Once they were gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number.
He picked up on the first ring, the faint sound of music bleeding into his voice.
“Meet me outside. Left side. By the hedges,” I said. My tone left no room for discussion.
The night air was cool, the manicured garden casting deep shadows under the white glow of floodlights. Laughter and music pulsed faintly from inside the restaurant, muffled by walls and distance.
A few minutes later, the prick emerged from the venue. The lights from the restaurant spilled over him in a pale wash, turning his tux into a ghost’s uniform. He glanced over his shoulder twice before reaching me, like a man who was afraid that someone might follow him.
“Sorry, I had to—” He began, but I cut him off.
“Give me the phone.” I demanded.
His
