Chapter 0347

“I can’t believe you got me a job,” Daniel grumbles from the passenger seat, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares out the

window.

“Bout time,” Jerome murmurs as he drives, smirking as he keeps his eyes on the road.

Daniel makes a squeak of protest as he turns to glare at his boyfriend, but Jerome just laughs. “Seriously, Danny,” he says,

shaking his head, “you've never had a job in your life. Pay your dues! Especially as it doesn’t sound like Donna Lippert back

there,” he says, pointing at me with a thumb over his shoulder, “intends for you to do it forever.”

“Just for a little bit, Daniel,” I say, looking up from my phone for just a second to see him glaring at me, “until we get the

information we need.”

“And what information,” Daniel snaps, “do we need? So I can get it and get out of there as fast as possible.”

“I don’t know yet,” I sigh, content. “I'll know it when I hear it.”

Daniel grumbles more and Jerome laughs at him.

“You know this is your fault, Jerome,” I call to him, tucking my phone back into my purse and smiling as I stir the pot.

“What!?” he gasps, glaring at me in the rearview mirror. “What the hell did I do?”

“You pamper Daniel,” I say, grinning and settling back against the leather of my own seat. “You take him to the beach all day, and

carry his bag, and make it so he never wants to do a day of work in his whole life, because he just wants to hang out with you —*

“Um, I did not start this pattern, Fay,” Jerome corrects, “it's your baby daddy that let him go to college for eternity, majoring in

end-of-the-road degrees like English and Philosophy and Archaeology.”

“True,” I say with a sigh. “Though I'd like to see you accuse Kent of it to his face.”

“I would,” Jerome says, assured. “As long as he was. ..still behind bars.”

We all laugh at that, Daniel shaking his head and not really denying that he’s been a bit of a spoiled rich boy his whole life. But

neither Jerome nor I really hold it against him — though we are willing to tease him about it. We like Daniel just the way he is, and

I know Jerome in particular likes to dote on him. It’s part of why they work.

Daniel, I suspect, pays Jerome back in his own way.

But before I can decide whether I even want to consider what those methods of payback are — he is my husband, after all —I sit

up straight when we turn the corner onto our street and I see a familiar car in the driveway.

“No way,” Jerome murmurs, slowing down and shaking his head.

“They let him keep the Ferrari?” Daniel whispers, completely shocked.

My heart begins to pound as I realize that, while I thought today’s work was over and I could just relax...

Apparently, it’s just begun. Because Ivan has come for a visit. And I have to be very, very careful with how I handle this.

“Did you know about this?” Daniel snaps, turning to me suddenly.

“I did not,” I answer, firm, my voice low with my instant anger at the accusation behind his question.

“Well you didn’t tell me about lunch today —*

“This is different,” I snap. “And you know it.”

Daniel takes a deep breath, staring at me, and then he nods, understanding.

“All right, boys,” I say, leaning forward to look out the windshield, trying to see if Ivan is anywhere in sight. But I don’t see him yet.

“Follow my lead.”

“Hey, Fay!” Janeen calls to me from

the kitchen in the sing-song wa

always used t dee

ay DHEA er sa peeks around the

corner of the second-floor landing, an

eager grin on her face. “Your cop

friend came to visit.” Please read the

original content at .

I roll my eyes at her as I make my way up the stairs, Daniel and Jerome coming along behind me.

“Thanks, Janeen,” I murmur. “But we kind of figured it out, considering the flashy car in the driveway.”

“You know me,” Ivan says as we come into the kitchen. I immediately turn to face him. “I always like to make an impression.”

I look Ivan up and down, considering

that his look has completely changed

since he’s come out from be; aM

under-co er, WhensaSHewas always

badlb chic before, now he’s...well,

he’s clean cut in black pants and a

button-up shirt. But somehow he’s

still got that air of bad boy around

him. The tattoos, after all, are all real.

Please read the original content at

.

Ivan smiles as he sees me taking him in, slowly lifting a glass of lemonade to his lips and taking a sip.

“Seriously?” I ask, turning to Janeen and frowning at her. “You gave him refreshments?”

“Well, I will not be rude, Fay,” Janeen

says, giving me a mock frow at

secretly tells me bowddelgnted she is

Dal dens occurring in the

house right now. “Not in my own

home.” Please read the original

content at .