“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dorian cast a doubtful stare from across the table.
The bar was packed for a Monday Happy Hour, but they’d found a fairly secluded spot toward the back.
He and Riggs had lost their carefree smiles the second Vaughn broke the news.
“This was a blast, don’t get me wrong. But it’s time to move on.”
“I’m not talking about leaving the Knights. This role could only go on for so long.” D swirled the beer in the bottle. “I’m referring to Cora. She’s the one you want to leave for.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life.”
“Back to Miami, huh?” Riggs crushed a peanut between his fingers.
“For the interim. Not sure where we’ll end up, but this is my new start. For both of us.”
“Texas won’t be the same without you.” Riggs tapped the bottom of his bottle against Vaughn’s Shiner Bock.
“When do you head out?” Dorian failed to hide the disappointment on his face.
“A few weeks. Cora has to finish the interviews with a few federal agencies regarding the latest recovery.”
“The one she pulled off while we were eye candy for Conway?”
Vaughn grimaced. “Who wasn’t what she pretended to be. She’ll probably be under federal investigation by the time we finish these beers.”
“Black market arts dealer?” Dorian shook his head. “All that artwork just sitting in her study?”
“All stolen by Nazi’s, mostly from Holocaust victims.”
His tattooed friend reclined in his chair. “I’ll admit when I’m wrong. And I was wrong about her. She’s the real deal.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to do any clean up this time around.” He smirked.
Vaughn chuckled. “Not anymore. We’ve come a long way since that cruise ship.”
“There’s one more fight you have to have, which I won’t have anything to do with.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I know.”
“First Renner, then you. Duane’s going to shit bricks over this.”
“If my ass shits anything, it’s gold nuggets.” Duane strolled over in his black suit and silver tie. Like he just walked off the Queen of England’s private jet.
Dorian grinned at the boss. “That’s my cue. Besides, I have a neighbor I’m trying to persuade into a date.” He shook Rigg’s hand, and stood.
Vaughn gave him a one-handed hug, and both guys left. Leaving just his boss, and the black cloud hanging between them.
Duane took Dorian’s chair, dominating the table like he owned the whole joint. His subtle scowl was disguised by a well-practiced poker face.
Vaughn could always read through those.
“Fifty percent,” the Brit announced out of nowhere.
He tilted his head.
“You keep fifty percent of my commission on all appointments, and I’ll fund your startup in Miami, if you’d consider expanding the business.”
He swallowed back a chuckle. The man is relentless. “Always dealing.”
“You can’t fault a man for trying. This agency seems to have a purge at the moment.”
“Thank you for the offer. That’s a real compliment from you.”
“So, you’re done?”
Vaughn nodded. “Effective immediately.”
The boss knocked on the table’s surface once. “Then since I’m no longer your boss, I can say you’re a wanker for leaving me in this position. But, thank you.”
“For what?”
“As slimy as a man has to be in this business, I’d never suffer servicing clients like Conway. So far as to say, I wouldn’t invite the likes of Hitler in my flat.”
Vaughn nodded. “You should thank Cora.”
“I’ll leave that to you.” He stood, fished a few bills out of his money clip.
“I’ve got this,” he interrupted. “Thanks for taking the chance on me on that cruise ship.”
Without a word, Duane shook his hand, strong and quick. Then turned and walked out, like he owned all of Dallas.