Page 75 of Merciless Heir
“I felt like slumming it.”
I laugh and take the cup. It isn’t from a crap bodega. This is from one of the retro-style coffee places on Avenue C, barista made. I narrow my eyes from him after I take a sip.
“I lied,” he says. “There are only so many sacrifices a man can make and good coffee isn’t one of them.”
“You’re not being wheeled about on a golden platform, so there’s hope for you.”
I start walking. I don’t look back or wait. Kingston Sinclair is there, easily keeping my pace as we power down the street in the early morning.
“I don’t know when it became verbally beat up the billionaire week, but you keep upping the ante in your insults,” he says with way too much cheer for seven-thirty a.m. “Is there a prize at the end of the week?”
“No. I’m just doing it for fun.” And to cover the spot of pain that lurks dark and dank in my chest, right down deep where I can’t get to it. “How did you know I’d be up early?”
He shrugs. “I just figured you were wanting to get a jump on the counterfeit. And I have your photos.”
Kingston pulls a manilla envelope from his beautiful jacket that’s probably yak silk. I don’t know if there’s such a thing, but if there is and it’s rare and expensive, then he’ll have it.
I’m being horrible and unfair, because he might have a thing for ridiculously expensive watches, but he’s not anything like the people I usually work for, who love to show off through money. For someone like him, he’s remarkably down to earth and I find that dangerous. To me.
“Thanks.” I shove the envelope in my bag and swing it back onto my shoulder, managing not to spill or drop the coffee.
“You’re welcome.” We pause at the lights. “But I was going to ring your bell if you hadn’t appeared.”
I glance at him. “Not let yourself into the building like yesterday?”
“No, I like to keep the element of surprise.”
An itch to ask starts, but I keep my mouth firmly shut, even as his twitches up in a smile.
“You want to ask, don’t you, Sadie?” Kingston shakes his head, his breath little fleeting puffs of white. “Good to know.”
“Did you just come to annoy me?”
“The photos?”
“Nope. You want more.”
“Damn fucking right. I want to follow up on our conversation last night.” The smile is gone as we continue walking toward the East Village.
I huff out a breath. “I told you I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re doing it today.” This isn’t a question and we both know it. “Time’s getting shorter. I need this underway today or we have to hit the drawing board again. So, where are we off to?”
I’m off to see Athena. He—he can do whatever he damn well wants. I shove my free hand in my pocket and take a swallow of the cooling coffee. There’s too little milk for my liking and no sugar, but I’m guessing this is how he sees me liking my brew—almost black and bitter.
Pretty apt, I guess.
“This is going to cost you. Because this needs to be good enough that it’ll pull the wool over expert eyes. If it comes down to that.”
He stops and I do, too.
“Explain, Sadie.”
“If this is shown to Jenson and your mother and they call someone in, then we have to make it look like the real deal. The upside is if they don’t have the real one, then the expert will have to go on what they know about the jeweler.”
He frowns and someone yells at us for blocking the path. Kingston mutters something and takes my arm, leading me to the side near a building. “We’re planning on going that far?”
“Prepare for all contingencies,” I say. “And…” I suck in a breath, because this is something I spent hours thinking about, long after he left. “I don’t like to lose, but I’m not above subterfuge.”