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“Hey, Carmen,” I said, squatting down to rub her velvet head. “You’re the cutest thing,” I told her as her tail wagged hard and her leg started to tap on the ground.
It wasn’t long, though, before she was going over to Junior for attention. Not that I could blame her. I was almost a little jealous at how he was petting her all over.
Once Carmen rushed off to see what her dog friends were rolling in further off in the yard, we followed Hope into, well, the nicest freaking home I’d ever seen in my life.
The outside of the mansion was very traditional, but the inside was sleek, modern, and masculine.
“Mama, did I hear the gate?” a voice called just a second before a man came to stand in the doorway of, well, a library. That was all you could call it with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves loaded down with books.
“Yeah, Junior and Shale are here,” Hope said as the man walked over toward her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
They were a good-looking couple with a similar vibe about them.
I didn’t know what I expected of a cartel leader, but I guess I’d imagined someone older.
Andrés had to be around the same age as Junior with dark hair, tan skin, and lots of ink.
“Junior,” A said, giving him a nod. “Long time,” he added, making me wonder if Junior had ever done work for him. Even just virtually. “What you need from me?”
“It’s more about what Shale needs,” he said, gesturing toward me.
“Shale,” Andrés repeated, brows pinched.
“She owns Deja Brew,” Hope explained.
“What? You looking for business, or…”
“Or,” Junior said. “We good to talk here?” he asked, looking around.
“Yeah, you’re good.”
“Okay. Well, long story short. Shale imports her coffee. Someone got wind of that—“
“And started using her coffee to import blow,” A cut him off.
“Yeah,” Junior said.
“What? You think it’s me?” he asked, not sounding offended by that just curious.
“No.”
“Then why you here, man?”
“Because someone is doing it.”
“It’s business,” he said, shrugging, unconcerned about my predicament.
“Problem is, someone picked up her last shipment and disappeared with it.”
“Oh, so you’re in big trouble, ma,” he said, looking at me, shaking his head.
“The question is… who else is operating in town?”
“No one is operating in town. No way your imports are coming in the docks around here.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” Junior said. “But someoneisoperating on your turf since they involved Shale who has to do the drop of the bricks in town.”
“Oh, yeah?” A asked, and the way his brow quirked up made me think he was both surprised and annoyed by that fact.
