Chapter Twenty-Four – Klempner
What the f**k am I supposed to do about the silly little b***h?
Haswell watches Mitch’s performance in silence, his lips quirking.
I’m not getting any support from James either. He sits, chin propped in the crook of thumb and forefinger, the palm covering his mouth. Jenny glances up from where she’s happily looting my bank account, her eyes green as a cat’s. She awards me the smile of an angel, then returns her attention to her purchase.
Ah… What the Hell…
Mitch is right. The girl’s asking for trouble, dawdling around like that. She might as well wave a placard. Rollover available. Apply here.
The figure on the bench looks familiar. His face is angled away from me, but the body language says it all.
Feeding time in the shark tank…
I knock back my beer
