Diversion 2 - Collusion by Eden Winters Read Free Book Online

Lucky’s hand and sipped from the foul-smelling concoction.“Walter sent me to find you. We’re having a meeting in his office.”
    “Oh, really?” Walter Smith took organization to new heights. Trouble must be brewing for him to call a meeting without announcing days in advance and scheduling on Lucky’s electronic calendar—not that Lucky’d checked his calendar recently. “I reckon I better get moving.” When Walter beckoned, Lucky followed—usually.
    Bo stood his ground when Lucky approached to squeeze through the open doorway of their cube, forcing bodily contact. His smileescalated to a grin and he whispered, “ Dinner last night was awesome, Lucky. Can we do it again tonight, and maybe include actual food this time?” He turned and drifted down the hall a few steps, tossing a coy glance over his shoulder. By the time he reached Walter’s office door he’d returned to business mode.
    Lucky watched Bo walk away, reliving highlights from the previous night. After a discreet package rearrangement, he took a deep draft of his coffee and made his way to his boss’s office.
    The moment he opened the door, all hell broke loose. “Surprise! Happy Birthday!” The blonde receptionist rushed forward, attempting to place a cardboard party hat on Lucky’s head. Thank God, Keith didn’t appear to be filming the fiasco.
    Bo’s restraining hand on her ar m saved the woman from Lucky’s wrath. “Not a good idea,” he told her. The blonde’s smile wavered a moment before she began Act II of Lucky’s worst nightmare, leading roughly a dozen people in singing, “Happy Birthday, dear Simon!”
    If a situation ever arose where Lucky needed to fake his death—again—he damned sure planned to choose his own alias. Billy or Bobby or something easily forgettable. He hated the fuck out of “Simon.” Someone probably woke up laughing every morning at having named him that. Fucker.
    Acid rose in his throat. Coworkers who hardly ever spoke to him wished him well because he’d turned another year older. Keith hovered on the sidelines, chatting with Art, one of the few other agents Lucky tolerated—barely. When the receptionist finally heeded Bo’s warnings to find safety before Lucky exploded, he discovered the true reason for the gathering—cake. These folks were too easy, their goodwill bought with a bit of frosting or a box labeled “Krispy Kreme.” He cut his eyes toward Bo, wondering what Mr. My-body-is-a-temple-sugar-shall-not-enter would say about Lucky diving into the garishly decorated monstrosity face first.
“A small piece won’t hurt,” Bo came close enough to whisper. “We can always run it off this weekend.”
    Much better ways existed to expend excess calories, and none of them involved leaving the house.
Bo wandered away, flitting from group to group. A smile here, a well-timed laugh there, had the mindless sheep eating from the guy’s hand. As yet, the rumor mill hadn’t spewed anything about the two of them, and Lucky planned to keep it that way. What was he thinking, getting involved with a coworker?
Someone handed Lucky a paper plate that might have had a piece of cake on it. He didn’t check. Instead he watched Bo raising a fork to his mouth and sliding a tiny bite of the confection inside. His tongue snaked out to capture a stray bit of frosting . Oh, baby, I got a place you can lick frosting off of.
In ones and twos the assembled began to leave. Lucky turned to join them until Walter reminded him, “I need to talk to you and Bo.”
Lucky fell back and allowed his coworkers to slowly migrate out of the office, mmmm -ing and hmmm -ing on a sugar high. After the last retreated, only Bo, Lucky, and Walter remained.
“Have a seat,” Walter instructed, helping himself to a huge slab of cake. He settled into his chair, as gingerly as a man of his size could. At six foot six, and approximately three hundred twenty pounds, he towered over Lucky, who often joked about Walter being square, in