The sounds of the chair creaking and feet shuffling across the carpet encouraged me that I might actually be able to escape this stifling curtain.
“We need to move this thing. I don’t want him sniffing around, and I sure as hell don’t want him coming back with a warrant and taking something that belongs to me. I don’t give a shit what kind of information he thinks is on the damned thing. I’ll never get it back in one piece if the government gets their hands on it.”
“You sure you want me to move it now?” Levi asked. “Maybe we need to wait until the security guy is out of the house.”
“Not worried about that guy,” Tommy scoffed. “What would he be looking at me for? Besides, he’s a Champion. If I know his mother, the man’s never worked a day in his life. He’s too busy helping his fiancé order Rissy’s invitations. Move the Horn now before the fed comes back.”
“You got it, boss,” Levi agreed.
I rolled my eyes. Being a Champion had always been a blessing and a curse—once a thing I’d tried to live up to and then a thing I’d tried to live down—but if it meant that Tommy Drakes underestimated me, I’d happily take it.
Their voices faded as they exited the room, but I needed to know what their plan was. If they moved the Horn, it would be impossible for me to find it again.
I snuck out from behind the curtain and moved quickly to the doorway. I could barely hear them now, but I caught Drakes saying, “Take… farm,” which was enough for me. Hux had mentioned that Drakes had a farm outside the Thicket.
It was Quinn’s lucky day, because we weren’t gonna have to do a tour of all Drakes’s properties. But I was pretty sure he wouldn’t see it that way, because Quinn was so not gonna like what I had to do next.
I needed to get out to that farm, and I needed to do it ASAP, which meant I was about to fuck his mood board to hell and back.
Taking care not to look furtive, I turned in the opposite direction and wandered through the house until I found the front door. I opened and closed it before heading back to the wedding meeting.
Hardly anyone noticed my arrival. Trey was scrolling through his phone as if being in that meeting was the most excruciating waste of his time ever, while Tommy glared at him. And meanwhile, Quinn was gushing about something that had his client and her mother totally enthralled.
He’s really good at his job, I thought with something that felt weirdly like pride. If I had to be fake-engaged to someone for the purposes of this op, at least I’d had the good luck to tie myself to someone competent.
And that made me feel both better and worse about what I needed to do.
“Imagine those big, wide windows in the ballroom, overlooking the pond and the gardens at River Mead, with a wedding arch in front of it.” Quinn sketched in the air with his hand. “Something a little rustic. A little asymmetrical, even. Gardenias. Spray roses. And then Trey in his tux and you in the magnificent simplicity of your dress—”
Quinn paused as I slipped into my seat. “Sorry about that. Got a phone call I had to take.”
He gave me a fake-fond smile. “Ah. You and your urgent work, my Precious Pearl.”
I resisted the urge to laugh. I wasn’t sure which of us was winning this battle of the pet names, but the fact that I looked forward to seeing what he’d come up with next was just one more of the unsettling aspects of my rel—uh. My acquaintanceship with Quinn.
“No, Puddle Duck, that was one of your clients. Brailey.” I name-dropped the famous supermodel I only knew about from having heard guys lust over her when I was still in the Marines. I’d seen her on the cover of one of Quinn’s bridal magazines, so I hoped like hell she was planning a wedding and not already married.
Quinn blinked at me, then frowned.
“You probably shut your ringer off when we got here, which is why she called me for her wedding emergency.” I rolled my eyes while smiling warmly, like I was used to dealing with brides and their eccentricities. “She and Danny want to scrap all their plans at the winery and go full-on farm wedding. Apparently, farms are the hot trend for next year, and they want to jump on it now. She said Esme Covington and Pilar Martinez are getting married at their own farm, but Brailey and Danny don’t have a farm, and all the farms in the area are booked for March, hence the emergency.”
Quinn narrowed his eyes at me. “Well, then. We’ll find her something for June. Thank you, Angel Muffin, but—”