Page 112 of The Deals We Make

“You got an invitation to speak at a Women’s Economic Forum.” She follows it with a deafening squeal, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Oh my God. For real?”

“Yes. They want you as their Friday lunch keynote speaker. I’m assuming it’s a yes.”

It’s a huge honor. “Yes. Definitely. Is my calendar free?”

Becca rolls her eyes. “Cal, you’re free. This is the kind of thing you clear your calendar for. They said they were inspired by theForbesarticle. Perfect timing that you appeared in an article one of them decided to read.”

A feeling of déjà vu washes over me. Timing. TheForbesarticle.

“Are you okay, Cal?” Becca asked.

“When did theForbesarticle come out?”

When she rattles off the month and day, it hits me. The first text message came three days after. Three days after I’d been asked how I felt about Walt Timberlake taking credit for my business idea. I’d set the record straight. Not about the indecent proposition he made, but the rest.

That there was a chance conversation at a public event that lasted less than ten minutes. And that no useful advice or guidance was given.

“That’s it. Of course it is. Walt Timberlake. I need to call Orson. I have to go. I’ll?—”

My phone cuts out. I try to turn it on, but the battery must be dead. With a sigh, I jog up the stairs to get my charger.

And all I can sense is the smell of something sickly sweet and the rough texture of a cloth pressed over my face before I crumple to the ground.

32

VEX

The brothers are going all out.

It’s gonna be the kind of party that can get a guy into trouble. Club girls are beginning to trickle in, but it’s funny how they have dwindled in number now that all the major patches have old ladies. They’ve got no choice but to focus on old-timers who are set in their ways, and the prospects.

Doesn’t stop them from trying, occasionally.

A new girl, Veronica, or Ronnie, as some of the prospects call her, tried to touch up Bates earlier. You’d think the woman was carrying some kind of deadly contagious disease given the speed with which Bates veered out of her reach.

And it’s another reason I feel like this club is the only club I’ll find a home in. I fully intend to be a one-woman man, which isn’t very rock ’n’ roll by motorcycle club standards. But it appears the rest of the leaders of the club feel the same way.

Plus, their old ladies would end each of them in their own way if they cheated. Cat would probably kill Niro and bury him six feet under while playing the grieving widow. And, fuck, who am I kidding? Niro would kill any of the brothers if their old ladies gave him enough reason.

Not sure what Ari would do. Probably throw one of those jigsaw puzzles Halo is always buying her at him, which would probably break his heart more than being stabbed.

Switch taps me on the shoulder. “You know where your woman is?”

I frown. “Should be home. Why?”

“Cat and Sophia are outside ringing the doorbell, but no one is answering.”

“One second.” I dial her number but get no answer. “Maybe she’s in the shower?”

“The girls already thought that. They sat in the truck for a while to kill time before trying again. Your truck is in the driveway.”

I gave Calista the keys because she said she needed to go out and buy food for the girls coming over.

Panic floods me.

It takes a second to regain any kind of composure to respond.