Amelia put her hand to his face as if she felt sorry for him. “Mind my drawing.”
“I will.” He helped her down, she took Camille’s hand, and they left together, then he beckoned Lenny in. “Take a seat.” He was suddenly dry-mouthed and wished he had something liquid to fill the red cups. Amelia had been a good foil, and now that it was just the two of them, he worried why Lenny was here.
She came forward and took the seat opposite him, nodding at the cups. “What were you playing?”
He lifted them one by one, put the button under the middle one, and then shuffled them, making sure never to move the middle one. “Pick a cup.”
She crossed her arms. “Did that work with Amelia?”
“Pick a cup and I’ll tell you.”
With a puff of annoyance, she pointed at the middle one. He pulled the same trick he’d pulled on Amelia, removing the button as he showed the cup.
“No way,” Lenny said.
He picked up the cup to the left, and Lenny shot forward in her chair as the two buttons were revealed. “How did you do that?”
“I had a lonely childhood.”
She picked up the cup and the buttons and examined them, holding the cup up to the light. “This is just an ordinary cup.”
“Most cons are ordinary. The more fantastical you make them, the more details you have to remember to shuffle, the more mistakes you can make, and the more gullible your marks have to be. I’m not saying a con can’t be elaborate and have a lot of moving parts, but there is elegance in simplicity.”
She put the cup down and tossed the buttons in one hand. “I want to be PowerPoint Girl to your Excel Boy.”
He’d have fallen out of his chair if it hadn’t been an original Eames and therefore impossible. All the same, he gripped the edge of his desk. He’d dreamed about this. It was nightmare for Lenny.
“I want to help you take down Cookie Jar. I won’t do anything illegal or act as bait in any sexual sense, and I want to be long gone before you pull the rug out from under him. But I’ll be the light and sound show you need to reel Sonny Ozols in.”
The glasstop was cold and smooth under his fingers; Lenny’s idea was a dumpster fire. “No.” What was she thinking? “That’s not a good idea.”
“It’s exactly what you wanted.”
Yes. Fuck, yes. But that didn’t make it smart. He put his glasses on and took them off again. “Yes, okay, I thought having a partner— I wondered what it would be like, but it’s not— No.”
He palmed his face and she laughed. “I’ve shocked you.”
Into telling her what she should do again. “Damn near rendered me speechless. Why would you want to do this?”
“Do my motives matter?”
“Yes, they do. I understood them before. They don’t make any sense to me now.”
“Do you want to do this or not? PowerPoint Girl and Excel Boy take on Cookie Jar.”
He groaned. “You’ve made it sound like World Series Wrestling.”
“I wasn’t banking on there being any physical contact.”
Well, fuck again. He wanted to round his desk and scoop her into his arms as if she were in danger and he alone could protect her. And she was in danger—from him and his bad influence. This was an appallingidea.
“No slamming my head into any hard surfaces,” she said.
That’s exactly what he needed—his head, a hard surface, repeated slamming. “I should never have talked about this.”
“I’ve thought this through and I want to do it, and it shouldn’t matter why.”
“But it does matter. If we’re going to be partners, we’d have to trust each other.”