Page 10 of The True Garza
“Option one: You play my clingy fake girlfriend that I’m tired of,” he replies. “I will take you to the club enough times to catch the attention of Raffi. I will complain a lot about you to him, that I’m tired of you and feel trapped. So, when I suggest selling you to him to get rid of you, it will not come as a surprise.”
“Option two?”
“You go to the club on your own and catch the interest of Jamal or Raffi, who will put one of the fake ‘millionaires’ to work on you. But with that plan, we will lose a lot of control during the ‘move in’ phase. Option one is safer and offers much more control of the situation. But”—he leans back in his chair—“it all comes down to what you are comfortable with.”
I’d rather not do any of this at all, but I see a play, and I’m going to take advantage of it. “I’m cool with the first plan. You’re pretty enough.” I wink at him. “Being your fake girlfriend sounds like it’ll be fun.”
When Guy scowls, I wink at him, too.
“But tell me,” I direct at Sacha, “would I pass as someone these men would be interested in? You all know I’m thirty-two, right?”
“You are?” He seems surprised by this information.
This pulls a frown from me. “You’ve gotten no details on me?”
“No. LX-BI was supposed to assign someone weeks ago. They only made arrangements last night. We didn’t even get a name until an hour ago.”
“Incompetent,” Guy coughs under his breath.
I ignore him.
Is this the real reason Uncle Walter was so determined for me to come back? To get me on this?
“To answer your question,” Sacha says, “you are overwhelmingly beautiful, with a lot of striking features, and you do not in the least look thirty-two. You are petite, which to most men, like Raffi, will translate as weak—thoughIwill not make the mistake of believing you are. However, I do not have the final say in anything regarding this assignment. My superiors, the Garzas, do.”
“The Garzas?” I echo. “Not Walter Bridge? Damn, you really are cocky.”
Sacha rolls his lips and looks to Guy. What is Guy’s real position here?Whois he? How does he seem to have more authority than Sacha, but, at the same time, it feels like he has no authority at all?
“We’re workingwiththe LX-BI, notforthem,” he tells me firmly. “Why do you think you’re here in secret? The LX-BI has more corrupt agents than good ones. That place needs an overhaul.”
“You’ve got a real hard-on for the BI, don’t you?”
He smirks. “You’ve got no idea.”
In a way, I kind of get why the Bureau wanted me on this. Not because of my aesthetics, but because none of those agents would’ve tolerated these men’s arrogance and shit-talk. Me, on the other hand—I swim like a shark when thrown into a sea of animosity. I’ll fuel that shit because it excites me. TheyknowI’m the only one who would stick to working with these men for the fun of it.
“Your hatred for me issodamn hot,” I tell Guy, flashing him a smile and a wink. “If I weren’t already this one’s fake girlfriend, I’d totally do you. I’d even let you bound me with those suspenders and blindfold me with that bowtie.”
Sacha dips his head to hide a smile.
The door swings open just then. “Hey, sorry I’m—”
We all look to it.
And I freeze.
So does the newcomer.
Him.
Mateo. What’s he doing here? And why is he staring at me now as if he remembers me when, just last night, he glared me down like I was a stranger and a nuisance.
A frown creasing between his brows, he says, “Stacey?”
Oh, right. The fake name I’d given him. “Ah, so youdoremember me?”
He closes the door behind him, a sexy smile sliding onto his face. “Who could forget you?”
