your fucking medicine. Too bad you never made it as a rock star; your alcoholism would have worked for your public image.â
Wade took a sip.
Georgiaâs eyes bugged. âYouâre actually
having
that? Itâs not even eight in the morning.â
Wade took a larger sip â more like a gulp.
âThink about it, though.â Georgiaâs tone softened into something sad. âWe close the bar, then itâs just you and me, living like we used to. We can move back to the city, wander into Stanley Park and have weekends like normal people.â
âMaybe have some kids.â
âIâm too old to have children.â Georgia shivered like a ghost had just passed through her.
âYouâre only thirty-six. You want to condemn us to a childless old age?â Wade said, feeling bleaker than ever. He was thirty-eight, which at the moment felt ancient.
âJesus, Wade, do you have to be so melodramatic when life doesnât do what you want it to?â
âIâm just trying to find something to make my life worth living.â Because Sacha was gone, and Wade wasnât sure anything was left.
âNow you have nothing to live for.â Georgia grabbed a towel and began fiercely drying the juicer parts from the dish rack.
Shit. Wade had to get her onside, to agree to the partnership with Richie. âWe used to have so much fun together. Remember Morocco?â
Georgia smiled, but it was short-lived. âWe were in our twenties. We didnât know what stress was.â
âIâm taking Richieâs offer. Itâs a fair price, and heâll help pump young blood into the place.â
âNo.â
Wade glared at Georgia. Their eyes locked in what felt to Wade like hate.
Georgia shook her head firmly. âI know I said I wouldnât exercise my signing authority. But this is a hard no. You get partners like that, youâre only asking to get raped. I love you too much to see that happen.â
âThatâs not love, Georgia. Thatâs control.â
âMy name is on that lease, and I have a professional reputation to maintain. I canât have my name dragged through the mud.â
âDonât you get it? The landlords are taking back the bar if I donât give them forty-five grand in two weeks. Partnering with Richie solves that â
plus
it gives the place a cash infusion to really get it pumping.â
âIâm fine with closing the bar. Iâm not fine being in bed with criminals.â
SIX
RICHIE
Richie Lebar tapped his fur-lined boot against the police station floor. He saw a tiny tear on the suede at his toe, which annoyed him. He didnât like leaving his boots in Janaâs foyer â she just threw her stuff everywhere, no regard for anything of hers or anyone elseâs.
Inspector Norris was taking forever to read the suicide note. His thin lips pushed in and out from his face like a goldfish in a tank, slow and stupid. Finally, the little inspector looked up. âThank you for this. Youâre free to leave.â
âI promised Jana Iâd bring the note back.â As Richie held out his hand, he wondered if maybe he should lose a few of his gold rings. Less bling might make people take him more seriously as a businessman when he became Wadeâs partner in the bar. On the other hand, nothing said confidence like personal style. Richie had to make sure he stayed true to his real self, even while he tweaked his image to fit into the business world.
Norris smoothed the note on the desk in front of him. âJanaâs going to have to find another memento to clutch in her sleep. This is evidence.â
Richie shook his head. For a cop on the criminalsâ payroll, Norris didnât seem to understand who was in charge. But the little cop had real control issues â probably why he became a cop â so Richie had to tread lightly, not undermine Norris in an obvious