He was silent for a long beat. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “You okay now, though? Financially?”
“I’m okay. I’msolid, even, which is something I’m not really used to being. This house is paid for, so I don’t have a mortgage. Just taxes — which are admittedly a bitch, but I manage. Same goes for the store. I have some overhead in terms of inventory, plus I have to pay Hetti a big enough salary to put up with me… But business has been good. More than good, actually. The other day, I put up a listing for a part-timer on a few websites. It wouldn’t hurt to have a backup barista, someone to cover when I get tied up or Hetti needs time off.”
“That’s great, baby.”
The pride in his voice made my throat feel tight. “Thanks.”
“Promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Before you hire anyone, you give me their name. First and last. Let me check them out.” A crease furrowed between his brows. “Can’t have just anyone lurking around. Not planning a repeat of the Zelda situation. You get me?”
“I get you,” I whispered around the sudden lump of emotion blocking my airway. Since my aunt died, no one had ever tried to take care of me. No one had been there to watch my back, spotted me when I was liable to stumble. It was a good feeling.
Scratch that, it was a freakinggreatfeeling.
“I suppose I should start looking for a new psychic, too.” I shrugged, digging through the lo mein carton for a shrimp. “Seeing as Madame Zelda has yet to reappear. I’m losing potential business every day she’s gone.”
Graham was silent.
“Has there been any sign of her? I’ve been so focused on Eliza’s murder, I forgot to ask you what’s going on with the O'Banions these days.”
He blew out a long breath, set down his chopsticks again, and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
My brows shot up as unease rippled through me. “What?”
“I’ve been wondering when you were going to ask me about this shit. Was hoping for a few more days’ reprieve.”
“Why?” I asked, instantly suspicious. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing you need to know about.”
“Graham!”
“You’ve got enough on your mind, I don’t want to pile on any more.”
“You know where she is, don’t you?”
His brows furrowed deeper and he repeated, “Fuck.”
“You have to tell me.”
“Technically, I don’t. You aren’t the client. Your involvement in this is nonexistent, in my opinion.”
“Well, inmyopinion, you hiding information from me makes you a total jerk!”
“Oh no, how will I live with myself, knowing you think I’m a jerk?” he drawled, sarcasm thick. “News flash, babe, you’ve thought I was a jerk for years. Doesn’t bother me. Sure as shit doesn’t mean I’m letting you get involved in Zelda’s clusterfuck.”
My temper was gaining steam. “I’m already involved!”
“And you’re not gettingmoreinvolved.”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll be forced to go around you and find out myself. I’ll call Flo, we’ll get in the Thunderbird… Thelma and Louise, the sequel.”
He shook his head back and forth, looking like he wanted to shake some sense into me. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know what?”
“Sure. Whatever.” My smile was saccharine sweet. “Spill the beans, Graves. Where’s Zelda hiding?”