Free At the Brink by Anna del Mar

casualties of joining you.”
    “Working with me isn’t so bad.” Ernest waved his manicured fingers in the air. “Ask any of these fine gentlemen sitting in this room. Perhaps we can add some additional profit to entice you.”
    “It’s really not about money for me.”
    “I know you’re a workaholic,” Ernest said. “We would keep you very busy doing some very interesting stuff.”
    “You’re missing the point,” I said. “I don’t like to be told what to do and I don’t share my toys well.”
    “You sound like a toddler.”
    “I also bite when I get cranky.”
    Everybody in the room laughed. I looked at my watch. I’d allotted an hour to this meeting and it had already lasted two. I tapped my fingers on the table.
    “Surely there are others in your company that would see the benefit of this merger.” Ernest adjusted his silk tie. “Thomas, you’ve been at this for many years. What do you think?”
    “It’s Josh’s call,” Thomas said. “All of us at Phoenix Prime will support his decision.”
    “I tell you what,” Ernest said. “How about if I throw in some generous contributions to the Healing Warrior Development Fund, the Rubicon Project and the Houses for Heroes Program?”
    Son of a bitch. As if the obscene offer wasn’t enough, now he was trying to bribe me with charity. I refused to sell out my investors. “The answer is no, Ernest.”
    “But...”
    I was done listening. Instead, I glanced at my phone, scrolling down my texts. My heartbeat tripped. There it was, a new text from Lily.
    “Time to call it a day.” I ended the meeting, riling Ernest but managing a quick exit. I’d fended off one assault. Now it was time to launch a new offensive.
    I clicked on Lily’s text as soon as I got into my private elevator. Her efforts brought another smile to my face. Was this her definition of outrageous? She stood in front of the same mirror again, but this time without her bra, shielding her nipples with one hand while taking the picture with the other. At the bottom of the picture she’d added one word.
    Please.
    I’ll admit that I found the picture provocative, but only because it was Lily. I’ll also admit to another hard-on, but that’s because I was in the grip of a major obsession. What should have been a simple requirement was turning out to be a monumental feat. That’s what I got for deviating from both my mission and my usual uncomplicated type. But the thought of giving up now was inconceivable.
    It pays to be a winner.
    With a muted chime, my private elevator doors slid open at the lower garage level to reveal my favorite sedan—a custom silver Audi S8—and my driver, Amman, holding open the passenger side door. I settled into the back seat, pulled up the last report I had from Riker and punched in the address into my cell’s GPS.
    “Back Bay?” Amman said, buckling into the driver’s seat and starting the car.
    “No,” I said. “Head to the North End.”
    Twenty minutes later, we parked on a narrow street across from Vinnie’s Italian Diner. I asked Amman to wait and went inside. It was late and the dinner rush was over. The restaurant’s booths were empty and only a couple of locals lingered at the bar. I took off my jacket and, after loosening my tie, sat in one of the diner’s back booths.
    The black giant who came to take my order was Vinnie himself, very different from the little Italian grandpa I’d expected.
    “Yo, friend, what can I get you?” Vinnie spoke in a thick Cajun accent.
    “You’re not from around here,” I said. “And I’m betting you’re not from Italy either.”
    Vinnie’s cackles echoed in the small dining room.
    “New Orleans,” he said. “Katrina sent me off. My daddy always said I should’ve learned to cook gumbo and jambalaya, but my mamma liked her pasta, so ya’ll got lucky.”
    “Is Lily here?” I asked.
    “Lily?” He gave me a second look. “She’s here, doing inventory in the back. Are you a friend of