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“That must be Corbett,” Maggie said. She handed Naomi what she had in her hands, and as she and Raven took it out to the table, Maggie skipped out to answer the door. Raven smiled and shook her head. Pregnancy hormones were working their magic on her friend.
“Corbett?” Naomi asked Raven. “That’s an unusual name. His last name wouldn’t be Lindstrom, would it?”
“Yes, actually,” Raven told her. “Do you and Corbett know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” the woman said as Maggie came back into the room with Corbett in tow.
He was dressed casually in jeans and a black racing T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. Raven noticed that with his haircut and casual clothes, he looked a lot “cuter” than she had realized before.
She looked at Naomi, who didn’t look impressed in the least. Corbett stared back at the woman with what could only be described as an ornery grin. There was definitely something up between these two. It would be interesting to find out what.
Just as Maggie started to introduce them, Corbett said, “Naomi Ward, public defender extraordinaire. How delightful to see you again.” Then he turned to Maggie and asked, “Are we having steak?”
Maggie gave him and Naomi both a funny look and said, “Um… yes.”
“Good,” he said, his grin broadening. “That will give Miss Ward something other than my ass to chew on. Hello, Raven. Excuse me, ladies.”
With that, he made his way over to the group of men. Naomi watched after him with a look of disdain, and Maggie with confusion. Raven was amused by whatever was going on. That and the fact that poor Flynn still hadn’t taken his eyes off of the lovely newcomer.
The doorbell rang again, and this time Raven went to get it. It was Jake and the curly-haired blonde from the night of Ridge’s party after the MMA match. Raven smiled to herself and applauded the woman on her good work.
“Hi, Raven,” Jake greeted her. “This is my friend Hayley.”
Raven said hello to them both, noticing how nice Jake looked in blue jeans and a blue T-shirt. While he and Raven chatted, his “friend” gazed at him with an air of hero worship.
Brownsville, Texas
Wednesday Evening
“Enrique, Pablo!”Vincent summoned as he and the much cheaper version of Marcella entered the kitchen. Pablo appeared first, a stunned look crossing his face when he saw the Boss and Marcella. Enrique, strolling in casually behind him, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the big blonde man and the hooker standing in the kitchen. He fumbled to get his gun out of the waistband of his boxers where it was stored. When he finally got it out, he pointed it at them.
“What the hell are you doing?” Pablo yelled at him.
“Me? Who the fuck are you letting in here? The Boss is going to fucking kill you.”
Vincent rolled his eyes, Marcella laughed, and Pablo said, “You fucking idiot. That is the Boss.”
Still holding the gun, Enrique looked again. He took a step closer, and when he did, Vincent said, “Put the gun away, numb nuts, before I bitch-slap you again.”
“Boss?” Enrique asked.
“Yes, you fucking moron. Put the gun away before you shoot off your own balls. That is, if you have any,” he added.
Enrique did as he was told, finally. “I’m sorry, Boss. You don’t look like you.”
“That’s the point,” Vincent told him. Then looking at Pablo, he said, “Where is the rest of the crew?”
“They’re in the living room,” Pablo replied. “I’ll get them.”
“No,” Vincent said, stopping him. “I’ll go to them.”
Pablo led Marcella and Vincent to the living room. There were about fifteen of them there, sitting on the nice furniture, eating, drinking, smoking, and playing video games on the eighty-inch plasma screen television. There were empty pizza boxes and beer bottles all over the room.
Vincent stood looking at the scene before him before shouting, “Listen up!”
The men, or boys as some of them still were, stopped what they were doing. They looked at him with disinterest before fixing their gazes on Marcella. She took a step behind Vincent.
“It’s the Boss, you dimwits,” Enrique said.
