“We could have wicked parties here,” one of Bar’s brothers said.

“No,” Ashley said. “Not here. If this serves as my headquarters, it’s a place that will demand respect. I’ve seen how you cretins get when you party.”

Someone in the group snorted. She turned her head to look, saw the others glancing at O’Brien, and gave O’Brien a sharp look.

“Yes ma’am. Entirely right,” the boy said.

“Downstairs, maybe, or in the backyard,” she conceded.

“It’s a good backyard for parties,” J said. “Have a look.”

Ashley walked to the window, looking down. There was a small pool, with a garden and places to sit all around the pool. The second smaller pool off in the corner might have been a hot tub.

J approached. He stood beside her, looking down. The others collapsed onto the couches and chairs, or ran downstairs.

“Four jobs. One was—not a success, not a failure,” she said. “I didn’t make this much money.”

“You did. We made out like bandits when we raided the pit. You can afford first and last month’s rent. Not much else, but you can earn enough to keep paying for this place.”

“Not much else is a problem,” she said.

Angel had reached the pool below them. She pulled her shoe off and stuck her foot in, before kicking water at Bar.

“What do you want to spend money on?” J asked.

“Things. Clothes. Status. I need to look the part. We need money to make money.”

“Based on what I’ve seen and the work I’ve done,” he said. “I think this matters more than you’re implying.”

Oh, it mattered.

J’s brother was a marketing guy, working with DJs and new bands to craft an image and generate hype. J had helped out enough to learn things, and he’d done a few small events on his own.

“Other things matter more. I have enemies to deal with.”

“I get it,” J said. “Looking like a contender, hiring more people.”

Ashley nodded.

“But look at our guys. They see this and it says something to them. They’re down for it. Your headquarters is as much a part of your status as the dresses you wear. Same for a musician.”

She wanted it. She wanted it so badly it made her chest hurt.

“Money opens doors. I can’t tie up my funds. The Clockwork Dogs are too dangerous,” she said. “I can’t throw all of you at them and expect it to be fine. We’ll need the money to hire mercenaries.”

“You attacked Blastgerm when we thought he had twenty capes. Why the doubt now?”

She didn’t immediately reply.