Page 34 of A Dirty Business
I caught the blush before Kelly grabbed her purse. “I need to change clothes. Be back!”
After pouring my coffee, I set the pot back. “You needing some of this?”
Justin chuckled. “God yes. Your friend is, uh, she’s got stamina.”
I gave him a look. “Don’t go there. I love her, but I do not want the details.”
He chuckled again, finding where we kept our mugs and moving so I could pour him the last of the coffee. I nodded to the cupboard. “Sugar there. Creamer in the fridge.”
“Thanks.” He glanced over his shoulder as I moved back to the table and lifted up my laptop once again. “What happened last night? I saw Anthony call you to his office.”
I didn’t need the reminder. “It’s nothing.”
He looked unconvinced.
“I mean it.” I gestured toward Kelly’s room. “You move fast.”
That sheepish look came back over him, and he shuffled, moving around before settling back against the same counter. “I like her. A lot.” He gave me a meaningful look.
“I saw how you looked at her last night. You’re already half-gone on her.”
His eyes got big, and he’d been taking a sip of coffee but half snorted on it. “Jesus. Don’t tell her that, please.”
My phone buzzed again.
I refuse to put his name in my phone:We need to talk.
God. This guy.
Me:BLOCK
I refuse to put his name in my phone:Now.
I blocked him.
I needed to forget meeting him, forget talking to him, forget touching him, forget his kisses. Forget how I felt with my body over his in his vehicle last night. All of it. Done.
The end.
My phone buzzed again, but this time it was myotherboss.
Leo:I need you at your mother’s house.
Those texts were never good.
Leo was standing on the front steps when I got there, and he did not look happy. He’d been smoking a cigarette, but at seeing me, he tossed it on the ground and put it out. He was in plain clothes, wearing an open jacket over jeans and a sweatshirt beneath. Leo was old school. If he wasn’t working, he was at the neighborhood bar having a beer and watching whatever game was on the television. All the years I knew him, I’d never seen him drunk, so I always suspected he sipped one beer the whole time.
Some days, like today apparently, he was here checking on my mom.
I parked and walked over to the sidewalk. “What’s wrong?”
I looked behind him. The door was shut, the curtains drawn closed. I wasn’t hearing yelling or anything behind him.
One of his hands moved inside his jacket pocket, and he indicated the house. “You were here a few days ago?”
I frowned. “Monday. I stopped over. Why?”
“You go through her stash?”
