I can’t help it, I laugh out loud again.
“My tongue has third-degree burns from that bitch,” she stammers. “Surely you don’t have to ask for coffee to be at a drinkable temperature, now do you?”
I shrug. “Mine’s fine.”
“Yes, well you’re good-looking with a penis. We already know that,” she mutters as she wipes the table.
“What time is your friend coming over?” I ask. “Do I know her?”
Her eyes meet mine. “No, not really. I’m going to text her and tell her not to come. I want you to myself.”
She starts to text and I feel a contentment sweep over me as I lean back in my chair and drink my coffee. Bridget walks in and over to us.
“Don’t get the coffee unless you want a tongue transplant,” Natasha snaps as she keeps texting.
Bridget laughs. “Mmm, fishface to the rescue again hey.”
I raise my eyebrows as I smirk again. “You call her fishface as well?” I ask.
“With those silicone lips that title is well deserved,” Bridget mutters as she searches for her wallet in her handbag.
“Who are you texting?” Bridget asks Natasha.
“Umm, you know Jes my girlfriend from work.”
Bridget frowns. “No.”
“Don’t worry then,” Natasha snaps as she puts her phone onto the table. She glares at Bridget.
“For god’s sake, go and tell her the coffee is too hot if it’s that much of an issue,” Bridget sighs.
My phone rings. It’s Murph and I answer. “Hello.”
“We got a problem.”
I frown. “We do?” I ask as I sit in my chair.
“Hooker says she is sending the email tonight to Natasha if you don’t ring her immediately.”
My eyes flick to the girls who are deep in discussion and I stand and walk over to the window.
“What do you mean?” I answer angrily. “I don’t want to speak to her.” I look back towards the girls to ensure they can’t hear what is being said.
“Yes I know,” he answers quietly.
“I thought you said you were handling this,” I whisper angrily as my blood pressure rises.
“Look, I think we should go to the police,” he says flatly.
I frown and look out the window and into the car park below. “It will be too late then. I’m warning you Adrian if Natasha sees this tape someone is going to die,” I whisper angrily as I look around again.
He stays silent as he thinks.
“Well what do you want to do then?” he asks.
I try to think of a solution. “Hack Natasha’s email and crash the system to give me time to think.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”