Page 22 of Dirty Pool

Gabbie tore off a piece of whole wheat bread, and smeared a bit of hummus on the top before popping it into her mouth.

“Shit, I knew I recognized that last name,” Michel said, his voice coming closer to her now. Silence echoed his statement before he quickly added, “No, no. I’m not going to find myself in any more shit, thanks.” Footsteps followed Michel’s words, and then an annoyed, “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Wrong place—I was just answering your people who wanted to cop, Sal, so who’s problem is this really, anyway?”

And then just before he came back to the doorway, she heard him say, “So I stepped on someone’s toes, fine. I’ll make sure next time, I don’t do that. What do you want from me right now?” Another stretch of silence answered that question before Michel muttered, “All right, I’ll be there and we can figure it out.”

Gabbie swallowed her bite of food as Michel came back to stand in the doorway. Only now, he had his clothes in one hand, and his phone in the other. She knew it then, without him needing to tell her, that he wasn’t going to be staying with her for much longer.

Shame, really.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Michel let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, something’s wrong. Casey, huh?”

She arched a brow. “Casey, aye.”

“I’m not familiar with all the ins and outs of the families in Detroit that … control the cities and outer limits, you know?”

“You should learn then, Michel.”

“Apparently.” He scrubbed a hand down his jaw, glancing away as he asked, “You told me your father’s name last night … it just got mentioned again.”

Gabbie almost grinned. “Head of the family—the boss.”

Michel nodded. “My father, too, but in New York. Marcello.”

She blinked, stunned.

Everyone knew the Marcellos. Anyone who was familiar with the criminal world, anyway.

Michel’s gaze drifted back to her, but now, he just looked amused. “Wrong place, wrong time last night, that’s all. I have to go—someone’s in a fit, and I need to handle it before they handle me.”

Selling on someone else’s territory could do that. Gabbie didn’t say it out loud, though. She doubted Michel needed the reminder seeing as how he looked like he knew exactly the kind of shit he’d stepped in now.

“I’d like to see you again,” she said.

She wasn’t one to be forward.

Right now?

After last night?

And this morning?

Hell, yeah.

Michel smirked. “Would you?”

“Why not?”

“Not sure it’d be smart, is all.”

Gabbie made a face. “Who said anything about being smart? My phone is on the table—plug your number in, and text yourself from it so I have yours, too.”

She didn’t offer it like a suggestion. A demand. Michel chuckled as he did what she said. They’d figure out the details another time. That’s what later was all about, right?

• • •

Gabbie’s morning routine went on as normal once Michel was gone. She even managed to clean up the kitchen before she had to check her sugars again after eating. She was considering doing a quick warm-up exercise that would get her prepped for the gym, so she didn’t have to bother with one when she got there later in the day, but the ringing cell phone in her bag stopped her from rolling the yoga mat out.