Guns Will Keep Us Together Read Online Free Page A
Author: Leslie Langtry
strange journey.
    ~The Rocky Horror Picture Show
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After Kelly agreed (a bit too eagerly) to my suggestion of dinner the next night, Paris and I got to work on the marketing plans for the Bombay Family business.
"Man, I can't believe we did work for the Republicans four times this century." Paris shook his head. "Although that kind of makes sense now that I think of it."
I leafed through a few pages of my binder. "I can't believe the Family actually wrote this shit down! I mean, look at this one!" I pointed at a high-profile hit of a politician in the nineteenth century. I'd tell you more, but I had to sign a confidentiality clause in my own blood when I was five. You might think we'd forget something that happened when we were little, but there's something about a family blood ritual and Grandma in a goat skull headdress that sticks in your mind.
Paris nodded. "Yeah. Well, at least we have a record of who our main clients are."
"Are you even surprised? I mean we always suspected the CIA, the Feds, Interpol and the Yard, and here it is in black and white." And color too. Grandma did the pie charts as literal cherry pies and all the bullet points were little skulls.
"Okay," Paris said, "where do we start?"
"I wonder if it's hereditary," I mused aloud.
"What?" Paris cocked his right eyebrow. Bastard. I've never been able to do that.
"You know. E.D. I mean, Dad has it, right?"
Paris stared at me. "Will you give it up and concentrate? This presentation is important!"
I sat back in my chair. "And you're just eating it up, right?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Paris growled.
I stabbed my finger at him. "You love doing this. You've probably been waiting your whole life for this type of assignment."
He slapped my hand away. "Oh for Christ's sake. You're pissed because I didn't argue with Grandma about it."
Damn. He nailed it. I never could get away with anything where Paris, Gin or Liv were concerned. And you can bet one of my dazzling smiles wasn't going to get me out of this one.
"Fine." I was behaving like an immature jerk, but losing access to your favorite appendage will do that to a man. "Let's get this over with."
We spent the afternoon going through the binders, ass-deep in reports on the financial history of the Bombay Clan's Greatest Hits. And I'll grudgingly admit it was kind of fascinating. I'm pretty sure no one but the Council had access to the history of a family of assassins spanning 4,000 years. You couldn't find this stuff on geneology.com.
"All right." I leaned back in my chair and pushed the binder to the middle of the table. "I'm done for today." I looked at my Tag Heuer watch. "Got a hot date tonight with a tree hater."
Paris and I agreed to meet up again tomorrow, but from the look on his face, he was going to keep working. Bastard . He'd probably get the bigger gift from Grandma too.
Back at home, I stashed the bamboo plant and anything with a tree motif in the shed. I had to succeed tonight. My next dilemma was more difficult. It took me two hours, but I finally managed to find a restaurant with no trees outside or in. I didn't realize how hard it would be. After finding a route with the fewest trees from Kelly's house to the Flaming Lemur, I jumped in the shower and got ready.
Kelly answered her door with a big smile and a little black dress. We drove to the restaurant with no incident and even made it to our table without a freak out.
"I'm so glad you called, Dakota," she purred. "I was afraid you'd forgotten about me."
"Impossible." How do you forget about a woman who can't even go outside? "I've been looking forward to this." Not a lie! Of course, I was more looking forward to nailing her than talking to her, but first things first.
She took her napkin and placed it on her lap, "I suppose you're still wondering if I'm still dendrophobic?"
It has a name? "Are you?" I asked.
"No. I have a great therapist. Actually, my fear of trees was related to a
    ~The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Â
Â
After Kelly agreed (a bit too eagerly) to my suggestion of dinner the next night, Paris and I got to work on the marketing plans for the Bombay Family business.
"Man, I can't believe we did work for the Republicans four times this century." Paris shook his head. "Although that kind of makes sense now that I think of it."
I leafed through a few pages of my binder. "I can't believe the Family actually wrote this shit down! I mean, look at this one!" I pointed at a high-profile hit of a politician in the nineteenth century. I'd tell you more, but I had to sign a confidentiality clause in my own blood when I was five. You might think we'd forget something that happened when we were little, but there's something about a family blood ritual and Grandma in a goat skull headdress that sticks in your mind.
Paris nodded. "Yeah. Well, at least we have a record of who our main clients are."
"Are you even surprised? I mean we always suspected the CIA, the Feds, Interpol and the Yard, and here it is in black and white." And color too. Grandma did the pie charts as literal cherry pies and all the bullet points were little skulls.
"Okay," Paris said, "where do we start?"
"I wonder if it's hereditary," I mused aloud.
"What?" Paris cocked his right eyebrow. Bastard. I've never been able to do that.
"You know. E.D. I mean, Dad has it, right?"
Paris stared at me. "Will you give it up and concentrate? This presentation is important!"
I sat back in my chair. "And you're just eating it up, right?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Paris growled.
I stabbed my finger at him. "You love doing this. You've probably been waiting your whole life for this type of assignment."
He slapped my hand away. "Oh for Christ's sake. You're pissed because I didn't argue with Grandma about it."
Damn. He nailed it. I never could get away with anything where Paris, Gin or Liv were concerned. And you can bet one of my dazzling smiles wasn't going to get me out of this one.
"Fine." I was behaving like an immature jerk, but losing access to your favorite appendage will do that to a man. "Let's get this over with."
We spent the afternoon going through the binders, ass-deep in reports on the financial history of the Bombay Clan's Greatest Hits. And I'll grudgingly admit it was kind of fascinating. I'm pretty sure no one but the Council had access to the history of a family of assassins spanning 4,000 years. You couldn't find this stuff on geneology.com.
"All right." I leaned back in my chair and pushed the binder to the middle of the table. "I'm done for today." I looked at my Tag Heuer watch. "Got a hot date tonight with a tree hater."
Paris and I agreed to meet up again tomorrow, but from the look on his face, he was going to keep working. Bastard . He'd probably get the bigger gift from Grandma too.
Back at home, I stashed the bamboo plant and anything with a tree motif in the shed. I had to succeed tonight. My next dilemma was more difficult. It took me two hours, but I finally managed to find a restaurant with no trees outside or in. I didn't realize how hard it would be. After finding a route with the fewest trees from Kelly's house to the Flaming Lemur, I jumped in the shower and got ready.
Kelly answered her door with a big smile and a little black dress. We drove to the restaurant with no incident and even made it to our table without a freak out.
"I'm so glad you called, Dakota," she purred. "I was afraid you'd forgotten about me."
"Impossible." How do you forget about a woman who can't even go outside? "I've been looking forward to this." Not a lie! Of course, I was more looking forward to nailing her than talking to her, but first things first.
She took her napkin and placed it on her lap, "I suppose you're still wondering if I'm still dendrophobic?"
It has a name? "Are you?" I asked.
"No. I have a great therapist. Actually, my fear of trees was related to a
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