The Van Linsteds had tied themselves into a nice little knot. Jameson was headed that way himself with his shady business dealings and his father’s obsession with art. There was so much potential for corruption, and that could help us out along the way.
Middleton appeared clean, but I knew he wasn’t. His hands had been sullied ten years ago; his family was just better at hiding it. They were professionals at spinning narratives in their crisis management agency, after all.
If nothing else his family had been covering up for his sins.
Bridge nodded. "If East can't find something, it's well hidden, or he’s lost his touch and we'll need more time. It’s better to be as surgical as possible, and we will. After all, we are the London Lords. Well, Ben is half a lord now since he gave his balls to Liv."
Ben cleared his throat. "Seriously, mates, I'm right here. Big hairy brass ones perfectly intact, thanks."
I rolled my eyes. "Would everyone just shut the fuck up? All of you. I know that you think I can just punch a couple of numbers and yeah, I’ll Hogwarts my way into something good. We need something we can use. Something that will stick. And right now, we don't have it. Unless our not-so-illustrious leader wants to dig into Elite inner workings."
Jameson was a twat. And if I had to, I was going to use Theroux to get him just where we wanted him.
Ben met my gaze. "Grousing and shit talking aside, we know you’ll get what we need. If Jameson is the one we can get dirt on, then he's the one we’ll take down first. We'll make it work."
"What we have is a start. We’ll need more. I need access to his computer, which means getting into his office. The old man’s birthday is this coming weekend. Distaste or not, we’ll be invited. Ben is the most powerful man in the entire world. We are his entourage. And we are the London Lords. No one can touch us."
Except Theroux.
Bridge stroked his jaw. "First of all, I’m nobody’s entourage. But also, there are two sides to every coin. As powerful as we are, there are others who would do anything for that power. We need to be careful.”
“That we do,” mumbled Ben. “Oh, before I go, East didn’t you say your mother had the name of some designer for Livy for her wedding dress?”
“Oh yeah. It’s in my wallet. Let me grab that for you.” I shoved away from my bank of monitors over to the entryway where I normally left it, but it wasn’t there.
With a frown, I checked the closet in case I’d left it in my trench from yesterday when it was pouring down. Still no luck. I eventually found it next to my nightstand. Riffling through it while I walked, I found the business card I was looking for. My mother, she really did like to keep it old school.
My feet halted when I found something else. A tiny square film on the inside sleeve. I peered at the little patch. It looked like a computer chip.
Son of a bitch. She’d bugged me.
Grinding my teeth, I returned to the living room and gave Ben the card. When everyone left, I grabbed one of my laptops and pulled up my favorite scene, the CCTV camera from the parking tower across from Nyla Kincade's flat.
As I tapped in the coordinates, I rubbed the smooth silkiness of her shawl that she’d dropped between the fingers of my left hand.
You have a problem.
Yes, I did. And the problem's name was Nyla Kincade. Bringing her shawl up to my nose, I took a quick whiff and that heady combination of need and irritation lingered in my blood, sending me to the edge of desire. I watched her. I had never trained the camera on her bedroom, never looked in there, but the sight from her living room was what I focused on. And that was somehow more intimate. I watched her as she cooked and then plopped on her couch to watch TV. My favorite was her in her unicorn fitted pajamas. But that night, she wasn’t wearing her unicorn fitted pajamas. She strolled out of her bedroom in the tiniest pair of shorts I'd ever seen.
What I wanted to do was pick her up and put her over my knee, but a phone call would have to do.
Her words were quiet as she answered. “Hello?”
"Agent Kincade. You've been very naughty."
Instead of hanging up on me, which she probably should have, she sighed. "East Hale. To what do I owe this very late phone call? Did you mistake my phone number for a phone sex line?"
"I can get women to talk dirty to me any time I like."
Her chuckle was low. "I’ll bet you can.”
“For such a naughty little thing, I’d have thought you’d be more contrite.”
She strolled past her windows, hips sashaying as she went. All the blood in my rational brain rushed to my dick. “You are going to have to be more specific. This has been that kind of day. Did I scratch your precious car? Perhaps I made your day more difficult. And if you are going to tear me a new one, I would advise you maybe take a number. The line for that can get quite long, you see."
I frowned at that. She'd had a hard day?
Not that it matters to you in the least.
Nope, it didn't matter. But still, I didn’t want to make her day worse.
"I'm sorry you've had a shitty day. I have an idea or two of things that might cheer you up."
Her chuckle was soft. Lilting. "Oh, I'm sure you do. But alas, that's not going to happen. I don’t kiss arrogant men.”
“Now, don’t add lying to your day’s transgressions.”
“What is it you want, Mr. Hale?"
"Well, Agent Kincade, I would like your assistance. It seems that someone
