A Is for Apple Read Online Free Page B

Essex”, and I’d rather be thought of as a toff than a Shazzer, thank you very much.
    “And what are you doing here in New York?” He said it Noo Yoik.
    “Business,” I said.
    “What kind of business?”
    The mind your own kind, I nearly said, but I was too distracted, because during one of my many glances towards the door I saw someone familiar walk in. Someone very familiar.
    “Excuse me,” I said to the bartender, leaving money on the bar, and hopped off my stool and ran over. “What are you doing here?”
    He stared at me. “Do I know you?”
    I frowned. Then, “Oh, yeah, very funny. See, I do scrub up well.”
    “Uh, yeah. Very well. Look, who the hell are you?”
    I stepped back and looked him over. Tall, good body under his jeans and faded green T-shirt, great teeth, lovely hazel eyes, shiny brown hair.
    “Harvey?” I said uncertainly. “What are you doing here?”
    He stared at me a bit more, and then he started laughing. And I laughed too, hesitantly, feeling slightly stupid, still having no idea what was going on.
    “Are you here on—” I looked around, “—business?”
    He grinned and nodded. “Business. Yeah, I like that. I guess I am.”
    Bloody Karen sending someone out to get in my way. “Is it—is it the Shapiro thing?”
    He frowned and took me by the arm to a further away corner of the plush bar.
    “What do you know about the Shapiro thing?”
    “Duh, it’s why I’m here. Didn’t Luke tell you?”
    “Well—”
    Of course, Luke and Harvey don’t really get on. Luke thinks Harvey’s as useless as a Ken doll, and besides, they started badly when I met Harvey and, er, sort of snogged him before I got together with Luke, and now Luke still thinks there’s some sort of spark between me and Harvey. Whereas Harvey’s a lovely bloke and all, and undeniably cute, but just… I don’t know, just a little too nice. Maybe there’s something wrong with me that I prefer Luke, who is admittedly a bit of a bastard.
    And then someone came up to us, unctuously dressed in the hotel uniform, and asked Harvey greasily, “Excuse me, sir, are you a resident?”
    “Well, no, but—”
    “It’s just that we do have a dress code here in the Houston bar,” the uniform gave a little sneer, “a tie, and no sneakers or jeans for gentleman.”
    “Oh, just for gentlemen?” Harvey said. “The ladies don’t have to wear a tie?”
    The uniform didn’t smile.
    “Look,” I said, “he just forgot, right, Harvey? Why don’t we get out of here, ‘cos I don’t think Shapiro’s coming, and we can go talk about this, right? My hotel’s not too far.”
    They both looked at me, the hotel guy with a leer, and Harvey with panic.
    “Listen, lady,” he said, “I appreciate it and all, but—”
    Jesus, did he think I was making a move on him? And hadn’t he once invited me up to his hotel room? No, not once—twice?
    “I’m not making a move,” I hissed. “Doesn’t the name Luke mean anything to you?”
    Harvey opened his mouth, but the hotel guy got in there first. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said.
    Harvey glared at him, then me, and said, “ Fine .”
    And then he walked out.
    Bloody hell.
    I shuffled after him on my painful feet, mumbling to my mike, “Macbeth, can you hear me?”
    “Loud and clear. I got surveillance set up outside the room, I’ll holler if he’s coming. You go after the Yank.”
    “You know why he’s here?”
    “No idea. Not like they ever tell us anything.”
    “Cheers,” I muttered, and caught up with Harvey at the revolving doors. Then I got stuck and went round twice before being ejected onto the pavement and nearly knocking Harvey over as he lit up a cigarette.
    “I didn’t know you smoked,” I said in surprise.
    “What you don’t know about me could fill the Empire State,” he said. “Who the hell are you?”
    “This isn’t funny—”
    “Nope. Listen, lady, I’m not who you think I am.”
    No kidding.
    “You know