Page 39 of Smuggler's Beauty

He had wanted to leave theDawnafter this gig. The constant stream of entitled asshole clients had worn down his joy in the craft. But the prospect of putting his skills to use for a cause he could get behind might fan the flame back to life.

Had the others not been interested in aiding Tanalian freedom, he’d have gone hurtling toward the cause alone.

Especially because he was willing to bet his condo in Orlando that Evelyn was going to be heading in the same direction.

Nothing like having your cake and eating it, too.

“If we have to transport one more litter of hypoallergenic poodles to Taurus Nine I’m going to rip my hair out,” Veselko said. “They get into everything. I don’t know why those rich asshats can’t just file paperwork to get the damn things legally. Even I pay taxes.”

Nannette laughed. “You file fictitious papers every year.”

“Yeah, but I still file!”

“You really took that Al Capone documentary to heart,” Lillian said. “We file, too. Don’t mess with tax authorities.”

“The point is, I’m bored, this sounds dangerous and sort of fun, and I like Evelyn. Plus, Vinnie’s going to pay us a shitload of money. So I’m in,” Veselko said, crossing his arms.

“I haven’t written a good script for ages. I’d love working on a propaganda campaign,” Veronique said. “I don’t mind working to get Evelyn camera ready. I’d like to direct.”

“If the plan isn’t a suicide mission, I would like to participate in the liberation of the planet,” Tariel said. “I still think we should work on a backup identity for Evelyn. It’s always best to be prepared in case things fall apart.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “From a purely financial standpoint, this would give me a bit of cushion, now that the transportation job has cleared our account. It would be foolish to turn down the opportunity.” Aiden hadn’t even noticed the chime on his communicator when the credits had cleared into their account on the drive back to theDawn.

Tariel must be doing internal cartwheels to be out from under that settlement.

“Aiden isn’t going to do anything without three backup plans, Tar. You know that,” Elenor said, looking at Aiden fondly.

“It feels like the right thing to do if we get answers to our questions. I don’t want to be a puppet for Vinnie ever again,” Lillian said.

“Agreed,” Elenor said. “If I wanted someone’s hand up my ass we’d be having a very different meeting. More tarps, less harsh, overhead lighting.”

Aiden gagged and shook his head. “I need mind bleach,” he said. “Why don’t we take the night, compile our lists of information demands, and reconvene in the morning?”

The crew agreed to the plan and dispersed. Aiden gathered his napkins to transfer the notes to his whiteboard. Nannette stayed in her seat, fiddling with her knife. He changed course and sat down next to her.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said.

“That’s the problem. I do want to,” she said. “It’s the right thing to do, and it’s a great payday. Who gets paid to be morally superior?”

“Apparently, we do. But risking you is not something I’m willing to do. If you don’t think we can do this without blowing your cover, then we don’t do it. Or we work the plan until we find a way to do it safely.” He grabbed her non-knife-wielding hand, demanding eye contact. “He’s not going to find you.”

Nannette smiled. “I hope not. Because it’s going to be a pain in the ass to keep myself free if he does.”

Aiden grinned. “We’re professionals. We have years of experience at keeping things from prying eyes.”

“True. I can always bunk with the poodles.”

“I hear they’re generous cuddlers.” He got up from the cafe chair and patted her shoulder. “I’m going to transfer these notes and head out for a bit. Do you want me to grab anything?”

“I might take the other car and do a grocery sweep. It never hurts to stock up on red sauce.”

“Sound planning,” he said. “Our kitchen inventory would be in shambles without you.”

“When you fail to plan, you plan to fail.”

“Heavens forbid we fail to plan pasta night.”

“Priorities. Everyone’s got ’em.”

Aiden headed back to his office to transfer his napkins to his whiteboard. Satisfied that he’d got all his thoughts onto his preferred sorting medium, he checked the local time.