Chapter 33
He didn’t entirely remember getting back to his apartment after the party—everything was fuzzy with exhaustion and vodka and Scooter. He vaguely remembered an arm around his waist, half-holding him up as they’d stumbled along the walkway from Scooter’s door to his. Had Trick gotten out then? Had he been out all night? Shit, shit, shit
Andy grabbed a shirt at random and reached for the door, freezing as he realized he hadn’t locked the door or set the chain the night before. His heart started pounding, and he felt like he might throw up. He’d been completely unprotected all night, sleeping and—
Stop it, he told himself firmly. Nothing happened. You’re fine. You have to find Trick
Right. Trick. Who had probably gotten out at—what, two in the morning?—and had therefore been running along the beach for…Andy checked the clock, and another jolt of panic slashed through him. He was hourslate, the lunch rush was probably already done. Why hadn’t anyone woken him?
He yanked open the door and half-vaulted down the stairs to the ground level. He could barely think, his brain ping-ponging between the dog and his job and the damn chain. He jerked open the kitchen door and piled through, already chanting, “Sorry, I’m sorry, oh God, I can’t believe—”
Jason jerked around to face him, and oh Christ, Andy didn’t think he’d ever seen Jason so mad, not even those first couple of days when Jason had been sure that Andy was some kind of con artist or serial killer or something. Andy stumbled to a halt, and took a step back to make sure he was well out of reach of those tree-trunk arms. “Sorry?” he tried again, not even caring at the way his voice spiraled up into a squeak.
Kat was standing at the door between the floor and the kitchen, peering out the porthole style windows. “I could go refill drinks?” She glanced around. “Oh! Good morning, Andy! Enjoy your sleep-in?”
Jason muttered darkly and stalked over to the door. “Can’t believe the nerve. That son-of-a-bitch, why doesn’t he just leave it alone?” He stared out over Kat’s shoulder.
It…wasn’t Andy they were mad at. Andy sagged in relief. He was okay. A breath later, the rest of his brain spun back up. He edged into the kitchen, but couldn’t see past Kat and Jason to figure out what they were glaring at. “What, uh. What’s going on? Anyone seen Trick?”
The dog trotted into the kitchen from Scooter’s office at the sound of his name, tail going a mile a minute. Andy went limp with relief again, but Jason swore, pointing at the dog. “No dogs allowed in the kitchen! Go lay down, boy. Go on. No, you can kiss Andy later. Go lay down.”
Kat mouthed something, a feverish sort of light coming to her face. She gave Andy her biggest smile. “Andy should go! Oh, come here, you.” She pressed her lips together and then started arranging Andy’s hair, pulling the too-long tangles into some semblance of order. She straightened out his tee, brushing the wrinkles from it. “You are wearing the shirt I gave you, how delightful! Somebody loves you,” she teased, tugging his jeans down a little to show off his hip bones, like he was going clubbing and not to collect dirty dishes. “Perfect, just perfect.” She even licked her thumb and wiped something off his jaw.
Andy knew better than to try to stop her, but he gave Jason a plaintive look. “What the hell is going on?”
“SenatorSharpe is here.” Jason’s sarcasm was highly polished and sharp on most days, but Andy had never quite heard that tone before, like Jason was announcing the arrival of a child molester and the stomach virus at the same time.
“I take it we don’t like Senator Shar—Ow, Kat, that hurts!” He didn’t know what was on his face, but it couldn’t be worse than her rubbing a hole in his skin.
“No, wedon’tlike him,” Jason said. “At least, Kat and I don’t. Scooterlikes him all too well. He’s had Scooter on a short leash for ten years. Bastard. Always bringing his new boy toys in to show them off. It’s disgusting.”
Andy could be kind of slow about people sometimes, but this was math that was all too awfully clear. Scooter was younger than Kat by a year or so, which meant the Senator had snared Scooter’s attention when he’d been a teen, probably around the same age Andy had been when Nick had shown up. And “boy toys” didn’t need much interpretation, either. Andy took a breath, let it out slow. “Right. First class asshole, all the way, then.” He scowled at Kat. “And you’re dolling me up because?”
“You need to go back him up. Distract him. Jason can’t do it,” Kat said. “Scooter threatened to fire him, the one year Jason said something to Sharpe. And last year I broke a stack of dishes to get Scooter’s attention, but that won’t go over a second time.”
“You dumped a glass of tea on the boy a few years back,” Jason recalled with a grim smile.