Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Before I could decide what to do, a large hand clapped me on the shoulder. “Eric, my man.”
I turned my head to see Richie beside me. “Mr. Dalton.”
“Come on, call me Richie. Everyone else does. Let’s you and I get a drink.”
I swallowed hard. Was Tori at the bar?
I wanted to see Tori more than anything, but I didn’t want her to say anything in front of Richie to give away that we knew each other. I kicked myself for not reminding her to act normal and not even say anything to Reed or Paige because I didn’t know if they were also involved. I should have warned her.
Damn! This whole thing could spin out of control, and I needed to rein it back in before it did.
Fuck.
Our lives depended on it. Tori’s and mine.
“Sure, a bourbon would do me some good. Damn chilly out there tonight,” I said, shaking my shoulders to fleck off the drops of rain from my jacket.
Richie chuckled and led the way to the bar. “You know, in Southern California, it only rains twice a year. You must be my lucky charm.”
I nodded and craned around to give the stage one last glance. “You into all that Catwoman shit?”
Richie shook his head. “Nah. Not my game. I prefer to be the one with the whip if you get my meanin’.”
I grimaced when he looked away.
We sat at the bar, and Richie ordered for both of us. A power play. Thinly veiled at best. Something was pissing him off. He had an edgy vibe to him, and it was making me damn nervous. Luckily, Tori wasn’t anywhere in sight. I figured she either didn’t show up for work or maybe it was her day off. She didn’t leave a time with her lipstick message.
A short, curvy blonde was on duty and served the drinks neat and quick, with a sultry smile for both of us before she ran off to tend the other customers. I took a sip and watched Richie out of the corner of my eye as he scratched his face.
“What’s on your mind?” I finally ventured to ask, sensing he wasn’t going to initiate.
He turned to me, laying his hands out on the bar, ignoring the drink he’d ordered minutes before. “You impressed me last night, Starr.”
“Oh, yeah?”
His tone was dangerous. Sharp. Something was wrong.
“Yeah, but you worry me, too.”
I froze in place, not daring to move a muscle. My breath stilled as I fought to keep my eyes from going wide.
“Nobody knows you. I ran your name around some of my connections. You’re a ghost, man.”
I played it off with a light chuckle. “Just the way I like it.”
He narrowed his eyes. Damn it, that was a missed step. Dalton fisted his left hand into a ball.
“I guess what doesn’t sit well is where you came from. You zeroed in on me like one of those missiles in your warehouse. So, I’m a smart man. And I gotta ask myself, why? Why me? Why now?”
“Richie, I—”
He unballed his fist and held up his hand, cutting me off without a word. “Let me tell you what I think. About a year ago, my Uncle Paul got popped by the feds out in Vegas. I won’t get into it, but he walked right into a setup. They were trying to get to the whole family.”
“You think I’m working with the feds?” I hissed, hoping the heat in my voice was enough to throw him off before he crossed a line we couldn’t come back from.
Richie swiveled his fat ass onto his stool until he faced me. “What I’m sayin’, Starr, is that the deal you are offering sounds too fucking good to be true.”
Every nerve in my body was pulled tight, like guitar strings a split second away from snapping. I forced myself to lean back, suck in a breath, and shrug. “I didn't mean to come off all hot shit. But, like I explained to you, I'm in a tight jam here and my ass is on the line. If I don't move this inventory, I'm fucked. But, hey, if you want out, I’ll go to my next buyer.”
Richie considered me for a minute. “Who is it?”
“All due respect, but I’m not gonna disclose that information. I’m a lot of things, but a name-dropper ain’t one of them. Look, Dalton, I like you. You’re a straight shooter. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give you a day to think about it. For now, let’s dial things way the fuck back and just have a good time. I don’t know about you, but I could use a night off from all the bullshit.”
My heart was damn near ready to shoot out of my chest as seconds spanned out between us like lifetimes. Finally, Richie put me out of my misery and offered a half-cocked grin.