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I took her story with a grain of salt. Calli often saw any story with her sister in it as being different than it really was.
“Oh!” She leaned over the table as she let her mouth run. “You know I caught him once watching her change in the bathroom.” She shuddered. “He claimed it was an emergency and he needed her, but what guy with a job like his would go into the women’s room to look for her instead of getting someone to fetch her or call her?”
“Creep.” I shook my head in disgust but dismissed the story. More than likely, he was looking for her and Calli walked in. Situations without context are often misunderstood in a negative way.
“Mm, at least it’s not me he’s after.”
“Yes, I’m not ready to go to jail.”
“I love how protective you are of me.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
“You’re too sweet to have anyone hurt you.”
She cooed, “Why can’t all men be like you?”
“Because we’re a rare breed.” I quickly kissed her fingers then bumped her leg under the table with a wink. I glanced at my watch and saw I had to leave. “Sorry, Calli, gotta go.”
“Where you off to?”
“I promised a friend I’d say hello before he heads home.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“As will I.” I dropped a ten on the table for a tip and rushed off. Just as I was leaving the lobby, I caught sight of Grim and his right-hand man, Jesse, discussing something. Grim pulled his gun, and his entire face morphed into that monster expression I’d seen before. I wasted no time slipping through the main doors and out onto the Strip. Christ, he was scary.
The mid-morning heat was on full blast, and I was pleased I’d chosen a t-shirt and shorts versus my normal pants and dress shirt. I didn’t make enough money to buy expensive suits like Cameron or the Gates did. I envied them their suits; they were well ventilated and made for the climate here. Vegas sure wouldn’t be my number one place to set down roots. I was here because I had a job to do.
I answered my phone. “Gable.”
“Calli said you were out this morning?” Cameron questioned.
“I am.”
“Who’s your friend you are meeting?” He waited, and I didn’t answer. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably best not, at least until we’re in person.” I knew better than to discuss things on the phone.
“Don’t be too long. I need you back here.”
“I won’t.” I hung up as I spotted the very man I’d come to see. I waited for him to get close. He looked like any other businessman on the street, cheap suit, crappy briefcase, probably just downed some gas station coffee before he had to meet a client. He was the kind of lawyer who had clients who could barely scratch up enough money to pay his fee, and they’d no doubt wind up in jail because they put their life in the hands of a guy whose own life hung by a thread.
“Morey Ines?” I held out my hand, and he looked up at me as he tried to place my face.
“Yes. You are…?”
“I’m the guy who’s got an offer that you’re gonna want to hear.”
“Not interested.” He moved around me.
“WestPoint Industries.” I called out the name of the company that had a suit against him for misrepresentation. He’d been out of his league on that case and had pulled some stupid moves. He could lose his practice and probably do jail time. He stopped and slowly turned to face me. “Give me twenty to hear out my offer, and if you’re not interested, fine. It’ll be the last you’ll see of me.”
He made a show of looking at his watch, but I knew I had him. He knew he needed a miracle, and I might just hold out some hope.
“Shall we?” I pointed to the diner next to us, and he marched inside.
His face was stone by the time I explained my idea. I knew his pea-sized brain was sifting through the little bit of the law he actually knew as he tried to look at it from all angles.
“I don’t even know,” he lowered his voice, “who that person is.”
