Chapter 15
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Minka sits close beside me, her thigh pressed to my thigh, her shoulder almost completely tucked under mine, her hand wrapped around my hand.
Not because she has a particular penchant for public displays of affection. But because she’s already all peopled out, and I’ve been gone all damn day.
“So then she just threw me off the building, Daddy.” Jen slaps the table and sends cutlery clattering. “She was cold and calculated and entirely too smiley about it. Pretty sure that’s a marker of psychopathy.”
“Sociopathy, dear.” Justin sits back in his chair, his posture shot to shit, his stomach a little full, and his smile entirely too fucking drunken-looking.
Except he’s been nursing the same drink the whole hour we’ve been sitting, and I feel like drunk, on him, is just happiness because of his overflowing table.
“Psychopaths premeditate. They’re meticulous and cunning and often, genetically predisposed. ”
“Yes, well—”
“Sociopaths, on the other hand, are typically impulsive in their crimes. Doctor Mayet couldn’t possibly have predicted you would foolishly climb onto a building in the middle of the night in some other town, honey. Her pushing you off was, evidently, of a spontaneous nature.”
“Take the district attorney out of the courtroom,” Soph snickers. “But he’s still gonna argue like a lawyer. Hypothetically, sir, could we discuss case law for a moment?”
Justin’s lips twitch playfully, his chin coming down in acknowledgment. “Shoot.”
“So, say I know someone who committed a crime…”
Literally everyone’s eyes swing to hers.
Which crime, Soph? The crimes you’ve committed today? This week? Last week… With my fucking wife?
“This person really wants to gift someone something, but that someone is refusing to accept the gift. Is it a crime to force it on them, even if they don’t want it?”
“What’s the gift?” Fletch asks. “A hundred bucks? A kid? A case of the clap?”
I choke out a muffled laugh and drape my arm over Minka’s shoulder. Turning just my face, I press a kiss to her temple and feel her pulse thud-thud-thudding against my lips.
Lawrence gives Soph’s question genuine consideration. “Well… gifting someone money they weren’t expecting isn’t a crime. Gifting them an STD they weren’t expecting is. So I suppose, as always, the details matter here.”
“What if it was, say…” She risks a glance across to me. Or, well, Minka. “Let’s hypothesize this gift is food. A consumable of some sort.” Her lips split into a wide grin. “Cake.”
“Are you walking up and offering them this cake, and when they say no, you set it on the table and walk away? Or are you offering them this cake, they say no, so you stuff it down their throat? The second is a crime.”
“For God’s sake.” Minka furiously snarls. “Is the cake a certain medication, Sophia?”
“Oh! Yeah!” Jen bounces excitedly in her seat. “Good question. Can we stuff the cake down the recipient’s throat, Daddy?”
“No.”
“But—”
“That would be assault,” he chuckles. “And if we’re not talking about cake at all, but medication, then that’s even worse.”
“Okay, so what if we bake an actual cake and put the meds inside, and the recipient chooses to eat the cake?”
He chuckles under his breath. “Assault.”
“What if we open the soluble cap and tip the compounded mixture into this person’s wineglass. If they’re willingly drinking the wine, and if we’ve already had this conversation, which could imply consent has been requested and received, then—”
Lawrence shakes his head. “Assault.”
“Dammit, Daddy!”
“What if I gift someone a punch in their face?” Minka counters with a sadistic smile.
“Right now, at this table. What if I even pre-warn everyone sitting here that the recipient will be a female Lawrence, thus, my intentions have been communicated and consent has been received, is that still assault?”
“Well, there are two female Lawrences at this table tonight.” Justin lifts Janine’s hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Please be specific.”
“Just take the damn M&M’s!” Jen explodes. “Jesus, Mayet. I thought we were a team!? I thought we were a family.”
“I have literally never said that.” Minka picks up her un-doctored wine and takes a small, smiling sip. “You might have me confused with someone else.”
“You will literally not die. In fact, you’ll thank me for it once it’s done, because you’ll get a cute little skip in your step. It’ll be like an extra shot of coffee in the morning, but without the calories, and you won’t have to worry about infusing anymore.”
“Wait—” Lawrence swings his eyes our way. “You’re the trial recipient giving my daughter a hard time?”
Minka barks out a laugh. “A hard time? I’m being harassed!
I made it through all of my teen years and my early twenties with less peer pressure to take drugs than I’m getting this week.
Jesus. The answer is no, Jennifer. I will not be your lab rat.
In fact, I won’t be the lab rat for that other trial stuff on the market either, and they have actual marketing materials and FDA approval. ”
“I feel conflicted.” Less smiley now, Justin watches the daughter he created biologically, and the non-biological daughter he kinda wishes would love him in return, punt words back and forth like a ball on a tennis court.
“My baby’s life’s work, and…” He looks to Minka.
“Doctor Mayet’s right to autonomy and medical privacy. ”
“You make it sound like her request is reasonable,” Minka growls. “I’ve seen this woman jump off buildings, cry about stitches, and marry a…” She points at Corey. “Him!”
“Hey.” He lays his hand on his chest. “What did I do? Your shots are hitting innocent bystanders right now, Chief.”
“You’re complicit!” She sets her wine down with a snap and folds one leg over the other. “Talk about someone else. In fact, Mayor Lawrence.” She meets his eyes and fakes a grin. “Let’s discuss theft.”
“Theft?” He glances from person to person. “Who stole?”
“You.” She points an accusing finger straight across the table to a stunned, side-by-side Fletch and Fifi.
“Ms. Lewis was mine. She was grudgingly happy about her place in this world, underpaid, overworked, ridiculously stressed, and secretly amused by my general messiness. But then you came along and started throwing words like ‘better working conditions’ and ‘higher pay’ around. You stole from me, and now my building runs at a deficit because of it.”
Fifi firms her lips. “You have Callen, Chief. I left you in good hands.”
“I wouldn’t know! I almost never talk to her.” Minka releases a piggish grunt. “Come back, and I’ll double whatever he’s paying you.”
Lawrence’s smirks. “You can’t afford her.”
“Come back, and I’ll pay you one dollar an hour more than I was paying you before.”
Fifi snickers. “Pass. I prefer my current working conditions.”
“You’re being impossible!”
“It might blow your mind to hear this, Chief, but my boss never shouts at me. And since we’re comparing, he also honors standard working hours, and never says he’ll take the call waiting for him, but actually forgets.”
“It was one time! Kirk’s DB had an actual live bird stuck in his throat, beak side pointing out. I was distracted!”
“Wait.” Lawrence’s brows pinch tight. “Seriously? How is that possible?”
“Exactly! That’s a distracting thing to hear about, so it makes sense I forgot to take the call. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It felt like the end of the world! It was Mayor Lawrence calling to discuss me. We both wanted to do the right thing by you before I made the move, but you let a tiny little bird get in the way.”
“The bird was that time?” Lawrence questions. “Geez. I thought she was just being her normal charming self.”
“This is why I don’t come to these things!” Minka slumps against her chair. “Everyone’s always piling on, like my attention to the bird thing was shameful.”
“Don’t lie,” Fifi counters. “You don’t come to these things because you’re antisocial and rude.
Then you pick a fight with the easiest target, wait for them to bite back, then you claim their retaliation is the reason for your antisocial tendencies.
It’s a bit like the snake eating itself metaphor, except we’re all standing on the outside and laughing at you. ”
“Sera!” Fletch guffaws. “Damn, woman. Are you trying to start some shit?”
“I would never.” She stares straight across at us, swirling her wine and grinning the way evil warlords do. “My respect and adoration for the esteemed Chief Mayet remain as it always has. But this was fun. I needed this.”
“I want another seventy thousand dollars in my annual budget.” Minka shoots a filthy glare toward Lawrence. “I just got us an entire six-figure tech upgrade. For free. I suggest you keep that in mind as you approve my current request.”
“An extra seventy thousand?” His eyes dance with mirth. “That’s not a small amount, Chief. You looking to beef up your salary all because you’re in a bad mood?”
“No. I need another tox lab tech, and that’s probably how much one of those costs. However, you should consider this my formal announcement: every time you harangue me into a ‘let’s all pick on Minka’ dinner, I intend to hit you where it hurts.”
“The pocket, Chief?”
“Precisely.”
“And you understand I’m not directly in charge of city budgets, right? My job is much more—”
“Mmhm. Cool story. But you oversee the budgeting department and, ultimately, have the final say on everything in this city.” She brings her eyes back to Fifi.
“I bet you know who to contact for these things, Ms. Lewis. If I squint really hard and annoy you enough, I could almost convince myself you’re still working for me. ”
It’s nearly eleven o’clock before we peel ourselves away from the mayor’s dining table and his guests scatter in different directions.
Fletch and Mia climb into a car and head down the hill.
Fifi climbs into another and goes, too. Sophia, Jay, and their ballerina babies head out, while Jen and Corey make their way upstairs.