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"I thought you were supposed to be good at this," I whisper, wondering why he's panicking.

"You didn't tell me Harold Cole was in on it, and I didn't have enough time to research this as thoroughly as I needed to."

Harold who?

"Who is Harold Cole?"

"The guy with Leonard Mars. He's a big time player in the game, but no one can ever find any evidence to prove his guilt. He's been lying low for the past five years. I guess I know why now," he says, making sure to keep his voice low.

"Harry Talbot is Harold Cole? He's the manager here. Has been for a while."

"Damn it. I knew this was rushed, but your father would have done it on his own if I hadn't hurried."

The voices carry through the door, forcing us to stop our whispered conversation.

"It's all taken care of. We need to hurry up and get this charade of a meeting over with," Harry... or Harold says.

"We have to keep up appearances. Paul Colton is a vicious man with too much money and influence. If it looks like we're running the business into the ground, he'll start using it as an angle in court. We have to make it look as though Henrietta loves this place as much as Thomas. We've just gotten started."

Like every cliché fucking movie I've ever seen, I move wrong and a stupid box falls from a perch and claps to the floor. Brody slaps his forehead in exasperation before he starts fumbling with his belt. What the hell is he doing with his belt?

"Check it out," Harold says, not bothering to whisper.

I don't know what the hell happens, but suddenly I'm against the back wall, my legs are wrapped around Brody's waist, and his lips are on mine. His pants are opened, my dress has risen up, and he's grinding against me. Oh hell no. I start to push him away and slap the hell out of him, wondering where the crap his sanity has gone, when the door swings open.

Brody moans as though he's doing more than simply grinding against me, and I realize what's going on. A few chuckles emerge from behind him, and I start playing along. Of course, the kiss gets sloppy and terrible when I tighten my lips and refuse to allow his tongue access. Tongue is really not necessary, in my opinion.

The door shuts back and the chuckles continue as they start walking away.

"Let's go help Henrietta with the clients. Apparently half of them already like the place," Leonard jokes from farther away.

I break away from the wet kiss, and slap Brody. Albeit it's a pathetic girly slap, but I felt some reaction was warranted. I'm not really well versed with violence. My attempt to inflict pain merely provokes a low snicker from him.

"You could have warned me," I hiss as he puts me back down and starts redoing his pants.

"Action was all we had time for. Not spoken plans and warnings. Come on. We've got a short window."

I follow him out of the storage room, still considering slapping him harder. I'd probably earn another chuckle instead of doing any real harm. Jerk.

When we reach the cellar door, he motions for me to go in.

"You're not coming?" I ask, turning around.

"I can't. I can't watch you type in codes on a safe that doesn't belong to you."

What?

"I thought this was legal," I gripe, pissed that I left the drills behind now.

"It's not... legal. But it's not illegal. It's in a very gray area, considering this place doesn't rightfully belong to her but technically it does. Just go down there and take care of what you need to. I don't need to know the details. Then call me when you're coming back up. I'll find a spot to hide until then."

"It would have been nice if you had informed me of this before we came."

He rolls his eyes before giving me an incredulous look. "Really? Then you would have packed every tool for breaking in you could fit in the car. No way. I can handle a gray area. I can't handle it being straight up illegal."

A few choice words enter my mind, but he shoves me forward and shuts the door before those words can spill through my lips. Coward. I really wish I had at least one or two drills. Dad has the best equipment... even though he's out of the game.

I quickly remove the treacherous heels I'm wearing before I even attempt the stairs, and I hold them in my hand while I creep down, possibly plotting Brody's punishment. If this doesn't work because I don't have the proper equipment, I'm kicking his ass.


Tags: C.M. Owens Sterling Shore Romance