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Dex laughs, slapping me on the back. “No one is that stupid. You may wear a suit now, but underneath your designer clothes, you’re still Z the cleaner and believe me, no one has forgotten how you can make someone disappear without a trace.”
“That’s good. Hopefully, that’ll keep all of my guests in line once we open The Rooftop.”
“Let’s go find our women. The DJ is about to start playing dance music and I want the first dance.”
Our women. A year ago, Dex and I had rung in the new year watching the New Year’s Eve special on the TV in his cramped room of the shitty motel we’d been forced to move into when Katja had booted us out of The Whitney. Now, one short year later, we are back on top, and happier than ever.
I can’t wait to see what the next year will bring.
The End
