Page 27 of The Smoke Hour

“Hi. I’m here to see Mr. Socco.”

He closed the door without speaking, and I lifted my hand to bang on the door again.

“Rude ass! He’s got some damn nerves shutting the door in my face like that. I ought to kick his—”

The door jerked open in the middle of my tirade as I banged on it. Wearing a frown, Smoke stood on the other side, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind.

“Yo! Chill with all that.”

“Tell your henchman to learn some manners. I know his mama taught him better!” I snapped at Smoke and evil-eyed the man who stood directly behind him.

“Sam, please apologize to the lady,” Smoke demanded but kept his gaze trained on me.

Smoke wore a smug expression and had his lips tilted upward as Sam stated, “My apologies, ma’am. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

“No one comes back here uninvited, but Sam usually has a heads up about any potential visitors before they arrive,” Smoke explained and then leaned closer to me. “He’s not aware of our little arrangement,” he whispered.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Sam behind Smoke’s shoulders.

“You get a pass this time, but let that be the last time,” I stated heatedly.

Smoke pulled the door open and stepped back to allow me entrance into his office. When I stepped inside, I saw five other men sitting in the seating area. All of them had some form of whiskey or vodka, and three of the five smoked cigars.

“What’s this, Smoke?” I asked, eyeing the men.

“We were just finishing business negotiations, love. Weren’t we, gentlemen?” he asked as he spoke to the room at large.

The men all agreed and stood. Some put their cigars out, while others tossed back the last of their drinks, which seemed to have been freshly poured.

“Head back to the back, Fiya. I’ll be there shortly.”

I headed back to his game room, but not before I heard one of the men ask, “Who’s that, Smoke? She’s a badass bitch.”

I was prepared to check him about that slick ass mouth of his, but by the time I turned around, I heard him choking. Smoke had his hand around the man’s neck and was choking the shit out of him. The man was slowly dropping to the ground, but Smoke had a fierce grip.

“The fuck I tell you ’bout calling bitches out their name, Kut?”

The man tried to say something, but it was indecipherable. Before I could say anything or make another move, Smoke spoke without turning around.

“Get your little ass in the room and close the door, sweets.”

The command in his voice burned in me like an aphrodisiac.

I immediately obeyed him and took a seat at the card table. Almost ten minutes passed before Smoke stepped into the room. He looked as calm and cool as he had the other night. There was nothing flustered about him that indicated he’d had a conflict with the man in his office.

“You good?” I asked as he headed to the bar.

“Yeah. You okay?”

“Uhm… yeah. What about—”

“That shit’s been taken care of,” he mumbled and poured himself a glass of bourbon. “Whatchu drinking?”

“Let me get a rum and Coke. Are all your friends rude and disrespectful?” I asked as he poured my drink.

As he prepared my drink, his head was bowed. I noticed that he had loosened his necktie and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt to his elbows.

“Let me tell you something, sweets. First, I don’t hang with anyone. Second, those weren’t my friends. They were business constituents.”

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