I stormed through the hallways of the house in Birmingham. Michael scurried behind me, notepad in hand.
"I want every man gone except Grubs and the other bodyguards," I told him. "Everybody else is far too trigger happy. We play this right, Michael, we might be able to con the Peaky Blinders out of half their business. Squash them into insignificance." The thought filled me with glee. I tried to ignore the accompanying twinge of sadness.
"Miss Kimber..."
"What?" I snapped around.
Michael hesitated. "It can't have been easy seeing him again. After the ordeal you went through."
I swallowed. "Your point?"
He capped his pen. "If you need to talk, I'm here."
I blinked. The offer was kind. But I still had reservations when it came to Michael. When it came to trusting him — to trusting anyone.
"I'll bear that in mind if I need to confirm an account transaction." I began my frantic pace once more. "And make sure we have lots of whisky. Cigarettes, too. Unfiltered. We want him to feel psychologically safe. Lower his guard."
"Great idea. Perhaps you might want to get some sleep before the meeting?" Michael suggested.
"I don't need sleep." It was true. I'd barely slept all night, or the night before that. Since seeing Tommy again, it was as though I'd been hot-wired. I'd been more productive in the last two days than in the two weeks before that.
I'd braved the duffel bag of clothes from my time with the Shelby's to find the shirt I was wearing. Plum coloured and slightly sheer. It had been a favourite of Tommy's once. I was counting on him remembering the fact.
"I can have Doctor Roland prescribe you something."
"Michael, you're here to handle my business, not my health."
"Right you are, Miss."
As Michael got to work, I geared myself up to make Thomas Shelby's life a living hell.
And the best part was, he would think it's all his idea.
***
"Thomas." I smiled sweetly as the bodyguards escorted him in. "You made it."
"Is the security really necessary?" He asked. "We've been in closer proximity than this."
My smile turned cold. "And you ended up fucking me over, in more ways than one. I won't let that happen again."
"Won't let it happen both ways?" He asked, his signature Birmingham drawl. "Or just the one?"
"You must miss me pressing a gun to your neck."
"Not sure how I survived so long without it before you came along."
I hated to admit, but he looked good. Dressed in his black suit, the one he saved for important business. A cotton shirt I'd buttoned for him on more mornings than I could count, undone again in the early hours of the morning. His serpentine eyes were captivating as they'd always been.
Even when I wanted him dead, I couldn't deny the physical attraction.
I snapped open a cigarette holder, the sound and movement jolting me back to myself. "Release him," I told Grubs. "Let the man drink and smoke. Shoot if he comes within three feet of me."
Tommy reached for a cigarette. "Not shooting your own men anymore, Kimber?"
"Not if I can avoid wasting the bullets." I picked up a silver pistol from the end table beside me. I turned it over, glinting in the light. "Then again, I just might get bored."
Tommy considered me for a moment as he drew on his cigarette. "Planning on spending all day threatening to kill me, or shall we get down to business?"
I loaded a bullet into the chamber before placing the gun down again. Tommy's eyes flickered to it, betraying just a hint of nerves. I smiled. "With pleasure."
"Cheltenham," he said. "Ten percent. Name your price."
I poured a glass of whisky and sipped. "Oh, you're good, Shelby. You're very good."
He raised his eyebrows.
"Pretending to be interested in Warwick, when really you wanted Cheltenham. Feigning interest seems to be your style."
"Or perhaps I wanted Cheltenham all along, opened with Warwick, never suggested otherwise, and yet you refuse to see facts unless they are painfully spelled out for you," he countered.
I set my jaw. "You pretended. You lied."
"No, Kimber. I'd just expect you to piece together the truth without needing your hand held through it."
Anger flared in the pit of my stomach. We weren't talking about racing grounds. "I expect people to say what they mean. Why bring up Warwick at all?"
"Maybe because a share of Warwick is better than nothing. Maybe I only got greedy for Cheltenham once the conversation had already begun." He stared me down.
"Or maybe you're a cold, calculated man."
"I'm not denying the fact." Tommy's fingers clenched around his whisky glass. "But sometimes even the coldest man simply wants a share of Cheltenham."
I stayed silent for a moment. I took a breath, closed my eyes. I refused to let him still have such a hold over me. I refused to let him think he'd won.
"I expected 100% of your business for Warwick," I said. "How will you ever afford my price for Cheltenham?"
"That's why it's called a negotiation, Kimber. Last long enough in the business world, and you just might figure that out for yourself."
"Of course. Silly little me. No clue how any of this works." I leaned back in my seat. "Explain it to me please, Mr Shelby. And make sure to use very simple words so I might understand."
The way he looked at me, I wouldn't be surprised if he was desperate to get me back in handcuffs, make me really pay for it this time.
"If you're going to act like a child, this meeting is over." He stood to his feet. "I'll have John come to negotiate. Or maybe Finn. He's closer to your level of maturity."
No. "I'd say you're closer matched, actually, if you're going to run from this like a coward."
"I don't run, Kimber. I walk away."
And he did just that, buttoning his coat as he left the room.
I sat for a moment, swirling my glass in my hand. Not the outcome I'd hoped for. But clearly I'd hit a sore spot.
And it would all be worth it when I took him down for good.