Page 39

“I just really love Fridays.” I snicker as Sonny huffs out an impatient sigh. “Nothing’s happened. Not really.”

Sonny’s eyes brighten. “Aha! So, something happened.”

“What happened?”

Jared, another carpenter and Bill, my boss, join us with drinks.

“Nothing happened,” I assure him.

Sonny scoffs, shaking his shaggy black hair out of his eyes. “Bullshit. Peaches got lucky.”

Jared’s mouth makes an ‘o’ shape as he plops down next to Sonny. “Finally!”

“I didn’t get lucky.”

“Butsomethinghappened,” Sonny insists. Jared leans in on his forearms, sliding a beer over to Sonny.

Bill sits down next to me with a tired groan and slides me a ginger beer. “Listen to you bloody gossips. Shut up and drink your beers.”

“Cheers, boss,” I say.

Sonny ignores him. “Come on. Details. You never give us details.”

“I’m never giving you details.”

Sonny grins. “She’s working her vixen magic on you. You’re going soft.”

“God, you talk some shit.”

Sonny feigns offence. “I am outraged.”

“You are not.” My phone buzzes in my pocket and I slide it out, unable to hide my elated surprise when I see Kali’s name on the screen. “Sup, Red?”

“Bonetti, I need a favour.” Her voice is a drug. She could ask me for anything right now and I’d do it.

“So soon? You’ve had a taste and now you want more?” Sonny leans in to listen and I shove my hand against his head.

“I knew it was a mistake to call you,” she groans. “Forget it, I can’t be-”

“Easy, easy. I’m only playing. What do you need?”

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Is there any chance you can come to the studio? Like, right now? The electrician’s meant to be here in fifteen minutes, but I got a call from the bank saying I missed a signature on a form. I’ve got to get back there before five o’clock, but preferably as soon as possible. Knowing my luck, it’ll probably take ages to sort out.”

I lean back to glance at the time, realising she’s only got a couple of hours to get everything done. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Thank you.”

Kali pauses for an extra beat and my senses prickle. “What’s wrong?”

“Those kids have been back,” she murmurs.

A protective surge of anger charges through my body. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but they spray painted the front; the roller door, the brick walls, the roof. They even waved to the camera when they finished.” I hear the quiver in her voice that she’s almost certainly doing her best to hide.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes,” I reply, taking another swig of my drink. “I’ll take care of the electrician and you go do what you need to do. If you run into any strife, call me straight away.”

“I will,” she promises. “Thank you.”