Faking It with the Frenemy

“…it’ll mean the world to her.” He thinks for a moment, then finally slaps his desk. “You’re right! Okay, breakfast and a massage. Make it happen.”

“Would you like me to arrange for flowers, too?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Roses. Red, but make sure they don’t look too common.”

Red roses are about as common as you can get, but I keep that to myself. My guess is that Ceinlys admired some roses on the trip, and Salazar decided she should have them.

“Anything else, sir?” I ask, making a mental note to check with André and the masseuse from Ceinlys’s favorite spa for private lessons. As for the flowers, I’ll have to do some research.

“How much did we pay for the statue?” Salazar asks.

“The market price,” I say, hedging a bit. “We haven’t actually wired the funds yet, though.”

“But we have an oral agreement, right?” He waves his hand again. “Send the money to the owner, but we have to do something about the ugly thing. I’m not keeping it at my place.”

I add Wire money to Wyatt to my list. “If you’d like, I can have it disposed of properly.”

“Yeah, do that. Dump it into some building foundation somewhere. Jimmy Hoffa the damn thi—” He stops, raising an index finger. “No, wait. Give it to—no, donate it to Elizabeth. She’ll find a way to auction it off for her foundation. And whatever we paid for it, write that off as a tax deduction.”

“Got it.” François’s name alone will net a handsome sum for the charity, and if a harpy eating a man alive can feed some hungry kids, I’m all for it.

“Great. Now I’m having lunch with Churchill today, and I want you to join us.”

“Me?” It comes out as a squeak. I’ve been asked to join business lunches before, but this is awkward. Actually, more than awkward. I don’t think I can ever see him again without…seeing him.

“Yeah, I’ll need someone to take notes. You know how Churchill can get.”

Other than sticking his joystick where it doesn’t belong right before his own wedding? He’s fickle and prone to changing his mind ten times a minute. “I do. I’ll be there.”

“Thanks.” He nods and turns back to his coffee, effectively dismissing me.

I leave the

office with a small smile. That went better than I hoped. I text Wyatt to let him know he doesn’t have to worry about the statue at all.

–Wyatt: Really? Won’t you get into trouble?

–Me: No. He told me to buy it weeks ago, and as long as it’s a fair market price, he won’t care. He’ll just write it off. And trust me, Elizabeth could auction one of François’s old socks for a million dollars. The woman’s a genius at raising money.

–Wyatt: If you’re sure. Hey, want to have lunch? I’ve got two hours free this afternoon. Also want to celebrate, because I finally have a new assistant!

–Me: Yay! So Loren said yes?

–Wyatt: Yup. She’s starting next Monday.

I smile, thrilled for him. Finally, he’s going to get the assistant he deserves! But lunch… Damn Churchill…

–Me: Congrats. But I can’t do lunch today. I have a business thing. Ugh.

–Wyatt: Why ugh?

–Me: It’s with my boss and Churchill.

And it’s going to be as fun as caressing a wild tarantula.

–Wyatt: Sorry about that. Sounds nasty.

–Me: And difficult. I don’t think I can ever forget what I saw at Geneva’s wedding. Hard to put on a professional face after that. But how about dinner?