One Wicked Lick from the Drummer (The One 3)

Had he considered buying property for his parents? Did he have an interest in nanotech, biotech, fintech, medtech, scitech, regtech and a bunch of other techs he’d never heard of, where did he stand on ethical investments and venture capital?

He channeled a busy bumblebee and snapped out his next response.

I tried to buy my parents a new place, but they like where they live, they’ve made friends of their neighbors and they refuse to move. Best I could do for them is spend up on renovations and a new car. They get an overseas holiday whenever they want one, but they don’t like the neighbors to think they’re showing off. Pain in the Goddamn rear. They both still work and they don’t need to and they sacrificed a lot so I could have music. Now that I’m finally in a position to pay them back they don’t give a flying fuck what I want. So yeah, I considered doing more for my stubborn-arse parents and struck out.

He didn’t read it back, he hit send and opened the next mail but before he could think of a way to say he didn’t have a feel one way or another for tech of any kind, other than sound tech—was that an investment thing, Mena responded.

Mark, glad to hear from you. Thank you for getting back to me.

He replied to that mail with one word, his preferred name. Then he refreshed and refreshed again. Email was painful, no little dots to show someone was online and replying. And then, there it was. Mena’s reply.

Grip, you were incredible with those kids. I should’ve mentioned that. They loved their lesson with you. Thank you for inviting me to watch.

Now what was wrong with that? Proper use of his name and a warm and fuzzy compliment but that formal thank you was a Debby Downer.

You’re mad with me, aren’t you? Delete.

What the fuck? You’re mad with me, aren’t you? Send.

There was a go-pour-more-coffee gap before she responded. Of course, I’m not mad with you.

“Pigs in space, honey.”

A new email came in. I’m mad with me. I shouldn’t have touched you like that. It was a complete breach of trust and professional standards. You’d be within your rights to report me to management and have me removed from your account. I’m feeling more than a little ashamed.

He repli

ed. Even if I liked it, because he had liked it, even knowing he wasn’t supposed to, and then held his breath while stabbing send/receive until he got, Grip, please don’t tease me about this. It’s very serious. It’s an ethical breach and I could lose my job over it.

Shit. He hadn’t thought it through to that sticky end. Was it really that big a deal? Wasn’t like he was going to report her to the principal and get her put on detention. I must not maul the client. I must not maul the client.

I’m not going to go getting you into trouble. I liked it. But I shouldn’t have. I get that. As fricking annoying as that was. But did she like it too? Beneath the heavy layer of ethics and professional conduct, did she still want to lick him?

Because he very much wanted to be licked by her.

There was a delay and then she replied. This is a problem, you know that, right? We need to have a business relationship.

I get that. I’m with you. Build that wall back. Brick by brick. It’s my fault. I keep making you blush. I see how it compromises you. I promise I’ll do this the normal way from now. Whatever you need. I don’t want to start again with someone new. Figure we could just say that happened and move on.

She came back with, You’re more pragmatic than I gave you credit for.

What are you wearing? Delete. He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. I’m full of surprises. I don’t know how to answer your other questions.

That’s an answer in itself. Thank you.

What next?

He looked at the new merch artwork while he waited. It slapped hard, and he approved it, and then Mena came back with, I’ll finalize my recommendations for you in the next week. I suggest we meet with your accountant and broker to discuss the way forward. Once you’ve approved things, I can work with them directly on implementation.

Wait, that was it? Ah hell, that was a bit too damn businesslike. That wall was ninety-foot tall and electrified. Hold up. I need you to see the escape room experience.

His phone rang, and he scrambled to grab it from inside the house. “I’ve read the investment proposal for Seven Gates,” Mena said.

Her tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it was crisp, like the snap in a stick of celery. “Yeah, but that’s not the same thing as seeing the concept.”

“I don’t need to see the concept to understand the investment potential.”

And that was almost wintry. “It’s because I stripped off, isn’t it? I thought about going in dressed but I didn’t want to have to ride wet or wear soaked clothes to drum practice at the school.”