God, he wanted a cigarette. Remy fished around his pocket and plucked one free. He flicked it on in the lift and punched the speakeasy’s code through the first puff of smoke.

  “My very excellent mother just served us nine pizzas.” His code was accepted and the lift whirred to life, pulling him upward to the speakeasy. He consciously tried to smoke it slowly and make it last. Remy was supposed to be cool, confident, and not a man who nervously sucked down an entire pack of cigarettes in an hour.

  “Showtime,” he murmured.

  There was more smoke than usual when Remy exited into the bar. A complimentary cigar from the doorman tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket, and he made his way to the bar. It was a decidedly different scene that the usual blend down here. Well, not that different, he supposed, just richer. The regular business owner was replaced with an industry tycoon. The city councilor with a Federation imperator. Swanky stuff.

  His hands fought a tremor as he brought the gin to his lips. He’d done bigger heists before. Even more dangerous ones. When he’d first been getting into the game, there was a job in the ruins of the old capitol out east. Simple go here, steal this, bring it back type deal. Their client didn’t mention that the object was nuclear launch codes or that the current owners were part of the Patriot’s Remnant. Fanatical devotees to a long-dead country were terrible targets for anything other than a shoot-first job. You couldn’t bargain with true believers or idiots and these were both. A plasma scar on his ass cheek proved that.

  This job was something else entirely but it felt like the stakes were higher. In other jobs, only his reputation would suffer if things didn’t work out or he called it off. He’d only had to call off a single job over the years and managed to finish every other one, no matter the challenges. Walking away here was not an option. Franklin and Josie were counting on him. Stefanie was counting on him. He could smell the cinnamon.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Remy blinked and was back in the smoky basement of the Freeworker. A warm hand rested on the back of his own and he recognized a pretty face with a plunging neckline.

  “Oh, Claire, sorry, I was, uh, just thinking.” Of course, he would run into Claire right off the bat. The only person in the bar who knew his name would be the one to find him. She drank from a low ball glass that turned from purple to orange in sequence and fizzed softly.

  “Must’ve been some thought. I didn’t know you’d be bidding tonight.” Claire’s eyebrows were freshly done and rose appraisingly. Just getting an invite to bid didn’t come cheap and she knew it. Anyone who was bidding surely had some story to tell and storytellers needed someone to tell them to. The truth of Franklin simply hacking his own invite to create a forged second didn’t really fit any narrative he wanted to sell. Remy shrugged.

  “I’m a bit of a collector. Liked ‘em since I was a kid.” The best lies weren’t lies at all. “Are you working tonight?”

  She shook her glass and took another drink. “Not for the Freeworker.” Claire glanced over her shoulder and her perfume washed over Remy through the smoky haze. He was a sucker for a good perfume. “Some men, and a few women, hire me to join them at things like this. They buy me drinks, I smile at their friends.”

  “Oh, I didn’t…” he stopped himself. After the altercation with JD, he hadn’t taken Claire for an escort.

  “Didn’t think I was ‘that kind of girl’?” She put the phrase she had used with JD in quotes.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  This was going about as poorly as he could imagine. He stammered and she touched his hand again.

  “Relax, I’m not ashamed of anything. Should see your face, though. Do you think less of me for it?” Her eyes narrowed a touch, challenging him.

  Remy took another drink to buy a second to think. “I’ve known men and women who do much worse things than casual sex for money. I’m not judging. You got good taste for turning down JD, then, the other night.” Sex was at least good for everyone involved, usually. It was better than his own line of work in many ways. For Remy, only one party was fucked at the end of the day.

  “I swear to God, you’re like a magnet for these girls, Rem?” Josie whispered in his ear and he furiously blocked it out.

  “Sex workers are people same as anyone, and anyone can tell that guy’s an ass. I’d hate to lose a new friend over my side business.” She smiled and patted his hand again. “Actually, my date tonight asked me to come talk with you without me even mentioning anything about knowing you.”

  That itch for a cigarette came back. Who would know him here? JD or Jack wouldn’t come right up to him like this. It couldn’t be a coincidence. He didn’t believe in coincidences anymore.

  “I’m flattered. Your date say what he wanted with me? I don’t think I know anyone here aside from you.”

  “He just said he was an old friend and told me to ask you to come over.”

  Remy had a bad feeling about this.

  “Lead the way, then.”

***

  Bad feelings and ass holes go hand in hand. You usually just end up with a pile of shit. Remy marched dutifully into that pile as he followed Claire back to her client’s table. His stomach sunk. He knew that face.

  “Remy, my friend, it is good to see you again. Our last conversation was cut too short.” The Inspector wore the best suit he’d ever seen with a fresh rose in his lapel. A bulge on his left arm showed where his Vasculator rested. Another woman sat on his left with a plunging neckline to match Claire’s and smoky lashes covering bright green eyes.

  “Well, you know how it goes, Fernando.” Remy fought away the urge to run back to the lifts immediately. No going back.

  The Inspecter smirked, but didn’t say anything. Smoky Lashes frowned in confusion. So he hadn’t given them his real name. Remy bit his tongue. Had he even given Josie his real name? No time to think about that.

  “You’ll have to come by to see what I’ve done with my office. It is, how you say, remodeled since your last visit. A lovely place to bring a lovely lady, is that not so Bianca?” Fernando raised a finger and brushed Smoky Lashes - Bianca, he supposed - along her chin.

  “Mmmm.” She purred.

  “Truly, words cannot do the view justice.” Fernando confirmed. “Are you bidding today, Remy? Or are you waiting to meet with Iroh?” Fernando’s question said it plain. Josie called him Iroh the thief at the Water Lily. Remy smiled to disguise his heart beating like a jackhammer. No going back.

  “Bidding. Iroh’s out of town. Not sure he’ll be back. How about you? Bidding or here for the scenery?” He looked between Bianca and Claire, who had sat on Fernando’s right. The scenery was undeniably good, though expensive to touch. Looking was always free.

  “Oh, that is a shame. I was dearly hoping to match wits with Iroh once more. Well, I won’t keep you from the fun. Say hello to the beautiful Josephine for me, would you?” Fernando dripped knowing condescension. Claire flashed him a confused and apologetic smile. She didn’t know what had happened or what her date said but she could see it plain on Remy’s face. Something had happened and she knew she was part of it. Sweet girl.

  “I’ll be sure to send your regards. Have a good one, Fernando. Claire, Bianca.” He raised his drink to the women and went back to his place at the bar. Remy’s mask fell and he tried to breath deep, which proved difficult in the smoky haze.

  He ordered a new gin and flicked on his cigar with a shaking hand. There was no sense in worrying about the Inspector now. Stick to Franklin’s plan and deal with everything else as it came. Josie murmured something in his ear but his heart beat over it. Franklin’s plan would be better than whatever the Inspector was doing. It had to be.

  “Hey, listen! Something’s whirring down here. Sounds like hydraulics.” Josie buzzed louder in his ear and jolted Remy out of his reverie. He couldn’t respond at the bar without others overhearing their conversation so he just drummed his fingers along his ear. Probably meant the auction would be starting soon if the hydraulic lifts were starting.

  Sure enough, not a minute later a low chime sounded behind the bar and people started filtering to the back room. Remy took his drink and resumed his easy-going and confident con smile that barely met his eyes.

  Showtime.