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“Food is very important,” Dexter said in a serious tone just as he found enough clean plates for all of them. “If you’ve got a problem, you can leave.”
“You don’t have to be an asshole about it,” Noah muttered under his breath.
“Language,” Mykie snapped as she got up to help Dexter.
“I can swear if I want to,” Noah insisted.
“Not under this roof you can’t,” Mykie reprimanded.
“You don’t live here, Mykie. You can’t just make up rules,” Noah said incredulously.
Noah was right. Mykie didn’t live with Dexter, and she had no right to demand for Noah to stop swearing. However, that wouldn’t stop her from continuing to mother him, especially with how weak his protests were when she did.
“It’ll goes over much easier if you just go along with whatever she says,” Dexter mock-whispered behind his hand as he passed by Noah with a plate full of pizza and sat back on the couch.
“Whatever.” Noah rolled his eyes.
“So, what’s the pizza for? Impromptu guys’ night?” Mykie asked, picking out two pieces of pizza to start with and placed them on a plate. She closed the box after grabbing another few slices and putting them on a separate plate. Grabbing the roll of paper towels from the counter, she walked back over to the couch, but not without holding the second plate out to Noah.
Noah accepted the plate with a nod and sat down in the lounge chair he usually claimed as his spot whenever they all got together.
“I tried to call you before I walked over. Someone came up to me, shoved those into my hands, and told me that someone named Chance needs you to work tonight,” he explained as held out the folders he brought in with the pizza.
Mykie had a piece of pizza halfway to her mouth just as he held out the documents and with a forlorn sigh, she set the greasy goodness back down. Quickly grabbing a paper towel, she wiped her hands before grabbing her phone. It was dead, which explained why she didn’t get his call. She threw the phone back down on the couch before reaching over Dexter for the files. The folders were overflowing with paper sticking out of them that appeared to have been shoved together. It was unorganized, which already irritated Mykie from the second she had it in her hands.
“Whose are these?” Mykie asked, flipping the folder on top open before Noah could answer her. It was a business statement which answered her question. There was a sticky note on top of the first page that told her all she needed to know.
“Do this and I’ll owe you one.”
- Chance
Mykie’s specialty within the Cantils was gathering intel. However, she also worked behind the scenes with Chance to discuss the finances involved in acquiring the best deals with people. Dexter helped her with the jobs when she needed the extra hand during the research period, but she was the one who closed the deals. While they all knew she could fight, they all agreed within the Cantil that it was best that no one knew who she really was in their group and how closely she was involved in them, because she was the end of a lot of people’s careers. Many people who she dealt with believed she was an innocent dancer, even though she didn’t think she could dance any better than a college sorority girl.
Chance wanted Mykie to analyze this specific business—Harper and Co.—and decide whether they were worth buying or annihilating due to the competition they provided to a business the Cantil already owned. Chance only gave the important cases to Mykie, expecting her to handle the riskier decisions better than others might.
“I don’t know. I didn’t even catch who gave them to me, they moved too fast,” Noah explained with a shrug.
“When does he need a decision?” Mykie asked once she glanced through the rest of the folders. They held raw financial and inventory reports of Harper and Co., which Mykie was expected to calculate whether the business was something beneficial for them.
“I’m expecting he wants one by the end of the week,” Dexter answered, already onto his second piece of pizza. He had his phone in his other hand and was scrolling through his messages. “He said he’s out of town, but needs you to be there tonight to bartend. Something about hearing that a Harper might be there tonight. If anything urgent came up, he said to talk to Adam.”
Mykie grimaced.
Adam Young was Chance’s current second-in-command and was always the go-to person whenever Chance was out of town. He was almost fifteen years Chance’s senior, and he always took advantage of Chance being gone to act all big and bad while bossing around anyone he could. Mykie and Dexter suspected that he was one of the few that were angry that a child—a mere twenty-year-old—was gifted the name “Snake King” and the leader position when the last leader died instead of those who were “older and wiser”. Whenever Adam was in charge, it spoke of bad times for Mykie, especially.
“Who would hand me the papers, though? How would they know I wouldn’t look through them?” Noah argued.
“They’ve seen you associating with one of us,” Mykie explained. “Probably with Dexter, and they expected you to at least hand the folders to Dexter if you couldn’t find me. I don’t know why no one could wait to hand it to me specifically if they wanted me to work tonight.”
She looked at Dexter. “Do you think it was some sort of test? See if he’d go through it before deliver it, even if it looked like jumbled and boring information?”
Dexter shrugged. “It’s possible. Anyone would be interested in someone I was spending time with and figure out what was so special about them. I’m sure they would have done the same thing to you, if we didn’t meet after you were initiated.”
Noah covered up his blush with a cough, refocusing their attention on the previous topic. "If you're working tonight, you can get me in, can't you?"
Mykie sighed. "Not tonight. Adam’s going to be watching me annoyingly close, and I rather not wave you around as someone worth interest if I can help it.”
Noah rolled his eyes but agreed with Mykie. He looked at the TV just as he finished his pizza.
