Page 77 of Boss from Hell

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Page 77 of Boss from Hell

“They’ll put their foot wrong soon enough. As you said, they’re amateurs and they won’t see us coming. The net is set and waiting.”

“Good.”

The lift doors opened and we stepped out. “Shall we just go around the corner to the Bear Trap?” Chris asked.

“Sure, why not?” I muttered unenthusiastically.

Chris’s hand shot out to grasp my elbow suddenly. “What’s the matter, Max?”

I stopped walking and turned towards him. “Nothing. It’s just this situation. It’s got to me.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted. “It’s something else, isn’t it?”

I said nothing and he frowned. “It’s not a woman…” He stared at me. “Oh my God!” Then he began to laugh uproariously. “It’s a fucking woman. I can’t believe it, the great Max Frost has fallen in love.”

I shook my arm off. “Go to hell,” I snarled and strode away fast.

He caught up. “Relax, man. It’s something to be celebrated, not be mad about.”

We got out of the building into the noise of the traffic.

“Do I know her?” he asked.

“It’s Lillian, okay.”

His jaw dropped with shock. “What?”

“See. Nothing to be celebrated,” I said bitterly.

“She’s not even your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” I corrected wryly.

“Yes, you do. Jennifer calls them girls with sad fridges.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“Skinny girls. Evolutionary freaks who have managed to overcome the basic instinct to eat and turned it into a fashion statement. Have you seen the inside of their fridges? Always almost empty.”

He might have a point, but I was not in the mood. I shook my head in disgust and left him standing in front of the building as I headed towards the Bear Trap. A few seconds later he fell into step beside me. He was no longer laughing. In fact, he looked so somber I almost wanted to laugh.

He looked sideways at me. “We still think she’s the mole, right?”

I sighed. “Yes, we do.”

“Right.” He was silent for a while. “What are you going to do, Max?”

“Nothing. The ball is in their court. We carry on as before.”

“I mean with Lillian. Are you… er… sleeping with her.”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, what a mess?”

Yeah, a fucking mess. We came to a stop at the crosswalk with tens of other people.

“Um… you know, I invited her to the wedding, right?”




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