“Yes!” Parker pumps a fist into the air. “Knew you’d have my back, bro.”
My eyes are suddenly a little too focused on Nate. “Don’t tell me you want to date her, too.”
Seriously, don’t tell me. I can’t handle it.
“Hardly.” He pulls on his leather jacket and meets my eyes, a playful light dancing in his irises that I’ve never seen before. “I want to hire her.”
***
“Where are we going?”
“WestTech.” Nate’s hands tighten around the steering wheel as we race past the Convention Center toward the financial district at well above the legal limit. “Your father is overdue for a visit.”
It’s getting dark outside — well past six o’clock — but we all know Milo is still at his office. He’s there till midnight, most nights.
“Fuck.” Parker glowers in the passenger seat. “The old man isn’t going to be thrilled to see me.”
“He’ll probably be a bit preoccupied with the twenty million dollar commission the Irish mob wants in exchange for not slaughtering his only family,” I point out. “I doubt he’ll have time to admonish you about your many failings.”
“He’s surprisingly good at multi-tasking,” Parker says darkly.
I roll my eyes and look out the window as the city blurs by. Maybe I’d feel more sympathy for him if, as soon as we left the loft, he hadn’t called, “Shotgun!” like we’re still adolescents and shoved me toward the back seat. Now, Boo and I are sitting in the back of Nate’s giant SUV, the kind with blacked-out windows I imagine Secret Service members use to escort the President. I would’ve preferred the Viper, but it’s a two-seater and Parker was surprisingly unenthusiastic about my suggestion that he squeeze into the trunk.
Go figure.
Twenty minutes later, Boo’s tugging his leash so hard, I’m practically running to keep up as we move through the lobby of a gleaming glass skyscraper in the heart of the South End, where the WestTech executive offices are housed. I nod to Bill, the security guard behind the front desk, when we reach him.
“Hi, Bill. Empty in here, tonight.”
“Wednesdays – always quiet, Miss West.” He folds his newspaper and peers over the counter. “Hello, Boo.”
The little dog barks promptly at the sound of his name, sits in a perfect show of posture, and waits, his stare never wavering from Bill, his short tail wagging furiously.
Bill isn’t just my favorite lobby guy — he’s Boo’s, too.
After a second, the aging security guard reaches beneath his desk and retrieves one of the mini milk bones he keeps there. It’s become a tradition of sorts, since the first time I brought Boo with me to work last year.
“Speak,” Bill commands, his kind eyes locked on my dog.
Two short barks erupt from Boo’s mouth.
“Paws.”
Tiny white paws shoot into the air, as the dog balances on his back feet.
“Lie down,” Bill says, nodding.
Boo’s front paws slide across the marble until he’s totally flat on the floor.
“Roll.”
Boo flips onto his back in one swift move.
“Good boy,” Bill says, smiling as he tosses the tiny bone into the air. Boo’s back on four paws as soon as it leaves his hand. He catches it before it hits the ground and devours it with glee at my feet.
Hell. I buy him food, give him toys, take him out at midnight when he needs to pee, brush his coat until it’s shiny… and in return, the little demon uses my Manolos as chew toys, ignores my every command, and will barely walk straight for me on a leash. Put him in front of a virtual stranger with a milk bone, though, and he’ll do circus tricks.
I look from the dog to Bill, whose smile is as warm as his eyes.
“Brought some friends with you today, Miss West?” he inquires, looking at the men flanking my sides like bodyguards.
“Bill, come on now.” I shoot him a look. “It’s Phoebe and you know it.”
“Uh huh.” His mustache twitches when he smiles.
I shake my head, knowing he’ll never comply with my wishes. “This is my brother, Parker, and my…” I glance at Nate. What is he?