Made to Be Broken (Nadia Stafford 2) - Page 95

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You were going to say more. You've heard something, haven't you?"

"Nah. Just..." He paused, his gaze studying mine with that quiet intensity that said he was trying to get inside my head. "Hear Evelyn out. If there's anything to it? Check it out. I'll help."

Chapter Thirty-seven

"Well, I blew that," I said as I backed the car from the parking lot.

"Nah."

"Nah? She kicked us out of the house without a word about the Contrapasso Fellowship. She's furious."

"Sulking."

I glanced at him as I merged with morning traffic.

"If she's really angry?" he said. "You'll never see it. Acts angry? Just that. An act."

"And she's sulking because..."

"Wrong reaction."

"I thought you said she was sulking."

A look, mild exasperation. "Your reaction. To her news."

"Ah. I didn't respond appropriately. She tells me she's uncovered a legendary group of philanthropists who'll presumably pay me very well to avenge horrible crimes, and I should have reacted by, oh, I don't know, kissing her feet and pledging undying devotion."

A small twist of a smile. "That'd have worked."

"So now she's punishing me for my lack of excitement by making me wait."

"Pretty much."

We drove out of the city in silence. Then I said, "I do want to hear about it."

"I know. You will. Just..."

"Be patient. Let her come to me, and when she does, show moderately more interest, enough to satisfy her ego without stroking it."

"Yeah." He ratcheted back the seat, stretching his bad leg. "Probably more than that."

"Give her a stronger reaction, you mean?"

"Nah. Her getting pissy. More than sulking. She's backtracking. Dotting her i's. Crossing her t's."

"About what?"

"This fellowship thing. I questioned it. We demanded proof. Wanted facts. Gonna make damn sure she has them."

"To present a more solid case and avoid the risk of embarrassing herself by admitting she can't back up what she knows. But, naturally, she couldn't just say that, and admit you might be right to question her sources. Instead, she'll blame me, kick me to the curb as an ungrateful bitch, and make me stew for a while, worrying that I've blown a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity while she scrambles to check her facts."

"Pretty much."

I shook my head and adjusted my seat belt. "I know she has a lot to offer, Jack, but I really hate the games. I'm no good at them."

Tags: Kelley Armstrong Nadia Stafford Mystery
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