Love Scars - 1: Scratch Read Online Free

they’ll bid up the price,” Brad said.
    “Or worse,” I said. “MolyMo has so many US senators its pocket, they could tack a rider onto some legislation and make it impossible for any company except MolyMo to bid on the mineral rights.”
    “Fucking congress,” Brad said. “Why don’t we have any senators in our pocket?”
    “Did Heron see you?” I said.
    “No, but I heard something later when I was helping Lisa get ready for the party tonight—the one you’re going to, by the way.”
    “Am not. I don’t do parties. I especially don’t do parties with civilians.”
    “You’re going. When I was setting up the keg, I heard Lisa talking with her roommate Nora—who is taking the internship, ironically. Nora said some guy approached her outside Dr. Barton’s office today with an offer to work on a side project at the dig.”
    “Some guy meaning Heron,” I said. “Dammit. What project?”
    “Nora wouldn’t say. Said if she didn’t keep it a secret, the deal was off. That’s why I came back here, to get you. You’re going to the party, and you’re going to sweet talk it out of her.”
    “Sweet talk? Jeez, Brad. Grown men don’t actually use words like that.”
    “You know what I mean,” Brad said.
    “Why don’t you sweet talkit out of her then?”
    “I can’t hit on my angel’s roommate.”
    “She’s not your angel, last I heard. Or did the boyfriend crash and burn?”
    “Fabulous Frank is still in the picture.”
    If Brad was a cartoon, a dark cloud would’ve appeared over his head complete with thunder and lightning and rain.
    “What’s the problem, then? Is she gross?”
    “She’s fine. She’s cute. She’s a babe.”
    “Somehow you’re not convincing me. Besides, I hate going out in public. Everybody always wants a job. Or a loan. Or a grant.”
    “J.D., nobody will know who you are. It’s a bunch of humanities students. They think about art and philosophy and ancient near east fertility goddesses. They wouldn’t know sexting from ethernet audio/video bridging. Your secret will be safer than Nora’s.”
    “What’s my secret?” I shouldn’t have asked.
    “You’re a tech genius billionaire asshole.”
    “As long as that’s cleared up.” I had to go, since apparently Brad couldn’t hit on his angel’s roommate. But I was getting something out of it. “Okay, I’ll do this. But you have to do something for me.”
    I went through the shirts I kept in my office closet and picked out a sky-blue hemp and cotton blend sleeveless pullover.
    “Wear this.” I threw it at Brad. “Think of it as a disguise. You’re going to a party as not-a-dork.”
    “Now you’re a fashion critic,” Brad said.
    “Lisa might see the real you if you didn’t dress like a dork,” I said.
    “The real me is a dork,” Brad said.
    I grabbed my Pashley Roadster from the corner. “Where is this party, anyway?” We headed for my office’s private elevator. I’d had it built deep, like a hospital elevator, to accommodate the bike.
    “Carolinda Estates,” Brad said. “Close enough to you. You can ride home if the earth opens up and swallows Frank and I get lucky.”
    “Right,” I said.
    “It could happen,” Brad said. Ever the optimist.

Chapter 4
     
      “Carolinda Estates,” I said. “Not exactly a distressed neighborhood.”
    “It’s an older place. But yeah, on acreage in Granite Bay. It’s worth a few bucks.” Brad pushed the button for the lobby. “Nora inherited it. I don’t think she’s swimming in cash, though. She’s excited about Heron’s gig because it will pay off her student loans. Lisa had to buy all the stuff for tonight.”
    “You didn’t…”
    “Pay? No. I should have, but no. I didn’t blow my cover.”
    “That had to be hard on your manhood, letting your angel pay.”
    “Okay. Maybe I paid for the keg a little bit.”
    We stopped at the Raley’s at Douglas and Auburn-Folsom so I could pick up a bottle of booze. I wasn’t crashing a party