Page 96 of Colt

He waited a beat before muttering, “We’ll have to give them access, or Stone will be suspicious. At least we can control what information goes out.”

“That’s what I thought,” I agreed. “Is Robert still out tonight?”

“Yeah. He has a meeting, then he’s arranged to see one of his women. He won’t return until tomorrow.”

I rolled my eyes. “Poor girl. Hope he’s compensating her well.” I shrugged. “So, tonight’s the night?”

“Tonight’s the night. Make the call.”

My lips pursed. “Okay Brett. I’ll make the call.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Colt

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Atlas boomed. “Kyle’s turned to the dark side. Mauricio’s fucked.”

“It’s for TV,” Cash interjected. “Andy probably asked her to play it up for ratings. Kyle and her man are fine. It’s all for show.”

Atlas shrugged. “Don’t care if she’s turned gay. I’d still let her sip from my Coke can.” He lifted his hip from the couch in a circling motion.

Bowie barked a laugh. “If Kyle’s really into women now, that’s doubtful.”

The SAA dropped his ass and puffed his chest out. “I’ll put her on my ‘shouldn’t but would’ list. That way, she’d have no choice. Every fucker knows those lists are sacred.”

“What about Vanderpump?” Breaker inquired. “Thought she was on your list?”

“I got eight bitches on there,” Atlas explained. “Kyle will be number nine.” He brought a hand up to tap his lip thoughtfully. “I’ll put the country singer girlfriend on there too. Want Kyle to be comfortable with the whole scene.” He jerked a decisive nod. “There you go. There’s my ten. My list is officially filled.”

“Go ahead and put Kyle on your list, honey,” a voice floated over from the bar. “I’ll put Mauricio on mine. He’s handsome as hell and as rich as the devil with his successful real estate business.”

Atlas froze.

A roar of laughter went up.

I grinned, scrolling through my phone.

“Who’s on your list, Soph?” Cash called over.

Sophie turned on the bar stool, her pregnant belly protruding. “Well, Mauricio now,” she began before beginning to reel names off. “Gerard Butler, Idris Elba, Jensen Ackles, Shemar Moore, Jamie Frazer, John Wick, Clooney—”

“Nice choice,” Layla added. “Clooney’s a classic. He’ll never go out of style.”

Bowie narrowed his eyes at his wife.

Sophie nodded her agreement before continuing. “Jimmy Garoppolo, Jacob, the werewolf from Twilight, and in my number one spot,Massimo Torricelli.”

Layla smirked and fanned her face.

“Doe!” Bowie barked, obviously pissed.

Atlas’s head reared back. “Who the fuck’s Massimo Torti—fuckin’—whatever? I’ll kick his ass.”

I barked a laugh, eyes still on my cell. “It’s the dude from the 365 Days movie. His real name’s Michele Morrone.”

“Stop!” Sophie held a hand up. “I don’t want to fuck Michele Morrone. I wanna fuck the character, the Mafia Don.” Her eyes turned dreamy. “He’s hotter than a solar flare.”

Atlas’s face turned purple. I was sure I could see steam coming from his ears.

---