Reaching into my bag, I flipped a card between my fingers—my name and my number, nothing else—and scribbled on it, Men are assholes, but I like your style. Call me if you want a free drink. Then, for good measure, I wrote NOT A DATE!!! at the bottom, underlining it twice. I dropped it in front of her without looking.

“Hey . . . !” she called after me, but I didn’t stop.

If she was the kind of girl I had any use for, she would chase me.

Chapter 2

Lou had picked up immediately. Told me she was sober and tired of it and where did I want to meet her? No, wait, she knew exactly the place: a tonga-hutted skid mark not far from the St. Leo. I met her there, a hole-in-the-wall terror of a tiki bar, walls painted a ghastly labial pink, canned thrums of an absent ukulele clogging the air.

Lou had a knack for finding the last place I’d ever want to go.

Break it up into little pieces, I’d told myself as I was leaving the St. Leo. Call Lou. Figure out the next meetup between Ellen and Klein. I had to make sure there was no way to fuck that up, even if I had to record it myself. And then, a little treat for last: Murder Robert Jackal in his bed.

I’d spent the majority of the ride trying Jackal’s number. The rage boiling inside me had simmered to a slow burn by the time I hit traffic, but my fingernails left dents in the steering wheel.

Blackmail was only as good as its evidence. I knew that. All the research in the world wouldn’t make up for a missed opportunity, and this one had been golden. Without tape, Ellen was a nobody. Another girl who wouldn’t be believed. A fucking nightmare.

I slammed the dashboard with the heel of my hand so hard that by the time I met Lou at the bar, I had a bruise.

Weeks ago, at the start of the job, Lou had passed the Lady’s envelope to me, the one with Klein’s name in it, and I swear, I swear, her eyes had been shining when she’d said: “This should close it, right?” She hadn’t needed to elaborate. We were both keeping track of how much I owed, even if Lou pretended she wasn’t. It was my debt and my problem, but I knew it hung over her, too. It was a secret we shared, even if only one of us was paying for it.