Page 39 of Pretty Lies

“The guy always pays. Never any trouble. It’ll be fine if you don’t want to come.”

“Okay.” Jennika sighed and gave Della a pout before she grinned with a gaze that darted to the man behind them. “So, I can’t play with him later, then?”

A hot shot of something scored straight through Della’s gut. She knew exactly what it was—that possessive streak of hers couldn’t be contained. Not that she had any reason to be feeling something like that. Shit, she hadn’t even felt that way in the car earlier.

“No,” Della said, the word clipped.

If her friend noticed, Jennika didn’t say.

Thankfully.

“It’s cool,” Jennika said, taking a step forward in her black, bodycon dress with matching black pumps that showed off red soles with every step she took toward the receptionist’s desk, “because he’s too busy looking at you, anyway.”

What?

Della glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Cory’s gaze met hers where he still stood at the elevators. He tipped his chin, as though he were silently asking what’s up and flashed those white teeth of his in a smile.

He was her bodyguard. Right? Wasn’t he supposed to watch her?

But … like that?

“Dr. Kohoney is available to you ladies whenever you’re ready,” the receptionist chirped with a quietness that spoke of her fear. Well, Della understood why. The last time they were here, she left the woman’s boss unconscious and bleeding on his desk. That’s what happened when someone came up thirty-thousand short on their loan payment.

Jennika hadn’t even made it to the woman’s desk. She changed her direction to head for the hallway leading deeper into the office with a wink and grin back at Della. She followed her friend even though it should have been her leading the front. Behind her, Cory walked at a snail’s pace but didn’t say a thing. She had to keep checking just to make sure he was coming along.

Della wished she could say she was surprised to find the good doctor already had stacks of cash sitting on the desk in neat piles, ready for Jennika to pick up with a whistle that cut through her stark red lips.

Della stayed just beyond the private office’s door. “Count it.”

Jennika glanced her way. “Yeah?”

She only stared at the doctor who sat behind his desk, sweating a little too much for her liking. The soles of Cory’s leather shoes—she noticed he’d not worn his usual combat boots today; maybe he thought they’d be walking a lot—squeaked on his last step directly behind her. She didn’t turn around; didn’t want to acknowledge him. He wasn’t there to scare those who owed her father; that’s what she was there to do.

She didn’t want people getting it confused.

“Yeah, count it,” she confirmed.

The doctor—a one, Jeffery Kohoney—desperately needed to keep his secret life hidden from his current wife that was dragging him through divorce courts after learning of his multiple affairs. Shit, the woman hadn’t even scratched the surface yet of what her husband had done.

“It’s all there,” the doctor said, coughing.

Della tipped her head to the side. “You said that last month. You were four thousand short, then, too, which tipped you just beyond thirty-k short on your interest overall.”

“I caught it all up. And the interest you wanted.” His hands rose higher, palms up. “I swear.”

“But can you keep it up?”

That was the real question.

The man swallowed hard.

Della only smiled.

Letting her purse hang from her wrist, she pulled out the switchblade she always kept close at hand to fiddle with while Jennika did the counting. The silence in the room seemed to grow and swell, reminding her of every single reason why she enjoyed doing what she did. While she had the chance to check, she found Cory admiring the framework on a piece of artwork next to the door in the hallway. He glanced her way, that eyebrow of his darting up before he quickly went back to his … whatever he was doing.

Hey, he’d not stepped in.

Didn’t say a thing.