Chapter 23
It was early evening and Vincent and I were seated in the living room, by the window. Snow and wind rattled the glass behind us. It was bitterly cold out there.
Vincent took out his wallet. “Here.” He slapped four fifties on the coffee table.
I glanced down at the bills. “I worked three hours in the last week, Vincent. You’re not paying me over fifty dollars an hour, now are you?”
He made a face and stretched his arm over the couch edge, giving me a long, impatient look.
“Come on. I made a few calls and fixed an Excel sheet for you.”
Vincent’s fierce dark eyes narrowed, his stare boring into me.
“Fine.” I grabbed the money and stuffed it into my jeans. “You should have played a gangster in a noir movie.” I looked over to see Justin strolling back into the living room, car
