Page 89 of Revenge Is a Dish Best Served… Wearing Heels?

I let out a dry laugh. "Jesus. All this over a few old brownstones and a corner bodega with overpriced coffee and sandwiches?"

He threw up his hands. "What can I say? People romanticize that shit."

Turning my chair a bit, I stared out at the city. "My dad's not going to be happy about this."

"No. He's definitely not."

A beat of silence passed while I contemplated his reaction, the usual disappointment, the tight-lipped glare he'd give me if I had to tell him this entire project had fallen apart.

It wasn't over yet, however. This could still work out in our favor. We just didn't usually have anyone fighting us back this hard.

Sitting up straighter, I inhaled deeply then asked, "So what does legal say?"

"There's talk of hitting back. Hard."

My attention snapped back to him. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Intimidation, litigation. We dig up dirt, we find code violations, overdue taxes, lease technicalities. Basically, we make life hell for these people until they fold."

My stomach turned, remembering that conversation I'd heard in that dive while eating dinner with Archie, but I kept my face neutral. "Where are they on everything?"

"They're drafting up a proposal for all their countermeasures."

I nodded. "Okay. Have them put it all together. Every option. I want to see the full picture before we press play on going nuclear."

The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

"Got it," he said. "I'll let them know to get that to you ASAP."

"I appreciate that."

He stood, looking like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself and made a move for the door, probably heading straight for legal.

Turning back to my computer, I stared at the screen again, shaking my head at the whole entire mess.

This fucking neighborhood. This fucking job.

All it did was give me a blinding headache.And an awful churning feeling in my gut.

I couldn't stop picturing what this project would eventually look like. And for once, it wasn't about the luxury, the condos, the progress.

What I couldn't get out of my head?

The human collateral.

Shit. When had I started to care about that?

Tomás was back at my open door, peering in, his eyes weirdly intense. "Spoke to legal. They'll have it ready for you early next week."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Sure. Oh, and Hawthorne?"

"Yeah?"

"What's the latest with your mystery woman?"

I felt my cheeks redden. Was I fucking blushing?