Page 61 of Broken Brothers

“Smart,” she said. She waved down the first waiter who passed by us; I didn’t even know if he was the one who had served her originally. “Gin and soda, please, on the rocks.”

I had preferred it straight, but who was I to argue? Claire was the client; if Claire wanted to change my order and make me do a shot of gin, I would have done it. I would have done just about anything except what I had actually done with Layla.

Layla. Remember when you were here with her? In a place like that? Good times, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice if things could go back to that without the ugly betrayal…

Surprised, I shook my head.

“Are you OK?” Claire said.

“Sorry, long week,” I said, which was actually true.

“If you need more than one, we can arrange that,” Claire said, but just at the draw of a breath, she had moved on. “Now, this deal. Part of why I took this was because I know Morgan well and he’s a great guy. I know you kind of well. I know you got a deal done at Burnson Investments before you got screwed by the big man.”

You know that?

“Morgan told me,” she said, which brought me surprising relief. Morgan would not have told her the dirty story. He would have kept me looking as good as I could have in that context. “I know you have impressive negotiation skills, and I know you’re not some crusty old white guy who’s going to take advantage of me. I want to know, Chance, if you’re going to be more involved than just giving us a check and then moving on.”

I gulped. So it was, the moment of truth.

Well, it was one of many moments. I knew what Edwin would say. He would say that he’d be happy to help however he could… without any intention of actually following through on that promise. A promise from Edwin Hunt that didn’t involvemoney was as good as a promise made with a rat—the rat didn’t understand promises, and neither did Mr. Hunt.

But put money on the line, and Edwin Hunt could suddenly get the President of the United States on the line with a homeless beggar.

So who was I going to be? The greedy money chaser, or the diligent businessman?

The choice was easy.

“Truth be told, Claire, we had looked at this as an investment of funds,” I said, noticing with a great deal of relief that Claire did not look betrayed by this statement. “I don’t mind providing suggestions to you now and then and pointing out ways you can help, but Morgan and I want to build a holdings company, not a consulting company or something that winds up on multiple boards.”

“No, I understand,” Claire said, and she looked like she really did.

I was not ready, however, for her to go into the thinking tank for what felt like a full minute. I sipped on my freshly placed gin and tonic, wishing strongly that I had requested it straight. It just tasted too cold, too much like ice for me to enjoy it.

“You seem like the kind of guy who could help out,” Claire said. “If I do message you from time to time, you are able to help, right?”

“Of course,” I said with a shrug. “I’m Chance Hunt, not an asshole.”

Claire snorted, the closest thing I had seen to her laughing. I swore I even saw a slight smile forming, though that was probably my imagination trying to get something out of the encounter.

“That’s funny,” she said. “I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.”

As she got off her seat and moved past me, she did something unmistakable, something subtle but noticeable to me, something small in the moment but something that might have had implications down the line.

She put her hand on my shoulder.

It was a soft touch, and a brief one. It could have easily been excused as her having to put her hand on me to get past me, an idea supported by the fact that I had to scoot in for her to get by.

But then, why didn’t she go in the other direction?

I suspected it was nothing. I tried not to overthink it. She needed to get by and was probably used to using physical touch in the context of getting what she wanted.

But…

After Layla Taylor, I couldn’t help myself. I looked into everything when it came to business dealings with women. Especially young women whom I had a shot at. I had to nip this one in the bud.

How, though? How awkward would it be if I gave her the spiel about not having anything other than a professional relationship? That would cause more damage than good if Claire’s touch had been innocuous.

What if I said nothing? Would it encourage her to escalate it, or would it just be a case of nothing to it?