She’s a woman to be reckoned with and one of my closest allies. Allies? That sounds so impersonal. On many levels she is my closest friend. One of the few people I trust, and loyal to to a fault.
We were in sort of the same boat when we met. Both down and out searching for a reason to survive. Her family’s business had just been burned to the ground, literally. Her father, her mother, and her sister all died in a house fire set by a rival cartel. In one night, she lost everything except the lust for vengeance. Together, we brought the Deltoro cartel back from the dead. Over the last five years we have learned a lot, lost a lot, and harnessed the will to succeed no matter the cost. This is our life. Our purpose, our family.
“How many recruits did we get out of the gauntlet?”
“Two.” I stand beside her and gaze out onto the empty dance floor. It’s early yet. The club isn’t open to the public. Only the bar staff is occupying the room.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I confirm. “They just aren’t making them like they used to.”
“That’s disappointing.” She rakes her gaze over me, her long, sleek, black ponytail falling to the side. “What’s your analysis?”
“One is definitely good for brawn. The other . . .”
“The other?” she pushes.
“The other I’m not sure about yet . . .” I think back to our little encounter in the woods. Tate Donovan is sharp, smart, strong,and hot . . .I dismiss that last intrusive thought immediately. He also has an impressive rap sheet more than a mile long. Assault and battery, armed robbery, possession, distribution, and money laundering. He could just be the kind of guy we need around. “He might have potential for more.”
Stefania nods. She trusts my judgment impeccably.
“Is that one of the newbies?” Stefania points to a guy in blue jeans, a plaid button-up, and cowboy hat who is hanging around the main round bar.
“That’d be him.”
“The potential for more?”
“Yeah.”
She smiles deviously. “Guapo. You didn’t mention that.”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.” I cross my arms.
“So you find him handsome, too.” She puts me on the spot.
I roll my eyes, annoyed. “What does it matter?”
“Something to keep you entertained. A little eye candy never hurt anyone.”
“I don't need any eye candy.”
“You’re right. You need some sweet treats for your pussycat, Virgin Mary.”
I hate it when she calls me that. “My pussycat is just fine. It gets treats all the time.”
“If you say so, Palomita. But one is such a lonely number.”
“Listen, you worry about your pussycat, and I’ll worry about mine.”
“Fair enough. My pussycat is ready for a scratch anyway.”
“And who exactly is doing the scratching this time?”
Stefania is stone silent.
“Marco?” I probe.
“So what if it is.”
