Hiding Sparrows

27. Make you beg

"We're going to lunch," Ty declared, after getting off the phone. Azael had just turned off the highway, where we had been previously heading into the city, so now we were going east, towards the ocean.

"To lunch?" I asked, confused. "Why the office clothes?"

This seemed to tweak something in Ty's head, as he reached down and drew from the same place he'd pulled my dress, a pair of sleek navy heels. As he passed them to me, he spoke.

"It's a business lunch," he said. "We're meeting a man named Daniel Whittle."

"Who is he?" I asked, pulling my leg up to undo my sneakers and put on the heels.

"A potential client," Ty replied, tucking his phone into an inside pocket of his tailored jacket.

God, he looked good in business wear. Something about the rugged face, the tattoos, and the neat, black jacket did... something to me.

Ty kept talking, either not noticing or ignoring my distracted reverie. "He's a lot like Tristan, that you met last week. Same kind of stuck up trust fund kid. Only difference is, he's older, more intelligent, and has a hell of a lot more influence."

He reached to the same place he'd drawn my dress from and pulled out a black folder. Except, with a flick of the wrist, he drew it open and I realised it wasn't a folder at all, rather, a slim black tablet. He passed it across to me, displaying some kind of profile.

"Whittle's the CEO of a logistics company," Ty continued as I skimmed through the info. "Took over from his father after a sudden heart attack a few months back. Daniel's old man and I ran in similar circles, but he always refused to work with me. Didn't want to muddy his waters, he said. But Daniel is a lot less conservative, and has assets he's looking to invest. My objective for this lunch is to convince him that I'm the one to invest them."

According to the tablet, Whittle was a 34 year old man, with soft features and black hair. His features reminded me of Adam Driver, although I didn't voice this to Ty. The thought of comparing our lunch guest to a Star Wars actor felt a little out of pocket.

"So, why am I here, then?" I asked. "Because I hardly think stealing from him is going to help your business relationship."

He chuckled. "No, I don't need you to be a klepto. Today, you're here as the resident hot girl."

"Excuse me?" I said, looking back down at the medium-ugly face on the screen.

He leaned across and gently touched my leg. "Relax. He's a respectful man, by all accounts, and you don't have to do so much as light flirting if it's not comfortable for you. But, he's of an old school sort of breed, very much like his father in a lot of ways. Typical, pig-headed misogynist, even if he'd never admit it. You, are there because of that, to help put him at ease."

"What, so he'll think he can fuck me if he partners with you?" I asked, revolted.

His eyes went dark. "He's not going to lay a hand on you. If he tries, the deal is off."

"Then, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" I asked, interrupting him. "You're saying two different things right now, Ty."

"You will be there as a colleague. To show him that whoever I do business with, I do not discriminate, including with my own staff."

"So, what, I'm your staff now?" I scoffed.

He shook his head. "Would you just chill the fuck out, Robin? I'm not a fucking pimp, and I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think you had the confidence and guts to pull it off, so would you quit acting like a child and let me finish?"