“You said you would consider making the item I requested.” Yup, definitely male.

“I did consider it, and I asked a single question which you didn’t want to answer. So that means my answer is no. Talk to the twins if you need it made.”

A slap as if a hand had hit the table. “You and I both know their weapons are cheap. They ship them from China half the time! They have no skill, and you do.”

I grinned. I’d known those weapons looked shoddy!

“Answer the question,” Crash repeated. “What use have you for an item of that nature?”

Damn, it was almost like . . . he knew I was listening? Yup, that had to be it. He wasn’t naming anything.

“Why so cagey . . . ah, did I interrupt you and a lady friend? My apologies, I understood that you had sworn off women. Evil creatures that they are.” The “guest” laughed, and I frowned. Evil? Another slam of a hand on that table. “I am not asking now. I am telling. Make me the item. One week, or I will make your life uncomfortable. My overseer is not a patient soul. You know this.”

Silence from Crash for a full minute. “It can’t be made in a week, and you know it.”

Was he giving in to this a-hole’s demands?

“How long will it take?”

Silence again. “Three months. Certain cycles have to be considered in the making of it, you know that.”

The other voice let out a huff. “Fine. Here is your down payment for the crucible.”

Oh, so that’s what it was? Why would it take three months? My curiosity was at its height, which was why I was slow on the uptake of what happened next.

There was a heavy thud and then the sound of footsteps leaving the space. No, not leaving, heading my way. Toward the bedroom.

Shit!

Why did I get the feeling that if I got caught now, my job at the Hollows Group would never happen? Because this person would kill me for overhearing their business with Crash. I dropped my bag and ripped off my clothes, flinging them onto the floor as I stumbled toward the bed, snagging a thick blanket bunched up at the foot of the bed as if it had been too hot for anything but a sheet.

I grabbed the cover, yanked it up and slid under it, closing my eyes as the door creaked open. I fought to keep my breathing slow and even—not an easy feat after that little sprint across the room. There was an upside: Crash’s leftover warmth and smell wrapped around me. Damn, I’d take that any time. I all but sunk into the mattress with a heavy sigh.