Page 105 of Honey Cut
The fog is a menace now, hanging so thickly over the river that I can barely see the water, and the city itself is reduced to a suggestion of lights in the haze. It’s late now, past two or three in the morning, and everything is hushed, the stillness before Halloween descends on the district and brings with it expensive parties and even more expensive mistakes.
Except…
No. Not everything is hushed. I can hear voices coming from above me, from the roof. Two people—one cold voice and one rich contralto.
I stay completely still, straining to hear.
“…could have told you Andrea was trying to prove something.” It’s Dinah. “She’s literally never suggested we take our high-profile guests on a night tour of the grounds.”
“It was Anguish’s idea first, and does it matter when she was right?” comes Mark’s reply. His voice is tired and bitter, and I want to fling myself into the river after hearing it. “She was right all along about the two of them.”
“She didn’t have to do it so publicly. It embarrassed you and reflected badly on the club.”
“She did it publicly because she knew that if it were revealed privately, I would deal with it privately. And after Belgrade, she doesn’t think that’s enough.”
“After Belgrade… What happened in Belgrade, Mark?”
He doesn’t answer, and I hear Dinah snort. “Only you could make an arranged marriage a kinky fucking mess.”
“I do my best,” he says dryly. Still a little bitter.
“At any rate, it’s no business of Andrea’s. Do you know what Isolde told me yesterday when you got back? She told me that she thought Andrea had been involved with Drobny somehow.”
“She tried to tell me that too. In Belgrade.”
“Tried? You don’t believe her?”
“I believe that she believes it. I even believe that about the club. But Andrea has no interest in fraternizing with anyone like Drobny.”
Dinah makes a noise. “Mark, you know Andrea and I have worked together for five years without issue, and other than her sparkling fucking personality, I’ve had no complaints. But she’s messing with the club’s image now—and clearly messing with your head. Is there some reason Ishouldn’tbelieve she’d fraternize with someone who attacked the club?”
“There is,” says Mark.
“And…that is?”
“She hates the same people I hate.”
I hear a steady beeping in the distance, like a truck backing up, and then Dinah asks, carefully, “Is this something to do with the time you worked with her in the CIA?”
“It is.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
He doesn’t reply, and Dinah laughs, sounding unsurprised. “No, don’t give me that look. I probably don’t even want to know.”
“You do not.”
More trucks beeping. Dinah swears. “Last of the deliveries for the Samhain celebration tomorrow. I need to make sure everything’s accounted for before I clock out.”
She waits a minute and then adds, “If you want to crash at my place tonight, you can. I know you’ll probably just take one of the rooms downstairs, but if you don’t want to be alone, the offer’s open.”
“Thank you, Dinah,” says Mark.
“I mean it.” Her voice sounds farther off now, like she’s stepped away from the balcony. “And Mark?”
“Yes?”
“I watch every day as that boy follows you around with puppy-dog eyes,” she says. “I watch that rosary-praying girl let you defile her six ways to Sunday anytime you’ve got the itch. Whatever you decide to do, just…don’t hurt yourself doing it, okay? I think you know that if you throw their love away, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
