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“Oh. Now he’s calling. Ooh, is this him? He’s cute.” Rose turns the phone toward Jasmin, but before I can see the image on the caller ID, she snatches it out of Rose’s hand and ends the call.
“He’s just a work contact interested in an open event booking,” Jasmin says as she retrieves her purse from the floor near Logan and shoves her phone inside it.
“Alistair who? Did he fill out an enquiry form?” Logan asks.
I don’t miss the ‘leave it’ glare that Jasmin gives Logan. It’s the same one she gave me last week as I questioned the over-friendly delivery driver who was delivering her a parcel. Chancing fucker was relieved to have left in one piece once I’d finished with him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” Jasmin breezes over to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek, then blows one to Rose and Logan. “Love you all. But I’ve got to go. See you later.”
I stare after her as the front door to my apartment closes. The hairs on the back of my arms stand up. I know when she’s lying to me. Call it big brother intuition.
I have something new added to my to-do list whilst I’m at work later.
Find out who the fuck this Alistair is.
“So, you got a girl, then?”
I turn my back on Marcus, my jaw tightening as I check over the crates awaiting pick up.
He huffs when I don’t answer him. “How long we been doing this shit together now? And I still know nothing about you.”
“I don’t mix business and my personal life.” I count off the crates. Twenty in total. Things are progressing. Another ten will arrive in two days’ time, and then there’s the boat shipment coming up.
The big one.
It’s the reason I’m here, in a dingy, damp basement in the shady as fuck end of town, with a guy who smells like BO masked in cheap aftershave.
“I have.” He sniffs, moving a crate and placing it on top of another against the stone wall. “Julie.” He leans against the crate, a smile spreading over his lips. “She’s the one. Cooks a killer steak. Peppercorn sauce… lovely.”
Despite myself, my lips curl at the love-drunk expression on Marcus’s face.
“I’m getting out of this shit, you know. Once I’ve got enough to get her a nice ring. I’m going to ask her to marry me, and we’re going to move. She’s got family up north she misses.”
The beginning of the smile drops from my lips. “You’re quitting?”
“Yeah.” Marcus shrugs. “One day. Won’t you? You know, pack all this up. I know it’s different for you—”
“How?” I bark, causing his shoulders to jerk in surprise.
“Well… you’re…” He glances at me. “You’re good at this. You’re a fucking natural. I’ve seen guys piss themselves when you walk in a room. But me?” He clicks his tongue. “You might think it, but I’m not an idiot. I know I’d be lucky to keep my head in this game if I stay too long.”
I look at the floor grimly. Marcus is right. I did think he was an idiot. An idiot who only cared about money and the ego he gained playing wannabe gangsters. I thought he was like most of the new, young guys who don’t know the shit they’re messing with. Coming in all bravado, until they get taken down a peg or two and learn their place.
But maybe I had him wrong. Because he sure as hell is making sense right now.
“I’m no natural. I do what needs doing.”
“Sure, whatever, man. If it suits you. But I know this isn’t for me. Not forever, is all I’m saying. And this stuff I heard about Mr. Young—”
“Forget him,” I snap.
Marcus studies me as I take a slow deep breath in, preventing the anger surging inside my chest from showing.
“You don’t need to think about him. Just do your job. Don’t listen to anyone else. Don’t repeat anything to anyone. Just keep your head down, okay?”
This is the most we’ve ever spoken outside of the minimum interaction required when we are doing a job together. It’s definitely the most I’ve ever said in his presence, outside of giving him orders.
“Get Julie that ring, and then get out, if that’s what you want.”
