CHAPTER 22
WHEN BLACK SAID the next six months would be hard, he hadn’t been kidding. If it wasn’t for the obscene amount of cash he’d promised to pay me at the end of it, I’d have jacked it all in during the first week.
Hell, even then there were some days when Black nearly got his two hundred grand stuffed up his sanctimonious American backside while I caught the next flight home.
But I’ll start at the beginning. Day one was all right. My first ride on a plane, in first class no less.
“I could get used to this,” I said, settling into the plush leather seat.
“The novelty soon wears off.” Black had his laptop open before the seat belt light blinked out.
I hoped that was true, because after the initial thrill of take-off, I fell asleep, revelling in a bed far more comfortable than my
