The ice rink was mercifully empty.
“Got some news for you. You told me your brother-in-law had gotten a tip that Stefano wasn’t as active in the Sinners at the time of the murder, right?”
Ryan nodded. Brent had shared that detail during the pool game at his house, something he’d heard from Mindy. But everything was hearsay still, and Ryan was hoping that could change soon.
“I think I know why.”
“Tell me,” Ryan said, and a mix of both desperation and anticipation gripped him. He wanted a fact. He prayed Marshall was dealing in that currency.
“Seems like Stefano had a broker,” he began, and Ryan furrowed his brow in a question. Marshall made a rolling gesture with his hand to explain. “Like his guy who set up his hits.”
The ice in the rink had nothing on Ryan right now. He was chilled to the bone. His body turned subzero just hearing how that killer operated. “This guy set up murders for hire?”
Marshall nodded. “He brokered them. The Sinners were all about drugs then, and stealing. Fencing stolen goods, some territory battles—the usual gang stuff, to be honest. But, sadly, there’s money in murder, too, so the broker started working that angle for his boy Stefano.” Marshall shook his head in disgust. Ryan gritted his teeth, trying to tamp down the treacherous ball of rage that lived inside of him at times like this. “Sounds like he’s one of the guys the detectives are looking for.”
“T.J. and K.,” Ryan said in a hiss, the initials slithering out of his mouth. “That has to be them. His friends. His fucking accomplices. Who the hell are they? Do you know their names?”
“That’s the problem. They’re slippery. They’re smarter than you’d expect a bunch of street thugs to be. The Sinners were quiet for awhile, sort of fell apart, but are now rising up again, and the word is this guy has played a role in some serious shit that went down. But we don’t have a name yet. Not a real one, at least. Detective would probably sell an arm for a name.”
Ryan probably would, too.
* * *
The week flew forward, hurtling toward the benefit in a heady blur of emails and texts, of days and nights, of sex and sleepovers, of dinners and drinks, and time…so much time together and so much desire for more time.
Tonight was the next big step.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 4:58 PM
subject: I’m so not nervous at all.
You swear they don’t bite? I ask because, well, you bite.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:05 PM
subject: You have nothing to be nervous about.
My brothers better not bite you. As for Shannon, I make no promises.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:17 PM
subject: Dress code?
What are you wearing?
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:22 PM
subject: The usual.
Pants, shirt, tie.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:35 PM
subject: Now you’re turning me on.
I’ll wear a dress. You’re shocked, I know.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:37 PM
subject: On a scale of 1–10…
How turned on?
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:41 PM
subject: Zero.
Now I’m nervous again. I need to go get ready. Jumping in the shower. See you soon.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:42 PM
subject: Breathe easy, beautiful.
They will adore you.
* * *
She was ready.
After her pulse had slowed to a normal level, and her rapid breathing settled. After she gave herself more pep talks than she had ever needed when pitching to investors or proposing media companies use her compression services. And after taking more deep breaths than she’d ever required before walking into a billionaire’s office with her head held high and asking him or her to generously support a cause.
She’d handled those situations without batting an eyelash.
But meeting the people who Ryan cared about most was new to her. She had no clue what to expect as she headed into the Chandelier Bar in the middle of the Cosmopolitan Hotel. Two-story strands of crystals spilled from the ceiling, enrobing nearly the entire establishment. Faint purple lights cast pretty streaks across the bar.
She was decked out in a simple red linen dress with a hip-hugging pencil skirt and a strappy bodice. White piping lined the neck and the hem, giving the dress the retro look she embraced. Her earrings matched, and her lipstick was red and neat.
She’d only checked twenty times on the way from her building to the nearby hotel.
The dark-haired Shannon arrived first with her husband and immediately wrapped Sophie in a big hug. Well, it was a little hug, because Shannon was a pipsqueak.
After the embrace and hellos, Sophie placed her palms together as if in prayer and pleaded, “Will you please tell me everything you have in store for the Dance All Night reunion special? I promise I’ll be your best friend forever if you do.”
Shannon eyed Ryan approvingly and squeezed Sophie’s shoulder. “I like her. Keep her around.”
“The big secret is…she’s bringing me on the show. I have all the moves,” her husband Brent said, adding a gyration of his hips like a stripper.
Shannon rolled her eyes. “You wish.”
“Hey! I know you!” Sophie said excitedly, pointing at Brent. He was tall, sturdy, and had sparkling brown eyes. “Your late-night show was the best. And King Schmuck cracked me up on many occasions.”
Brent nodded at Shannon. “What she said. I second it. I like you, too.”
Soon, Michael and Colin joined them, and Sophie understood what Ryan had meant by Michael’s intensity. He was like a sheepdog guarding the flock, even in the middle of a chichi Vegas bar. He had that ‘my-eyes-are-everywhere’ watchfulness in his cool blue gaze. His eyes were lighter than Ryan’s but his hair was darker, making for an interesting contrast. Colin was the laid-back one, easy-going, quick with a joke, and even able to hold his own among Brent, the former comedian, as well as two super protective older brothers. He had an infinity symbol tattoo on his wrist, with four interlocking circles in black ink, nearly the same shade as his hair.
Colin also was a kindred spirit, and as a venture capitalist he inhabited some of the same worlds Sophie had trafficked in. “I had my eye on your second round of funding for InCode several years ago,” he said. “I tried to get in on it, but it was too late.”
“Oh no! Shame on me then,” Sophie said, lightly smacking her own hand, admonishing herself.
“Yeah, it’s one of my greatest regrets in business. That was a hell of a sale you had.”
“Thank you,” she said with a wide smile.
“I’m looking at some startups that are playing in the same space. I’d love to get your thoughts sometime,” he added, taking a drink of what looked to be iced tea.
“I’d be delighted to talk shop. I haven’t had the chance in ages.”
“Then we’ll make it a date,” Colin said with a wink.
“Date?” Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow as he draped an arm around her.
She turned to look at him, and couldn’t resist planting a kiss on his cheek. “Just to talk numbers and other geeky things.”
Michael whistled under his breath. “And Ryan Sloan gets a kiss in public from the first girl he ever introduces us to,” he said, holding up his palm to high-five Shannon, then Colin. “I knew he liked her for real.”
Ryan made a pshaw sound, then must have decided to say screw it, because he grabbed Sophie, dipped her, and kissed her deeply in front of them all. The hooting and hollering intensified. The clapping grew sonic. When he pulled her up, she felt woozy and stunned, and she was sure her lipstick was smeared.