“It’s my business if Kings start trying to kill each other. You and Sol need to sit down and figure this out.”
Arvo waded back to the opposite side of the pool and hitched his arms up. He looked at me like I was a less-than-compelling movie.
“You know, Biba,” he said. “You’re not in a position to be asking favors of me.”
“What would make you . . . more amenable to my request?”
His tongue burrowed in his cheek, a signal that he was thinking—and his thoughts were not wholesome.
“All I want,” he said at last, “is a little equity in this exchange.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re up there, towering above me. It just doesn’t seem fair, does it? Why don’t you join me in the water?”
I sighed. “I don’t have a suit.”
“I didn’t ask if you did.”
What a creep. I had to dig a fingernail into my palm to calm my boiling indignation. It would have felt nice to tell him to go to hell, but that would get me nothing. Getting in the pool was a small concession to keep him on the line, and having me stripped down and wet might keep him talking for a while. So much the better to convince him to bury the hatchet with Sol.
So I flashed Arvo a smirk and peeled off my blouse. I kicked off my sneakers and socks and unzipped my jeans. As luck would have it, I was wearing my most utilitarian gray cotton bra and undies. I slid into the warm liquid.
Arvo clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“That’s it?”
“Did you expect a show?”
“More of one.”
“Play your cards right, Hurley, and we’ll see.”
I was vamping a bit in the water, wiggling my hips like a burlesque performer. It was all for his benefit. The more I played it up, the more control I had over the situation.
I couldn’t have total control, though. I was enjoying it too much. More perilously, I was kind of hoping Arvo would call my bluff. Those glistening, wet muscles and that unseemly grin gave me tiny tingles all over.
He kicked off the wall and slowly drifted toward me. I kept my back against the tile, and my foot braced on the floor. I was in the shallow end and wanted to be able to kick off and run if I needed to.
“Give me your pitch, Quinn,” he drawled, approaching.
“I don’t know what your problem with Sol is, but the whole thing has gone too far. He got the shit beat out of him last night. If something happens to him while Zephyr is gone, there will be hell to pay when he comes back.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t agree, and unlike you, I’ve talked to Zephyr. Recently. I know what he wants.”
“This isn’t good for the Kings. Disunity, suspicion, in-fighting—this is how Schmidt will divide you guys. And what happens then?”
By that point, Arvo was inches from me. He placed a hand on the ledge of the pool on either side of my body, locking me where I was. I began to fear I’d miscalculated.
“Biba, dear,” he whispered, “I’m going to do you the favor of pretending we never had this talk. You don’t want to side with Stamos.”
“Now listen—”
“Shhhh. . . .”