Conflict of Interest

Chapter Forty Six

Carrie

"Hey, Ollie," Clapp was saying happily as I stood there, contrarily miserable, and increasingly so. "What's that, two hundred bucks?"

"Two hundred because Carrie said it first," Oliver reminded him. "But you owe me three because this happens to be the exact day I picked for Grace and Hayden to call off the wedding."

"But you guys both owe me seventy five," Bagley chimed in. "Because you both said Kim would call it off, but Grace did."

"Grace didn't call it off, Bagley, Kim fucked it up. So she called it off with her actions."

"I'm with him. You owe us both, Bagel."

"Of course you're with him, because you both owe me!"

"Majority rule, Bagley, suck it up."

"Okay, Kim, really, who called it off, you or Grace?"

Kim, like me, just stared incredulously back at the three stooges. "Are you guys fucking kidding me?"

"That's seriously fucked up," I agreed. "And Bagley's right, you both owe him seventy five because Grace definitely called it off. Oliver, Clapp owes you a hundred, and Clapp, you're one seventy five in the hole. But you each owe Bagley an additional $2.41 because he just brought you each a venti hot coffee from Starbucks. So you're actually $177.41 in the hole. Oliver, you have a net profit of $22.59, and Bagley, you made one fifty."

"Carrie," Clapp said. "I really fucking hate you."

"I love you, Carrie," Bagley said. "You just made me a hundred and fifty bucks."

"She's wasting her talents in prosecution," Oliver muttered, pulling his wallet.

"Oh," I said. "And fuck you, Clapp, for betting that I'd say it first."

"I wasn't wrong."

"But I expected a little bit of faith in me anyway."

"I always root for the underdog," Clapp said. "That's how I ended up $175.41 in debt."

"One seventy seven."

"Fuck you."

The door swung open then, and I think we all began holding our breath, though I was probably praying harder than anyone that it wasn't Grace, or maybe worse, Jennifer, on the other side.

But it wasn't. It was Special Agent Horrible Timing.

"Hayden," she called, letting herself in. I thought a hello would have sufficed, but whatever. "Oh my God, I just heard. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine too," I answered. "Thanks."

"Carrie," she said as though my presence were the worst news she'd received all day. "I didn't see you there. How are you feeling?"

"You don't care," I dismissed, taking a seat.

"Carrie, don't be a bitch," Kim admonished.

"Oh, but it's so much fun," I cavilled. "So, Beckett, you just heard? I thought the FBI knew everything."

"I really hate you, Carrie, you know that?"

"That's the second time in two minutes that I've heard those words, so I'm not that perturbed."

"Shouldn't you just be doubly perturbed?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"So you're both back to work? Already?"

"Crime doesn't stop because Carrie gets her lungs drained," Kim said. "So after the meetings with the horrible shrink, yeah, pretty much."

"Oh, God," I thought out loud. "That reminds me."