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Sydney raises her pistol, aiming it at me. “My bullets are non-traceable. I would think a man of your stature would have the same.”
Well shit, she got me on that one. I try to stay up to date on the latest covert items, but this one has clearly snuck under my radar. How is that possible when I’m the largest arms dealer in Louisiana?
Glaring at Sydney, I return, “I might’ve been out of the loop for this one, but trust me when I say, it will never happen again.”
Sydney studies me before saying, “Come in, Domencio. As I said, I’m tired, so the quicker I let you in to say whatever bullshit you need to say, then the sooner I can get out of her and get some rest.”
Sydney closes the door after I step inside, then faces me. “Follow me.”
“Nice slippers by the way,” I tease behind her.
“Don’t make me regret this,” she says without turning around.
I said nothing as I trailed behind her. After going down halls with family portraits, she brought me to a formal dining room. The table looks as if it could seat six or more.
“Have a seat while I go grab some plates and utensils. What would you like to drink?” she asks.
Placing the bags on the table, I reply, “A beer if you have any.”
“I have Dos Equis and Michelob Ultra.”
“Michelob Ultra, thank you,” I returned.
“You’re welcome,” she says before exiting the room.
I begin to remove the containers from the bags. I wasn’t sure what Sydney liked so I got a little bit of everything. Chargrilled oysters, crawfish etouffee, dirty rice, jalapeno cornbread, Cajun spiced ribeye steaks with garlic mashed potatoes, and for dessert freshly made beignets.
When Sydney returns holding a tray, I have everything laid out.
“Wow, that’s a lot of food. Who’s going to eat all of this?”
I chuckle. “I wanted to make sure I got at least one thing you might like.”
“From the looks and flavorful smells, I think I’m going to like everything,” she says, sitting the tray down.
Sydney stares at me as I stand, then go over to pull her chair out.
“Thank you,” she says, taking her seat.
“You’re quite welcome,” I return, going to sit in the chair across from her.
“I have to say, I was quite stunned to see you at my door. I thought you had your men tailing me just to be nosey,” she admits, handing me a plate with utensils and a napkin on it.
Picking up the napkin, I unfold it, then lay it across my lap. “Since you declined my offer earlier, I came up with the plan to surprise you with dinner. I had my men following you so they could let me know when you were on your way home. I’m curious to know how you knew they worked for me?”
She laughs, handing me the bottle of beer. “My daddy taught me to always be aware of your surroundings. I noticed them when I stopped at the cleaners, not because they stuck out like a sore thumb, but because I recognized them from the casino. A word of advice, Domencio if you’re going to have your men tail someone, make sure you use people your target has never seen before.”
This woman is something else. Beauty and brains. I think I might’ve hit the fucking jackpot with her.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I sigh. “So, what would you like to start with first?” I ask, changing the subject.
Sydney eyes the food, saying, “Everything looks so damn good, I don’t know where to begin.”
“How about the oysters,” I suggested.
She smiles. “I love chargrilled oysters. The ones made at Ruby’s are from my grandmother’s recipe that she was taught by her mother that has been passed down from generation to generation. But I do love the ones they make in New Orleans. I swear, every time I visit, I eat them like twice a day.”
“Really? How often do you go?” I ask, picking up the container, then offering it to her.
