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Her words jolted him out of his breast-worship, and he raked his good hand through his short blonde hair. He’d woken up too late for a shower, and he felt like shit. He must have looked pretty average, too. He’d looked at himself in the rearview before he got off his bike, and his blue eyes were so bloodshot they were practically on fire.
John couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You know what they say about wishes and horses.’
Mariana frowned. Her American accent was flawless, so he sometimes forgot she wasn’t from here. That she didn’t always know American sayings.
‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘I picked this up from Enzo. He still owes another payment next week.’ He didn’t mention how he’d charged extra interest with his fists. Somehow, mentioning that in front of Mariana wouldn’t be a good thing, he decided. She might be Dornan’s – he wasn’t entirely sure – girlfriend? Mistress? Yeah, mistress sounded about right. He didn’t really want to think any deeper about where she had come from and why she’d been kicking her own shit in the back office of a seedy dance club for almost a decade, because when he had added things up, they looked very troubling, indeed. He knew Dornan was obsessed with her. He knew that she was Colombian. He knew that she had a baby son, or he’d been a baby once, anyway. He’d seen the photograph.
Aside from that, he didn’t know a damn thing about her, except that she was fucking beautiful. Long dark hair that reached past her shoulders and curled ever so slightly at the ends. A tiny waist, high cheekbones and those dark blue eyes – they’d make stunning-looking kids together, with their DNA. He shouldn’t even think about that, because he had a wife, and she had Dornan, and they barely even knew each other.
Still. He liked any excuse to come to the burlesque club to see her. Even if it meant fucking his hand up by punching someone whose bone structure was more like a cliff face.
As John was about to explain the contents of the suitcase, Guillermo barrelled into the office.
‘I need fifteen grand,’ he said, looking at Mariana.
John frowned, reaching over and tugging on Guillermo’s leather cut. ‘Good morning, Guillermo. Mind telling me why you need fifteen thousand dollars on a Monday morning?’
Guillermo shrugged, stuffing cold pizza into his mouth. ‘Oh, hey boss. I don’t know,’ he said around a mouthful of pizza. ‘I just do what Dee tells me to do. And he told me to get fifteen grand for him.’
Mariana looked from Guillermo to John. ‘How much is in here?’ she asked, patting the suitcase.
John fought back a smirk. ‘Ten.’
She smiled, swivelling in her chair and unlocking the safe at her feet. It opened with a thunk, and she withdrew a stack of hundreds before closing the safe again and spinning the wheel to lock it.
She unzipped a corner of the suitcase and shoved her stack of bills inside, closing it again and pushing the case across to Guillermo. He wiped his greasy fingers on his jeans and grabbed the suitcase, holding it by his side.
‘What’s for dinner?’ He asked Mariana.
She rolled her dark blue eyes at him. ‘I’m not your mother. Order a pizza. Again.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll get fish tacos from that place you like,’ he said, leaving as abruptly as he had arrived.
Mariana turned her attention back to John. ‘I swear, he’s going to die of a heart attack before he’s forty,’ she said. ‘You got anything else for me to bank today?’
John shrugged. ‘Maybe something this afternoon. I just need you to make my regular transfer. Can you put half in this account?’ He passed her a piece of paper with a series of numbers and she wrinkled up her nose.
‘I need a name,’ she said. ‘For the banking records.’
‘You’ve never needed a name before.’
She shrugged, picking up a ballpoint pen and twisting it between her fingers. ‘It won’t work if I don’t have an account name to attach to it.’
John stared down at her, his cheery mood gone. ‘There is no name,’ he snapped. ‘Just make it happen. Wire it.’
She threw the piece of paper down on his side of the desk, her smile gone, too. ‘New regulations,’ she said coolly. ‘The bank won’t accept the transfer unless I have the name of the bank account.’
John took a deep breath and tried not to lose his shit. It wasn’t her fault. She was just doing her job. But how the fuck was he supposed to get money to where it needed to go if he had to use a name? Names were dangerous. Even with the fake alias she was using, they could potentially track her down. Shit.
‘Look,’ Mariana said, finally meeting his gaze. ‘I can wire transfer if the person can collect the cash on the same day. You don’t need a bank account for that. You call them and give them a code, and they can go to Western Union and take out the money. They still need to show a driver’s licence.’
John nodded, his frayed nerves cooling somewhat. ‘Thanks,’ he said gruffly, sliding the piece of paper back to her.
He needed to find a better way to get money to Stephanie. He wasn’t sure how, but he was going to have to rethink the way he supplemented her before it became impossible.
He thought of Dornan finding out what he’d been doing behind his back, and his stomach knotted. No. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Dornan would never forgive him.
‘What’s wrong with your hand?’ Mariana asked, standing up and leaning across the desk to get a better look. Before John could step back, she’d reached out and taken his hand in hers. ‘Did somebody bite you?’ Her dark blue eyes flashed with concern as she looked from John’s injured hand to his eyes.
