Peyton took a bite of the sausage pizza and frowned. It wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t great. Something was still missing—that subtle technique or ingredient that would elevate him from Pizza Pawn to Pizza King.
Still no sign of Lily, but he wasn’t going to worry, yet. Focus on the pizza instead.
He nodded to himself. At least he was close to getting Shay to acknowledge his greatness. For now, he at least had a steady source of lunch and dinner.
Shay’s little cartel-cleaning trip with her buff beau had gone well, and the Nuevo Gulf Cartel was a few men away from being a footnote. She’d called him to let him know she had to take down a few guys in Europe and would be back to LA after that.
He rubbed his chin, incidentally removing a bit of sauce.
What the hell am I supposed to do when she gets back? Brownstone still hasn’t handled this AET shit. How long am I supposed to keep it from Shay? If she finds out on her own, she’ll realize I already knew.
Peyton glanced at the pizza oven. If he could achieve the ultimate pizza, he might be able to distract her enough to avoid a gun to the face.
That’s my plan? Survive Shay by the application of pizza?
He grinned. The more he thought about it, the better the plan seemed.
His phone rang, and he grabbed it, assuming it was Shay. He blinked when he spotted Brownstone’s number.
Okay, play it cool. Don’t mention the pizza plan. Just act like Slick Mercenary Hacker Peyton.
“Hey, are you calling to make me richer?” the researcher answered.
“Shay’s still in Europe, right?”
“Yep. Why? Worried?”
“Nah. I just found a solution to the AET shit.”
Peyton’s heart kicked up. A plan where he didn’t have to bake the ultimate pizza was always a good one.
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a woman sitting in the Leanan Sídhe right now who looks like Shay.”
“They say everyone has a twin. Guess you have a type, huh, Brownstone?”
The bounty hunter grunted. “She’s a fucking clone. She’s wearing one of Shay’s dresses and some of her perfume. She’s flirting with me like she’s never seen a man before. And she’s being too nice and calling me James.”
Peyton frowned. If Shay had returned from Europe early, she would have at least dropped him a text about it.
“Okay, that’s…suspicious and not very Shay.”
“Yeah. If AET wants Shay so badly, they can fucking have her twin instead. I don’t know who this bitch is, but she’s probably not gonna take me out for barbeque, so I figure we get her barbequed instead.”
Peyton laughed. “Damn, you’re ruthless. What’s the plan?”
“Do your computer shit and send an anonymous tip to AET that the killer from NY will be at Lincoln Park in an hour.”
“You want AET to go after some strange woman in the middle of a public park?”
“They’re cops, they’ll clear that shit out. That’s why I’m giving them an hour.”
Peyton whistled. “You really think this will work?”
“I think AET wants a scalp, so I’m giving them one. Can you do it? And how much will it cost?”
“This is for Shay. It’s on the house.”
Chapter Six
Shay stared at Peyton as he stepped out of the Warehouse Two office. Today’s sartorial choices included slippers and an ornate Japanese robe decorated with a floral pattern. In another circumstance it might have looked elegant, but not on a man shuffling away from his computer desk with a can of Mountain Dew in his hand.
“Really?” She pointed to his robe. “You know, when I was on the plane, I was entertaining myself by trying to figure out what strange outfit you might wear next. Sometimes you’re so close to having a clue, and other times I’m convinced you’re snorting all the dust in the county in the morning before choosing your wardrobe.”
Peyton shrugged. “This isn’t weird. Plenty of Japanese men wear something like this.” He sipped his soda.
“Yeah, sure, probably on the weekend in their houses. And in Japan, not at work in a secret warehouse in Los Angeles.” Shay gestured around the building.
“We’re in a global economy. Well, say what you want, at least it’s memorable.”
Shay laughed. “You’ve got me there.”
“Exactly. You get to coast by with the femme-fatale thing, but I’m making my mark by being fashion-forward.”
“There’s such a thing as a man being ahead of his time.”
Peyton nodded. “Sure, sure. Anyway, I was trying to get into character. Not a big deal.” He set his can down on a nearby table and sighed.
“’Into character?’ What, you’re trying to get into the mind of some rich new Japanese client or something? This some kind of visualization exercise?”
If that sort of thing motivated his clothing choices, many of them made even less sense than before—or some of their clients were far freakier than she’d realized.
Peyton shook his head. “The Japanese are famous for loyalty and all that.” The corners of his mouth pulled up in a smile, and he rubbed his hands together.
Shay didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. “And why do you need to get into the mindset of a loyal person?”
“Uh, just, you know, always a good thing. Loyalty, that is.” Peyton shrugged.
Fuck. Please don’t have screwed me, Peyton. I actually like you at this point, and I even gave Brownstone a big speech about how the old Shay was dead. Don’t bring her back, Mr. Fancy Robe. I almost want to believe what Alison’s told me about my soul not looking like a piece of shit.
She’d already disabled his Deadman’s Switch and hadn’t received any alerts about him bypassing her efforts. In terms of pure computer skills, Shay would acknowledge, at least to herself, that the man had the edge over her. However, his lack of killer instinct and its accompanying paranoia would always put him at a
