Wait, doesn't matter.
Coleen looks surprised, then she nods. “Sydney says you do personal security, right? How is that?”
“It's … a job,” I say.
I want to be nice to Coleen, but I can already tell this is turning into the New Boyfriend Inquisition. Seen shit like this on TV. She should have brought one of those conference room chairs.
“How did you get involved in it?”
“Um, family business,” I say.
There's the truth if I ever told it.
“Very cool.” Coleen nods again. “Did you grow up here in Phoenix?”
“Yeah,” I say, but it's time to turn this inquisition around. “How about you?”
“No, I'm from Connecticut, but I came out here to go to ASU.”
Syd looks between us with a small smile. “Coleen, I'm going to go get your coffee, okay?”
She glances at me and pushes the smile a little more, then lowers off her stool and heads to the counter.
I turn back to Coleen. “Have you driven the Audi?”
“No way.” She leans over to grab a newspaper off a vacant table. “Syd doesn't let anyone touch it. I'm surprised we're even allowed to breathe near it.”
She flops the newspaper down in front of her. I pick up my drink, but my eyes catch a headline. My brain stalls for a moment. Then I slide the section toward me. Coleen isn't bothered, busy reading away at the political pages.
I turn the paper to face me.
Local Multimillionaire Karl Walker Donates 1.5 Million Dollars to Hospital.
I have to focus to read, because my head is swimming. I never see Karl in the news. Ever. This can't be good. According to the article, he made the donation stating he wanted to see his money put to good use while he is still alive.
Yeah, that's not Karl. He's up to something.
“That guy is a bag of ass,” Syd says, reading over my shoulder.
She returns to her stool and puts another one of the same concoctions in front of Coleen. It's like she's a foofy coffee drink pusher.
“Yeah, I imagine most millionaires are snatch-monkies.” I can't keep my eyes off the headline. “Why would he donate that much to a hospital?”
Syd shrugs. “Purchasing his way through the Pearly Gates, most likely.”
I force myself to put the newspaper aside. Karl isn't buying his way into the afterlife, but he's certainly buying his way into something. I try to act causal. Try to act like the news isn't brewing a certified panic attack in my chest.
Syd can't know how much this bothers me. Otherwise, she'll start asking questions.
Aren't I supposed to be breaking up with her?
“So, Dimitri.” Coleen puts aside her pages. “How long have you been doing personal security?”
My vision tunnels.
Oh, shit.
I fumble from my seat. My hand bumps my coffee.
“Since I was, uh … ”
I can't remember her question.
I have to get out of here. Have to go do—personal security.
“Since I was fifteen.” My voice is detached. “I have to take this call.”
I stagger across the cafe, barely making out the hallway to the restrooms. I push open the door, fumble into a stall, and slam the door behind me.
When I open my eyes, I'm standing in the summoning chamber. Karl looks me up and down. I'm sure I appear as stunned as I feel.
This is why I don't go anywhere. This is why a normal life is out of the question.
“Did I interrupt?” His tone sounds like he hopes he did.
I swallow hard, but don't reply.
He nods to his guards, and a man steps forward to hand me a manila envelope.
Just once, I would like for it to contain tickets to Disneyland.
“I want you to break into that office and steal a safe, Dimitri.”
I'm torn between relief and worry. No kidnapping or killing this time, but I'm not exactly winning awards for my cat burglary skills.
Then he says his favorite words: “This … I … wish.”
My head fills up with the roar like water flooding into my skull. I cringe even though I wish I wouldn't. No showing weakness.
I used to think it would anger Karl. That he considered the genies to be a type of mercenary and expected us to be as unflinching as his guards. Over the years, I've learned more about people. I don't like what I concluded, but I suspect my father already knew.
Showing pain or fear doesn't upset Karl. It delights him.
“You will bring me that safe, Dimitri,” he says.
I clamp my jaw to resist commenting. I don't have a fuckin' choice but to bring him the safe. His little power trips make me want to stomp his windpipe.
I turn to leave, but another guard moves forward. He offers me a new wallet.
Still on his throne, Karl says, “The badge will get you into the office.”
I grab the wallet, stuff it into my pocket, and then exit the chamber. As I head to a front door, I shuffle through the papers from the envelope. The safe is barely more than a private lock box, like the ones sold at Wal-Mart for home use.
All I have to do is scan a badge into the office, grab the safe, and leave. Nothing to it.
I hope.
***