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“Yeah, the nephew,” the way he says nephew might as well be a slur. I know all I need to know about the man Ragucci’s training to take his place—unsuitable, slick or incompetent or both, but shady. Shady is a given from the tone of his voice alone.

“That good?” I say sarcastically.

“Whatever you’re imagining, make it worse, then add too much hair gel and a suit that looks like he got it on clearance at a factory outlet.”

“All suits 29.99?” I venture.

“That seems like he got ripped off if he paid 29.99 for it. Acts like—”

“A baller? I know the type. God, you should see them out in LA. Every guy that goes to the gym or has decent shoes acts like he’s just one audition, one dental floss commercial from getting to thank the Academy for his Oscar. They all know a guy and say they have anin.” I roll my eyes heavily.

“I bet you were besieged out there.”

“Besieged?” I lift an eyebrow.

“Surrounded? Bothered constantly in grocery stores and coffee shops and clubs, hounded by guys with shiny teeth and empty promises?”

“I wouldn’t say I was besieged or even especially popular. All you gotta be out in LA is easily impressed, that’s what they like. Somebody to look wide-eyed and amazed when they tell the same shitty story for the fifth time about how they’re gonna make it big or they got in on this crypto deal—it’s the fakest thing you’ve ever seen. They’re literally all the same. Every guy, the entire time I was out there.”

“None of those boys knew where to get good cheese dip?” he jokes. I give him a shrug.

“Nobody eats dairy or carbs so there wouldn’t be a market for cheese dip.”

“God forbid I should see that place,” he says with a mock shudder and I laugh.

“It’s not bad. A lot of the food was good, it’s just really healthy and there’s sprouts on everything.”

“Even dessert?”

“What’s dessert? Dessert is a spirulina algae smoothie with kale and whatever else gets blitzed in there to make it a muddy green color that tastes like a can of paint.”

“You’re not gonna get a job for the tourism board at this rate,” he says wryly.

“I’m not trying to convince you to go there,” I point out, “I’m just making conversation. You brought up thenephew.” I say the word just like he did, like it’s a major insult. He chuckles.

“Was I that obvious?”

“Worse,” I say.

“I want you to take over for Ragucci. Just till he’s back on his feet.”

I’m taken aback by the offer. It seemed like a huge opportunity, seeing that Ben was the chief accounting officer. With all the projects that Mickey runs, it seemed like a large amount of workload to take over. Plus, it might notallbe legit.

“You have a team of finance guys, I bet. Surely one of them or three or four could handle this in Ragucci’s absence. They’ll know how he does things and have a feel for his methods. Be familiar with the software he likes, stuff like that,” I protest.

“You’re telling me you can’t do the work?”

“No, of course I can do the work,” I say hotly. “It’s not that. Rory would be so pissed if I worked for the real side of the business. He wants me on the fluffy side where it’s fully legal. I don’t know if he thinks I’ll turn to a life of crime and go knock over an ice cream shop for extra nickels or what.”

“You’re worried what your brother will think. That’s respectful, I like that, but he isn’t in charge of your decisions. You are. Do you want to learn the ropes behind the scenes at the Pearl?”

“The Pearl,” I repeat, tasting the word. A kick of adrenaline zips through me, excitement to peek behind the curtain at the illegal businesses and learn how they run. It could be educational—a chance to apply all the skills I learned to watch out for, obvious mistakes, sloppy cover-ups that could expose suspicious activity.

“I can give you a tour, then let you make up your mind.”

“I’d like a walk-through if you have half an hour,” I say, trying to dampen my enthusiasm and failing.

“It takes more than half an hour to see all the Pearl has to offer, but we can keep it brief. Are you considering my offer?”