Zen and Xander Undone Read Online Free PDF Page B

me to catch up.
    It doesn’t take me that long. “You want to try to pry something out of Mr. Blackstone?”
    She shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll distract him while you pretend to go to the bathroom and get Mom’s file.”
    â€œOh, that’s a great idea. I’m going to steal from a lawyer.”
    â€œLike he’d press charges.”
    â€œHe’s a
lawyer.
So he
might.
”
    â€œNo one’s going to send a motherless orphan to jail. You’ll be fine.”
    â€œI wouldn’t even know where to look.”
    â€œThe files are in the back, just outside the bathroom.”
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    â€œ
Hello?
Eidetic memory?” She taps at her temple. Everything Xander sees, hears, smells, touches,
everything,
she remembers, completely. I hate that about her.
    â€œYou’re not the only smart one, you know,” I tell her angrily. “My PSAT Verbal was—”
    â€œSeven ninety. Yes, I know. But your math was five forty. So suck it, Vogel. Suck. It.”
    â€œYou just lost your partner in crime,” I tell her.
    â€œOkay. I’ll drop you off and do it myself.” She bats at the turning signal, pretending that she’s going to take me home, but I call her bluff. She reaches Colchester Road, our last chance to get home without backtracking, and looks at me out of the corner of her eye. I am silent, waiting. She huffs and turns the signal off, heading straight downtown. “It’s a two-woman job.”
    â€œWhy don’t you get one of your derelict
lovers
to do it for you.”
    â€œFine. Wait in the car,” she says, knowing full well I won’t.
    Mr. Blackstone’s office is in a pathetic-looking strip mall thing. Most of the other offices there are empty. His car is parked at an odd angle in front of the building. For a lawyer, he drives a heap. It’s an ancient sedan, and tendrils of rust run along the seams of the body like they’re trying to find a way in. Xander parks next to his car, and we get out.
    The office is dark except for a single fluorescent light toward the back. Xander leans into the door, cupping her hand over her eyes, and knocks on the glass. The parking lot is very quiet, though there are a couple boys taking turns riding a bike that’s too small for them. “He doesn’t want to be bothered, Xander,” I tell her.
    â€œHe will when he sees who’s bothering him.” She wiggles her eyebrows lasciviously.
    â€œGross, Xander. The man’s fifty at least.”
    â€œHa!” she yells. “Here he comes!”
    From the back I see Mr. Blackstone’s long-legged frame. He’s a very tall man, and he has such a large paunch that he seems to lean back to counterbalance it. He’s got overgrown gray hair, and a scruff of whiskers on his face as though he hasn’t shaved for a few days. “Vogels!” he exclaims when he sees us.
    â€œWe saw your car,” Xander says. She twists a lock of her hair, and grinds her toe into the sidewalk in a way that swivels her hips. He smiles at her with a strange mixture of lust and fatherly affection. Gross.
    â€œCome on in! I was just having a sandwich.” He leads us down the hallway to his office, which is mostly bare except for an ancient-looking oak desk and an oversize padded leather chair.
    â€œI can’t resist Sammy’s Sunday Special,” he says apologetically as he gestures to the absolutely enormous sandwich splayed on a paper wrapper on his desk.
    â€œSmells good!” Xander says appreciatively.
    â€œWant a bite?” he offers. “It’s their classic Italian.”
    She accepts the half sandwich he offers her, opens her mouth so wide she reminds me of a python swallowing a goat, and manages to take a huge bite of the sloppy sandwich in a shamelessly provocative way. Only Xander could devour an Italian sub and make it look like she’s having the most sensual