Page 21 of Gang of Roses: Rebel

“That’s what you hired me for.”

Truthfully, I didn’t know shit about stocks, mutual funds, or any of that Wall Street talk. That’s why I’d hired Sarah in the first place. She came highly recommended, had an impressive résumé, and always seemed to know exactly what she was doing. Every meeting left me feeling more confident that I was getting closer to walking away from this life for good.

“So,” she asked, “any big plans this weekend?”

I shrugged. “Same old shit. Work.”

She laughed. “You work too much.”

“I’ve got goals.”

“I know you do,” she replied. “And we’re getting closer every day.”

I smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear. “I’ll check in with you again next week,” she said.

“I’ll be here.”

We shared one last smile before ending the call. I looked up as Crow’s receptionist strolled into the office holding a mug. She scanned the room before her eyes landed on me.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in here... Rubbel.”

I tapped the REBEL tattoo on my neck.

“The name is Rebel, hoe. Read it again.”

“My apologies... Rebel.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

From the way she was looking, she was either fucking Crow, or she used to. Either way, it wasn’t hard to read between the lines. Since I never passed up an opportunity to be petty, I kicked my feet up on his desk like I owned the damn place.

“Where’s Crow?” she asked. “I wanted to bring him his morning coffee and order his breakfast.”

I took another bite of my bacon before answering. “Too late,” I said with a smug grin. “He brought our breakfast.”

Her smile faltered as she lifted the coffee mug a little higher.

“Well, I brought him his coffee.”

I glanced at the cup in her hand and shrugged.

“That’s a shame. He likes mocha.”

Kerri looked down at the coffee for a second before her eyes found mine again. The fake smile she’d walked in with was hanging on by a thread, and I had to fight not to laugh. Messing with her was way more entertaining than I expected. Just then, Crow finally strolled in from the back. One look at the two of us, and he already knew something was off. His gaze landed on his receptionist.

“Everything good, Kerri?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” She held out the coffee with a bright smile. “Here you go. I made it just the way you like it.”

Judging by the way she looked at me instead of him when she said it, that comment wasn’t for Crow. It was for me. He grabbed the cup with a nod. Then he took a sip, then frowned at the cup in his hand.

“Kerri... this ain’t mocha.”

Her smile faltered.

“I—I thought you wanted vanilla today.”

Crow shook his head. “Nah. I only drink mocha.”