“A ‘boob shot?” I ask. “Oh my goodness, tell us more, Sarah Cruz.”
Sarah blushes. “Just a little sexting with this really hot guy I met online.” She looks at Jonas, but he remains stone-faced. “A hot guy whousedto have a sense of humor,” she continues. “It’s no big deal—all the kids are doing it these days.”
Jesus. My brother’s being a total prick. I gotta help this poor girl out. “And all the politicians,” I add.
“And athletes,” Henn says.
“And housewives,” Kat adds.
“And grandmas,” I say.
“And some priests, too,” Henn adds, and everyone (except Jonas) laughs.
Kat beams a smile at me and I wink back at her.
“Sarah, you picked the perfect bait for your email,” Kat says, swigging from a water bottle. “No matter how smart or powerful or rich a guy might be, he’s got the same Kryptonite as every other man throughout history.” She raises one eyebrow at me. “Nakedboobs.”
I return the eyebrow-raise. “Are we really that simple?” I ask.
“Yes,” Kat says. “You really are.”
I laugh.
“Never underestimate the power of porn,” Henn says.
“That’s catchy,” Kat says. “The porn industry should adopt that for a billboard campaign.”
“I don’t think the porn industry needs help with their marketing,” Henn says.
I look over at Jonas again, hoping he’s eased up on the psycho-killer bullshit, but he’s still channeling Ted Bundy over there. Shit. Poor Sarah. A woman’s got to be superhuman to put up with my fucking brother, I swear to God—or maybe just a masochist.
“That was really quick thinking on your feet, Sarah,” I say. “You went in there hoping to harpoon a baby whale, and you wound up landing Moby Dick. Great job.” I raise my eyebrows pointedly at Jonas. “Right, bro?Aren’t you proud of her?” I say.
Jonas scowls at me, the bastard.
“I was scared; I’m not gonna lie,” Sarah says. “My hands were shaking like crazy the whole time I was in there. But there was no way I was gonna leave that building without implanting that virus, no matter what. There was too much at stake.”
“You’re such a badass, Sarah,” Kat says.
Jonas exhales and uncrosses his arms and Sarah shoots him a look that says, “Screw you, motherfucker.” Ah, well, maybe little Miss Sarah Cruz is gonna be able to handle my brother, after all.
“Hey, guys,” Henn says, engrossed with something on his screen. “Holy shit. Oksana’s going into her bank account right now—that Henderson Bank we were scouting out before?” He stares at the screen for another ten seconds. “Sha-zam. She just typed in her password. Ha! I got it.” He shakes his head. “Oh man, I love technology.”
“So what do we do?” Sarah asks.
“We wait a few minutes for her to log off, and then we go in and snoop around.”
“Sounds like the perfect time for me to fill drink orders,” I say, heading to the bar. “Party Girl with a Hyphen?”
“Club soda, please.”
“You sure you don’t want a little hair of the dog?”
She shakes her head, grimacing. “I’m sure.”
Damn, she’s cute. “I’ll join you. My liver could probably use a little break.”
“We’re really not living up to our nicknames, you know,” she says.
