“I’m not naïve. Nobody ever told me anything. Shoot me for not thinking the worst of you all.”
He chuckles as he loops his arm through mine, then leads me out to the parking lot, where we continue the conversation.
My mind whirls. “I’ve been doing the books on the illegal side?”
“Yep.”
How the hell did I not know that? Well, probably because I don’t know what supplies are actually necessary for the projects we do. Or what was really purchased or not. Hell, I never bothered to learn because I have no interest in any of it. It isn’t what I wanted to do. I was in art school when my father threatened to cut me off financially if I didn’t switch to a different college and take business courses.
Listening to him was my first mistake. It is why I’ve been trapped here all these years.
“Until we figure out what to do, we will have to carry on with business as usual. The last thing we want is someone thinking they can come in and take over,” Duke says. “But we will not have any conversation about it in there. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He stares at me.
“What?”
“How are you doing? I mean, really. Nelson was shot and killed in front of you. I was shot in front of you. Hell, you were in the house with all the bullets flying. I know this isn’t something you’re used to.”
I cross my arms. “And you are?”
He shrugs. “Not really. I try to avoid shootouts since they can be deadly and all.”
I shove him. “This isn’t something to joke about.”
He grows serious. “You’re right. It’s not. But seeing Nelson killed had to have been hard for you.”
I take a step back and study him. “Are you serious? You think I feel sorrow over his death? The man made my life a living hell. Trust me, I’m fine.” Maybe I should have talked with him as well as Sam last night so he’d know my mind is not on Nelson. It’s on Logan.
We walk back in, and I barely sit down when the bell over our front door dings. In walks a man in a delivery uniform. “Hello, I have a package for Duke Manzia.”
Duke steps forward. “That’s me.”
He takes the package, and the man leaves. Duke carries it to my desk and opens it. He pulls out a box and hands it to me. “Here you are.”
It’s a new phone.
“Sorry about tossing your old phone out the window. I ordered you a new one with your old number, so hopefully, you can import your contacts.”
“Thank you.” I tear open the box and follow the set-up instructions. I plug in the charger while it restarts.
As I wait for it to be ready, I grab the first thing in my inbox and get to work.
The phone buzzes and beeps as everything loads. After dealing with my fifth invoice, I’m out of patience and I grab the phone.
I check my messages, and my stomach flutters when I see two texts from an unknown number. Logan. But then I realize they were from a few days ago, and tears well in my eyes. I lean back and wave my hands in front of my face to dry my eyes. Why did I expect any current messages from him? I told him goodbye, and as far as he knows, I don’t have a phone anymore.
I wonder what he’s doing right now. No, that won’t do me any good. I used to be able to go months without thinking about him. Now, after what happened in that hotel room, I can’t go five minutes, and it’s driving me crazy.
My phone buzzes, and I grab it.
Unknown:Hey, I see you got a new phone.
What the hell?
Me:Who is this?
