Page 31 of Cozen

Sargon’s gaze cut back to Jett in an instant. “What in the hell does that mean?”

“One is Camorra based, one is Cosa Nostra based. Both are based here in the state, and most business is done in the city. One controls Queens, Brooklyn, and in there. The other manages Manhattan—across the bridge, basically. There is no buffer zone between them and I, should I take the deal. We are all in very close quarters.”

“I advise you not to take it,” Sargon settled on saying.

Because that would be the smart choice.

Jett sighed heavily. “I have to take at least one.”

“And what, hope the other side doesn’t find out?”

“Essentially.”

“Who is the one playing dangerous games now, Jett?”

His boss didn’t answer because his attention was now captured by something else entirely. Sargon chanced a look over his shoulder to see what it was that had Jett so moved he was willing to drop an entire conversation.

A woman, apparently.

A very beautiful woman.

At least five foot nine, the russet brunette with the same shade eyes simpered a smile. Her bow-shaped lips curved at the edges as she entered the private dining area.

First, Sargon noticed the perfect cupid’s bow on her top lip, and then the way her dainty features set off the rest of her face. High cheekbones, and perfectly arched brows. She swayed a little when she walked—some women learned how to do that, and others were just born with the ability to look sensual when they moved.

This woman was clearly in the latter group.

Her sway drew his gaze down over her body—a trim waist, hips with enough curve to grab onto, and legs for days. All covered by a tight, black bodycon dress. The silver shoes, ones that matched the color of the serving plate in her hand, set the entire ensemble off for her.

It was not the first time Sargon had seen the girls in the restaurant wearing their uniform. It was the first time Sargon had seen this woman wearing it, and she looked far better than any of them, frankly.

To him, anyway.

Sargon was not the type to be silenced by a woman, or the look of her. He was not a boy who got his cock tied up over a woman.

Shit.

He might enjoy letting this one do it to him, though.

“Where is Rowena?” Jett asked.

The woman’s gaze lingered on Sargon’s face for a moment, and then jumped back to Jett. Her voice sounded like a melody when she spoke. “Rowena and Chase had a bit of a falling out. I am here to serve you today, sir.”

“Jett.”

The woman smiled. “I know your name. I thought it appropriate to address you respectfully unless you wished for me to do differently.”

Jett smiled widely—clearly pleased with the woman. “Call me Jett.”

“Sure, Jett.”

Jett cocked a brow. “And what’s your name?”

“Cozen, but you may address me with Zen, if you prefer. I don’t mind either.”

“Cozen,” Sargon said.

All eyes drifted in his direction. He couldn’t help himself but to look up at the woman. For the first time since she had walked into the room and looked at him, her eyes were back on his face. Piercing within their russet pools. Pinning him in place.