Drake makes me take it easy on Keith and his friends on the pool table that night. “I can’t afford for him to quit on me for you wounding his male pride,” he tells me. I give him a mock-pout, but honestly, I don’t mind. I only have about a hundred on me anyway.
And my brain is whirling so fast with plans that – unless I’m actually shooting – I find it hard to concentrate on the game anyway. Instead I’m furiously typing into my tablet and frowning over it at times before going to another site and then start smiling and typing furiously again.
After I win the last game before the guys decide to take a break and start grilling the steaks, Drake leads me upstairs and sets me in his office. Someone – probably him, since he refuses to play against me anymore – has already set up my laptop and pulled out my chargers and phones and everything.
“Want to tell me what all of this is about now?” he leans against the desk and smirks at me, “I didn’t think anything would distract you from a pool game.”
“I have a little more research to do, but I think I’ve figured it out,” I tell him, “And you gave it to me.”
“I did?” he chuckles, “Please tell me what I gave you and I’ll give you more.”
“When I left that night, I demanded to see who was in charge,” I tell him, already typing into my laptop, “And that’s why I got transferred to Heaven. Michael’s in charge, but he’s not the one running things – I’m positive he’s not. It’s a red herring.”
“Great,” Drake kisses my head, “Then you can refuse your assignment and get out of there.”
“Oh, no, I’m not about to do that,” I tilt my head up to see his eyes for a moment, “It may be a detour, but something really does need to be done there.”
“I knew it,” he spins my chair around to face him, “You are planning something there. Something that’s going to get you locked away from me forever.”
“I promised that I would be the model employee – and I will be, baby,” I tell him, “Yes, I am planning something. But it’s not going to be me who initiates it. I’m not that stupid. If I time things just right, I’ll be gone before any of it goes off. But even if I don’t, he won’t be able to pin anything directly on me.”
“Claire,” he growls out his frustration.
“Trust me, Drake,” I stand up and give him a kiss on the jaw, “I’m going to be eye-candy and do my shifts and come home to you at the end of each. I promise.”
“Do you remember when you accused us at Moira’s of being crazy?” he asks me, pulling me into his arms.
“Yes,” I smile, “I think you still are, by the way.”
“What you’re doing is ten times crazier than anything any of us would ever think of,” he sighs and presses his forehead to mine, “You understand that, don’t you?”
“But that’s why I think it will work,” I tell him, “I still have some numbers to crunch, but I may need a little loan.”
“How much?” he asks me.
“Two hundred and fifty,” I reply.
“Ok,” he pulls out his wallet, his other hand still on my hip.
“Thousand.”
He drops his hand.
“You need two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” he asks me, “Whatever for?”
YOU ARE READING
Sinners and Saints
FantasyHell has demons, imps, succubi and incubi. Not to mention Don Lucifer and Doña Lilith. What does Heaven have to combat that nefarious, meticulous bureaucracy? Overworked priests mired in scandal and an outdated rule book and angels as disassociat...