Page 36 of Deja Brew


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That was… likely going to get complicated really quickly.

Because there was no way I was not going to be banging this guy.

And I was also stuck with him.

So, yeah.

It was going to be all about me and my disappointed hopes in the near future.

Somehow, though, I couldn’t bring myself to care as I stood there and swiped on some makeup, and fixed my hair.

The future me could deal with a little heartsickness.

The current me was going to enjoy the fuck out of that delicious man in the other room.

Come what may.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Shale

The only time I drove through the wealthy area of Navesink Bank was around the holidays when I was driving around looking for great Christmas light displays.

So I couldn’t exactly say I’d passed this cartel leader’s house “a million times,” but I’d definitely seen it a few times.

I’d looked at it with the same sort of surprised wonder that anyone could afford to live in such a sprawling mansion. Hell, I could hardly believe anyone could maintain the grounds of a place like that, let alone the heat and air conditioning.

I always imagined these kinds of houses were owned by stock traders and big businessmen, maybe the occasional entrepreneur who came up from nothing.

Cartel leader had never crossed my mind.

We waited by the gate as one of A’s men called to the house to double-check that we belonged there before hitting the button to make the gate slide open.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding about the dogs,” I said, seeing at least five or six of them wandering around the grounds. Most of them wearing little sweaters and booties to protect against the chill.

“And there’s Hope,” he said, nodding out the windshield to where a pretty woman was standing in a tank top under a bomber jacket, utilitarian pants, and combat boots. Her dark hair had hints of red when the light hit it, and her dark eyes seemed to take me in and make conclusions about me the second I stepped out of the SUV.

“Thanks for setting this up for us,” Junior said to Hope as we approached.

“You never ask for help with anything. I’m curious,” she admitted.

“This is Shale. Shale, Hope. Hope is a private investigator. Shale owns Deja Brew, the new coffee shop in town.”

“Deja Brew? Where is that?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“In the strip mall where the old mattress store used to be,” Junior told her.

“Mattress store,” Hope snorted. “More like mob front. Well, I’ll have to stop in. I hate the lines at She’s Bean Around.”

“You won’t have to worry about lines at my place,” I said with a little head shake.

“It’ll pick up,” Junior assured me in this calm, certain way that almost made me believe him. “Once you can open up again.”

“And… that has to do with why you want to see Andrés,” Hope said, moving toward the door.

“Yeah,” Junior said, nodding.

“Well, let’s… oh, this is Carmen,” she said as a pittie rushed out the door, all big head and wide chest on those gangly legs that said she was likely still a puppy. A cute as hell one with her all-white body and black nose that had little black dots that turned it into a heart shape.

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