a reason that she wasn’t going to be able to use them. She had to think of something that didn’t make her sound like a fucking lunatic.
“Fuck!” she yelled throwing the glass across the room and watching it shatter against the wall.
She strode to the closet, pulled on her leather jacket, and put her boots back on. She picked up her keys and walked out of the bedroom. She didn’t see Jazmine as she strode out to the garage, hitting the button to open the door. She got into her 1955 Ferrari 250 GT, and turned the engine over. It started with a throaty growl. She backed out of the garage, hit the button to close the door, and then roared off.
Two hours later, Cody Falco stepped inside The Club. It was a Thursday night so it was relatively quiet. She looked around, catching the eye of one of the bartenders, Janine.
“Where is she?” Cody queried.
“Out back,” the woman replied. “She’s already gotten into it with one woman.”
“Damnit,” Cody said, grimacing.
She’d received two phone calls, one from Jazmine completely freaking out because Dakota had been drinking and then had taken off in her car. The second from the owner of The Club who’d called to tell her that her sister was drunk off her ass and causing trouble.
“Come get her, Cody,” the woman had said sharply, “before I call the cops on her.”
“Ya just did, Millie, I’m headed down now. Please just make sure she doesn’t get back into the car, okay?” Cody had requested.
“You got it, Cody,” Millie had said.
She found Dakota out on the back patio sitting in one of the chairs. A line of bottles sat on the table next to her, along with various shot glasses. She was smoking and absently watching a girl who was dancing seductively, her look directed at Dakota. Cody noted that Dakota didn’t seem the least bit interested in the blond, even in her drunken state.
“So, what are we drinking to?” Cody said, pulling a nearby chair out. She sat straddling it, with her arms draped over the back.
“My fucking past coming back to fuck up my present,” Dakota said snidely.
“What happened?” Cody asked, signaling to the waitress for a beer.
“The house, the Craftsman,” Dakota said. “Fucking Cassandra Billings owns it.”
“Fuck…” Cody said, her look a pained grimace. “Why did she do this?”
Dakota shook her head. “She says she did it to apologize, ’cause she knew I always wanted to work on a Craftsman.”
“And you’re not buying that?” Cody asked her look unreadable.
“Doesn’t matter what I buy,” Dakota said, her look wry. “Jazmine will completely flip her shit if I take the job.”
Cody nodded slowly, her look considering. “Did you ask her?”
“Didn’t need to,” Dakota said, lifting her beer to her lips and draining the bottle.
“Why do you say that?” Cody asked, as the waitress arrived with her beer. She handed Dakota a bottle of water, winking at Cody.
“Because she freaked when I told her Cassandra owned the house, went on about how she’d tried to kill me and all…”
“Well, she did,” Cody said mildly.
Dakota gave Cody a sharp look. “Why the fuck does everyone fucking think I’ve forgotten that! Jesus!” She slammed her hand down on the table, causing the bottles to jump and fall over, a couple of them breaking.
“Dakota!” Millie yelled from inside the bar, her voice carrying through the open windows of the patio.
“Yeah!” Dakota yelled back. She pulled out a roll of bills, threw a hundred on the table and moving to stand.
Cody put her hand out to stop Dakota’s movement. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving,” Dakota replied mildly, her blue eyes challenging Cody.
“Yeah,” Cody said, tilting her chin up, meeting Dakota’s eyes. “I don’t think you’re leaving the way you got here.”
Dakota’s look changed, a nasty grin curling lips. “And you think you’re gonna stop me?”
Cody narrowed her hazel eyes, her jaw muscles jumping as she clenched her teeth.
“You’re telling me that you’re gonna take the chance of wrapping that Berlinetta that our mother helped you rebuild around a tree because of Cassandra fucking Billings?” Cody asked, her tone grave.
She’d known exactly where to push. Dakota sat down, blowing her breath out in a rush.
“Bitch,” Dakota muttered.
Cody gave her a wintery smile in return. Dakota leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees, and her face in her hands, rubbing her face in frustration.
“I’m so fucked right now, Cody…” she said, her tone completely lost.
Cody leaned back in her chair, looking over at Dakota. “Tell me how.”
Dakota looked up at Cody, seeing Cody’s passive look and narrowing her eyes.
“Don’t fucking shrink me, Cody,” Dakota snapped.
Cody’s lips curled. “Sorry, you got the wrong Falco there, Dak,” she said wryly. “I don’t practice.”
“No, but you fucking preach,” Dakota growled.
“Tell me how you think you’re fucked, Dak,” Cody said again, knowing that Dakota was avoiding analyzing the situation.
“I gotta tell all my subcontractors how I managed to lose this huge fucking job I promised them,” Dakota said. “And I fucking iced Jazmine out earlier and I’m sure I’m screwed there now too… This just fucking sucks.”
Cody nodded, licking her lower lips. “So let’s go one at a time here,” she said evenly. “Is the offer of the job still on the table? Or was it a complete bullshit smokescreen?”
“The offer was real,” Dakota said, sighing, annoyed that Cody insisted on doing this at that moment.
“Okay, so what happens if you take the job, despite who owns the house?” Cody
asked.
“What do ya mean?” Dakota asked.
“Do you trust Cassandra to pay you and see the job through?” Cody asked.
Dakota looked back at her, shaking her head, like she couldn’t understand why Cody was asking all of these questions. It was a moot point.
“Yeah, I guess, I mean she’d have to sign an agreement… Considering who she is, I’d make sure my lawyers made it iron clad.”
Cody nodded. “Okay, so, why can’t you take the job then?”
Dakota looked at Cody openmouthed. “Did you miss the part about my girlfriend losing her mind if I do?”
“What’s more important to you?” Cody asked.
“What?” Dakota asked her look puzzled.
“Is your relationship with Jazmine more important than doing this job?” Cody asked.
Dakota looked back at Cody, trying to understand exactly what she was trying to get at.
“Stop trying to figure out the end game, Dakota and answer the question,” Cody said, her look pointed. “What’s more important to you? Jazmine or the job?”
Dakota shook her head. “Jazmine is,” she said simply.
Cody nodded, looking satisfied with that answer. “So it’s my suggestion that you talk to her about the job and tell her why you want to take it.”
“And then what?” Dakota asked.
“And then you let her decide,” Cody said.
“Don’t need to bother,” Dakota said, rolling her eyes. “I told you, I already know that answer.”
“Then you go back to the original question,” Cody said. “Which is more important to you? Jazmine or the job.”
“I fuckin’ hate you, you know that?” Dakota said her tone disgusted.
Cody grinned, nodding. “I think you should talk to your girlfriend, and I think that you should listen to everything she has to say on the matter. She’s earned that.”
Dakota swallowed, looking back at Cody, knowing that she was absolutely right. She was letting the concern over upsetting other people override her concern for the woman she loved more than anything in the world.
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