Page 8 of Trick or Tease

“If you want to be one of the big boys, you need to act like it. But don’t worry, you’ll get a hefty bonus from this one.”

Show me the money.

“My paralegals worked really hard on this. What about them?”

“What about them?”

“Shouldn’t they get something?”

“Feel free to give them some of your bonus. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting. Bring me a client and we’ll talk about your future.”

3

SABRINA

Ishifted in the back seat of Billy’s beat-up Ford, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t involve my tailbone and a spring. The truck had seen better days. I was pretty sure it was older than our twenty-six years on this earth.

“You sure this thing’s gonna make it?” I asked, patting the cracked vinyl seat.

“She’s gotten us this far,” Billy said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Besides, can you think of a better way to make an entrance in the big city than rolling up in authentic farm transportation?”

“You could have at least swept the straw out of the bed,” I muttered. “We’ve been blowing straw the last sixty miles. We look like hillbillies.”

He grinned at me. “Grab me some straw to chew on. I want to make sure I look the part.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Lucy unwrapped another sandwich from the cooler she’d packed and handed it back to me. Turkey and Swiss on homemade bread, with that honey mustard she made from scratch. My stomach had been too twisted up with nerves to eat much at breakfast, but the smell made me realize I was starving.

“Thanks,” I said after taking a bite. “God, you’re going to make some lucky guy a great wife someday.”

Billy’s ears went red, and Lucy leaned into him playfully. “Smooth, Sabrina. Real smooth.”

The radio crackled with some classic rock station, scratchy in the old speakers. The truck did have a cassette player but who had cassettes?

Sabrina reached out to push the button to scan for another station.

“Hey!” Billy complained.

But his protest died when Johnny Cash’s voice filled the truck. That was a song we could all get behind. Ring of Fire felt appropriate, considering where we were headed.

Billy drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. I ate my sandwich and stared out the window. We’d been driving for about four hours. The landscape had slowly shifted from rolling farmland to suburbs to whatever you called the maze of highways and overpasses we were navigating now.

I pressed my face to the window, watching the endless stream of cars and towering buildings getting closer. The skyline looked intimidating. It was all glass and steel. Buildings competing for dominance. It felt like a dick-measuring contest that had gotten out of control.

“Who would choose to live stacked on top of each other like that?” I asked.

“Greedy people,” Billy said simply. “Lots and lots of money in that city.”

“Broke and happy is better than rich and miserable,” I said.

“Don’t tell that to Garrett,” Lucy said, grinning.

The GPS on her phone kept barking directions in that soulless robot voice, leading us deeper into the concrete jungle. The traffic was wall to wall. There were more cars in one block than we’d see in Greenleaf in a week. Maybe a month. Horns honked constantly, like some kind of urban symphony of impatience.

“Are you sure he’s going to be okay with us just showing up?” I asked.

I was suddenly very nervous. We were crashing Garrett’s little party. The guy wasn’t known for being Mr. Congeniality. I shouldn’t really care what he thinks, but it was impossible not to.