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I pushed my finger into the palm of my other hand, feeling the solid, physical sensation of it. Pressure felt right. The slight dig of my fingernail into my skin.

“Something on your hand?” Ruth said, pausing in the hall next to me. Inside María’s office, I could hear her having an exasperated discussion with someone from outside the firm. I waved off Ruth.

“Reality check. Making sure I’m not dreaming.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh… the lucid dreaming thing? What, are you actually interested in that stuff? I thought it was just a way to get Garcia’s favor.”

I leaned back against the wall, kicking one foot across the other. “It was. But I don’t know. Stuck with me. Maybe that’s what helped me get Garcia on board anyway.”

She sighed, sinking against the wall next to me. “I ought to get you to give me lessons. You’re damn good at this.”

“I don’t know a lot more about it than you do. Just the stuff Garcia talked about.”

She elbowed me. “Not that. About selling people.”

“Er… that’s human trafficking.”

She rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips. “Lord have mercy. I don’t know why I talk to you.”

I shrugged. I could have sat her down and talked about everything I did—everything I considered when going in to close someone—but people weren’t asking questions like that to actually hear advice. Nobody was that genuine. “I think you’re good at it, too. Different people just have different approaches that work for them. I was the right person to close Garcia. You’re the right person to close someone else. Nothing complicated…”

“What are you creeping around Mother Goose’s office for, anyway?”

I tried to put on a natural expression. “Reporting back. I had the first meeting with our big client.”

She smiled. “So if I hang around, too, I’ll get juicy intel on who it is?”

I waved her off. “Now that we’ve actually met, it’s fine. Cameron Mercier.”

Ruth went wide-eyed. “The lingerie designer? You met her? What’s she like?”

Well, that was a hell of a question. My wet dream was probably off-limits. “Willful,” I said, after a second of consideration. “What you’d expect from a woman with her level of success. She’s learned not to take anything from anyone, and how to project her will. But despite that… surprisingly human.”

“Oh, yeah? That means you found a weird interest of hers, too.”

I laughed. “Nah. Not really. Just… she was so excited about the property.” I rested my head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “It was nice to see, you know? Someone genuinely excited about it all.”

She sighed. “I’ll say. Now that you mention it, why the hell does no one get excited in the first place?”

The answer was because most people’s primary concern is looking cool and impressive and they can’t risk someone knowing they like something, but I wasn’t getting into all of that. Ruth probably knew the answer, anyway. “Maybe we need to bring more party tricks. Do a magic show at the property.”

“Oh, that’ll do something, that’s for sure.” She scratched her head, and she checked both ways before she lowered her voice. “Hey… do you remember Jessica Schafer?”

“She’s the… ag-tech woman we got into Marco’s property, right? January?”

“I got in touch with her. Let her know things were a little dire here—”

“ Ruth. ” I frowned at her. “You can’t go spreading that around everywhere.”

“I didn’t go into too much detail. Relax. Besides, it’s all in the earnings reports, no matter how much María dresses them up. She doesn’t own you. Or me. She can’t make us keep things quiet.”

I pursed my lips, an ugly feeling coiling in my chest. There was no sense chiding her about it. Nobody would change their behavior just from being scolded. “All right, all right. And?”

“She says she could use someone like you.”

“Like me? Ruth—are you looking for jobs for me?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m gonna snap that thing up like it’s the last carton of lo mein on Chinese takeout night if you don’t take it. But I’m worried about you, you know. You’re poised to go down with this ship. Me—I’m an expert at getting out. So I put in a good word for you.”

“Ruth…” I shook my head. “I really appreciate it, but this ship isn’t going anywhere. Cameron Mercier is a good lead. I think we can make this work.”

“You might as well at least talk to her.”

“I’m grateful that you put in a good word for me,” I started, but I didn’t get a chance to finish before the door opened and the man with the gross, greasy blond hair walked out, huffing away, and María stepped out behind him, folding her arms and sinking back against the frame, watching him walk down the hall and disappear into the elevator.

“Mark is a fucking asshole,” she said.

I straightened, following her gaze to the elevators. “That’s the insurance guy?”

“Sadly. I at least bullied him into standing down, so… things will be a little cooler for the next week or two.” She turned to us. “Ruth, it’s good you’re here. I wanted to tell you about London’s new job.”

Ruth put her hands on her hips. “A fashion icon, and you didn’t put me on the case?”

María put her hands up. “So we have a tattler, and we have a woman who thinks she has any right to say the word fashion when she wore a fanny pack to work.”

“It was the trend then.”

María gestured to her office. “Well, fine then. Step inside for a second with me anyway. I have a request.”

I sat down in the chair opposite María’s desk, while Ruth stayed standing, her hands in her pockets. María finished off the dregs at the bottom of her coffee cup before she dropped into her rolling chair, kicking a foot back or so as she spun to the window.

“So, London. How did it go?”

I’d rehearsed this, but I got a cotton mouth again. All I could think about when it came to the whole tour was the way Cameron’s eyes had flared as she’d taken me—the way she’d felt bending me over the table and—

“Better than expected,” I said. “She didn’t like it being over her budget, but she was delighted by the whole place. She wasn’t as interested in the touch-screen wall as we’d hoped. Too attached to the traditional way of doing things. Judging by her reactions, we can afford to cut the square footage a little. And… she’s a big fan of the pool. Really wowed by the rooftop.”

“Not bad. So, shall we cut to the place in Coconut Grove and see if the location moves her?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Coconut Grove is nice, but you expect it to instantly sell her over a Miami Beach penthouse?”

“What, did you not read the report? It’s where her house is now.”

“Oh.” I winced. “Right… about that. Let’s take Coconut Grove out of the equation.”

She turned back to me, folding her arms on the desk. “She’s not a fan?”

“She’s actually living in Miami Beach, in an apartment right now. Specifically because she wanted to get away.”

She whistled low. “I’ll cross it off. Well, don’t we look the fools now for having her cross over from Miami Beach specifically to take a yacht back over there?”

“Hey, it was a surprise to me too. I think she stays there to keep quiet. Er—” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Well, you know. She probably attracts the wrong kind of attention sometimes. So keep it between us.”

“Entendido. Ruth, you heard that?”

Ruth put her hands up. “Not a word.”

“Good. That’s what we like to hear. Let’s try the one in South Beach next, if you want to get in touch with Khalid.”

“Will do. Was that the request you wanted to talk about?”

“Not exactly.” She leaned in closer, studying me. “There’s a conference I want you to attend.”

“Er. Now?”

“No, we’re in the office right now.”

“Ha, ha. I mean,” I said, shifting up taller in my seat, “with the way things are here now—you want me attending a conference?”

“As a speaker.”

“You… could have led with that.”

She smiled. “It’s not for the pay, admittedly. It’s a bit paltry for what it is. But it’ll be good for our reputation.”

“Well, all right… you know best, Mother Goose.”

Ruth pursed her lips. “London’s a genius, but you don’t think securing Cameron Mercier is a higher priority?”

I waved her off. “I can walk and chew gum, Ruth.”

“I know you can.”

María stood up. “Truth be told? No matter how confident I am about Cameron, I want London to have something to fall back on if it doesn’t work. And us, too. I was hoping you could help her out while she’s juggling both of them.”

Ruth still gave her a skeptical look as we left the room, a few minutes of discussing the logistics later, and then staring after María walking down the hallway ahead of us. I put a hand on her shoulder.

“Relax, Ruth. María knows what she’s doing.”

“She sure as hell does…” She shook her head, dropping her voice. “Just remember what I said, okay? Jessica Schafer. Talk to her.”

I smiled politely. “Thank you.”

“I know how you operate. No just thank you and putting it aside. I mean it. Talk to her.”

“I will,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if I would. I’d find a way to make it technically true. “Well, I guess I’m off to research a conference.”

“Right… watch yourself.”

“Definitely. I don’t need Miguel stirring up trouble while I’m presenting.”

She shook her head, sighing, but she didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t read what was eating her, but I didn’t like it.

I didn’t need to, though. Ruth had her own business, and I had mine. And if that meant Ruth was going to find work elsewhere while I got Queen Pearl back on track—well, so be it.

∞∞∞

I took the elevator up to my floor today, which was a risky move I typically avoided. Not for me—the elevator never caused me problems. But the person getting in next to me dropped his phone on the ground just outside the elevator, slipping out of his bag, and he didn’t notice until the second before the doors shut. I politely pretended not to see anything as he muttered a string of curses, mashing the 1 button as if pressing it thirty times in a row would make the elevator go back down. Knowing my little black cloud, someone was going to nick the thing before he got back there. I probably owed him an apology.

But it turned out my bad luck was extending to me today, because I got out on my floor and turned to where Miguel Sanchez was standing there, at my goddamn front door, and I stopped with my blood running cold.

He was wearing that look of mock concern he wore all the time around me, the fake emotions he would put on to look right for María, and I was boiling. I wanted to push him down the stairs. Of course he knew where I lived—he’d been involved in kicking me out—but to just show up brazenly like this?

He locked eyes with me, and I sucked in a breath. Keep it cool. Exploding at someone never got results. I had to insinuate myself into the right situation to do something about him. Had to play my cards carefully, play them right. I furrowed my brow, approaching him slowly.

“Miguel?” I said. “What are you doing—how do you know where I live…?”

“Hi there, London,” he said. “I know it’s weird, me showing up at your doorstep, but I have something you need to hear about. Privately.”

I folded my arms. “I have a cat. He’ll hiss at you.”

“I’ll be okay getting hissed at.”

I wanted to turn him away here and now, tell him to get the hell out of here, but that wasn’t going to do anything but antagonize him. I sighed, hard, pushing past him towards the door. “Keep it quick, okay? And forget where I live. It’s messed up.”

He followed me into the apartment, and lo and behold, he spotted the notice letter on my kitchen counter from Leon Realty. Earl stood up from the windowsill, looking with his fur bristling at Miguel. For once, the cat had good sense.

“So, you already got the notice,” he said. I frowned, playing dumb, picking up the letter.

“This? I saw. It’s ridiculous. But why do you know about—”

“I’m a consultant to their group. I saw your name on a list of people they were trying to clear out.”

Oh, so he was playing this like he was the good guy. Like he’d seen I was in trouble and came in to rescue me. Was that the play all along? Why he went with a predatory landlord’s firm and turned them towards me? I folded my arms.

“ Clear out? For what? What in the world have you been scheming? And are you even allowed to do that behind María’s back?”

“They want to renovate this whole complex. And… they need everyone out for it.”

“And you decided to help me? By going through the records to pull up my address—which I am pretty positive you’re not legally allowed to do—and showing up here to tell me, when you could have just messaged me?” I threw my hands up. “This is the epitome of this meeting could have been an email. ”

“I couldn’t afford having this be on any servers, or anyone overhearing… I could get in trouble for contacting you about this.”

“Well. My savior.” I sighed, dropping my arms by my sides. “Okay, Miguel. Spit it out. What’s your play here? What do you want?”

“Do you have a place lined up you’re moving to? Leon has a fund dedicated to keeping people in safe residence in the event of—well, things like this. If you want, I can give you help with applying for it, and they’ll give you a short-term residence at a reduced rate or even free. They won’t make you jump through hoops, just…” He shrugged. “They don’t want people to know about it, and they definitely don’t want me telling my friends about it. But Queen Pearl is going to be in trouble if something happens to you.”

“Hence the clandestine meeting at my apartment. This would have been infinitely less weird if you’d showed up at my office to ask to discuss something outside the office.”

He scowled. “I’m trying to help you. Yes, I could have done it better, but don’t treat me like I’m here to start a fight.”

He might as well have been. But I wasn’t losing my temper. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d lost my temper, and I attributed half the reason I’d done well in sales to that. This was no different. Selling him on getting the hell out of my life.

This short-term stay was obviously his end goal here—why he was getting me kicked out of here to begin with. I didn’t want to find out what would be waiting for me there.

But I didn’t want him ramping up. Better to have him think he was winning. So I sighed, hanging my head, and I said, “Okay, okay. Well, this is weird as hell, but I guess thanks for the help. Sure. I’ll apply for this short-term residence thing. God knows I’m going to need it if I’m getting kicked out of here basically tomorrow.”

“Good. Good, all right then. Here,” he said, and he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, handing it over. “All the directions for applying. Let me know if there are any problems. I can lean on people in systems to get it pushed through.”

“All righty then…” I took the piece of paper like I might have taken a dead mouse Earl was offering. “Will do. I owe you one, Miguel.”

He gave me his wicked little smile. “You can always tell me more about that client you’re working exclusively on now, if you want to pay me back.”

“Buzz off. Ask María. We both know she dotes on you.”

“On me? You’re her favorite, and everyone in the agency knows that. But don’t get me started.” He turned away, shaking his head. “Fine. I’m going. Ahí luego.”

“Ahí fucking luego,” I muttered as he walked out of the apartment. Earl sprawled out between my legs the second he was gone, yowling low, and I turned and chucked the paper in the trash can, not even bothering to unfold it.

Miguel could eat a dick.