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Dear God, I hadn’t been able to rid myself of the hunk’s salacious words or the husky tone of his voice. I could still feel the man’s fingers dancing across my skin after the hours that had passed.
“No, Jenny. I am not lying to you,” I said into the phone, my fingers crossed from the blatant lie, my pulse still racing. Jenny had bugged me relentlessly the day before and was starting again bright and early on Monday morning in her attempt to get me to spill my guts. She had the instincts of a lion, certain I was lying to her. I wasn’t entirely certain why I wasn’t coming clean, although I’d never considered myself a one-night stand kind of woman, even making fun of girls who engaged in such sordid proclivities.
“Uh-huh. You forget I know you too well, girlfriend,” Jenny huffed. “I will get the sexy, blazing truth out of you. My spideysense tells me that you were with a hot man. Admit it. Come on. It will do your soul some good.”
“There’s nothing to talk about and my soul is just fine.” As I moved into the kitchen, I realized my soul might be tinged a little darker today after the filthy sin I’d committed on Saturday night. Jonny had fucked me two more times, shocking me not only with his libido but his endurance as well. We’d shared drinks. He’d fed me fruit ordered from room service. We’d even taken a hot shower together, finally collapsing in bed somewhere around three in the morning.
But as expected, he’d left without asking my name or my phone number. I kept telling myself that was just fine, that the last thing I needed was a rebound romance after Matt, but every time I moved, I was reminded of the hunky man. Including my still aching bottom. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a cinnamon twist coffee pod, popping it into my Keurig machine before heading to the kitchen television. I flicked on the news, which is what I’d done every morning, something that had annoyed the fuck out of Matt.
Unless, of course, I switched on whatever sports team he’d become fanatical over. Then it was okay to have distractions in the background. God, to think I’d cared about the man was nuts. We didn’t agree on anything.
And Lordy, he hadn’t been as passionate as my mystery man even once. Not once. He also hadn’t been built like the sexy alpha male either. Why was I even bothering to think about my former pain in the ass was beyond me. I could now state under oath that getting under someone could indeed allow you to get over him.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Jenny purred.
“I’m not wearing any pants.”
Jenny snorted. “That’s it. I’m coming over and bringing wine and your favorite ice cream tonight. I might even throw in those bagels and cream cheese you like from that Irish bakery near me.”
“Trying to ply me with bribes?” I noticed the station was recapping a news bulletin from the evening before and sighed. If I had to guess, I’d say there’d been another brutal murder in the heart of Louisville. They’d been increasing the last few months, word on the street the horrific bloodshed was being caused by an Irish mafia syndicate that had stepped foot into the city and surrounding area. Fortunately, I’d yet to be tasked with dealing with anyone within the organization as one of several high-volume prosecutors.
I hoped that trend continued. I had enough on my plate at this point.
“A girl has to do what she has to do to get the goods.”
“You are one bad girl, Jenny. Do you know that?”
“Why you love me, sugar britches. Seven-thirty okay?”
What the hell? Maybe time spent with my bestie would be the icing on the cake of getting over Matt. Maybe we could burn his stuff. Oh, yeah. He hadn’t left anything there. Damn it. I wouldn’t mind having a little bonfire in the backyard. “Sure. But there’s no story to tell, unless you want me to go into play by play about the cute bartender.”
“Incorrigible. Fine. See you tonight.”
Laughing, I ended the call, tossing my phone on the counter and grabbing a mug from the clean dishwasher. I’d no sooner pouredcoffee and added creamer when my phone rang again. Given it was barely six-thirty in the morning, I expected it to be from Jenny, trying one last time. When I noticed the call was from my boss, I stiffened. She never called unless it was urgent or there was bad news.
“Christine. Good morning. I hope you had a good weekend?”
“Better than some,” she said. My boss was a take no shit kind of woman in her early fifties, rising to fame early in her career. That’s one reason I liked working for her, her attitude and diligence inspiring. There was a push for her to run for office, but she’d remained determined to fight the good fight in Louisville.
“I hope that means you’re okay.”
“I’m perfectly fine but my week started early with a call from the chief of police. Four o’clock this morning to be exact. As you well know, I don’t appreciate my mornings being interrupted.”
That was one thing my boss had made perfectly clear since the day she’d hired me.
“What’s going on?” I took a sip of coffee, glancing at the television screen once again. The headline was clear, two brutal murders occurring in the most fashionable residential areas in Louisville. Crimes were committed everywhere. Maybe that was because everyone had a secret, something they kept locked behind a virtual padlock. I’d lived what some would consider a fairytale life, including my early years living in what so many considered a paradise location. There were days I missed the simplicity of living in a rural town in Hawaii where everyone knew each other and crimes were almost nonexistent. Sadly, that wasn’t the real world, and I certainly couldn’t live in fantasyland for the rest of my life.
“Well, it would seem we might have a mafia war on our hands. Two rival syndicates, including the Irish mob leader from right here in Louisville. That can’t happen. It’s an election year.”
“How do you know it’s a rival syndicate?”
Christine half laughed. “Because within these societies, security is more impressive than Fort Knox. No one gets in or out without being guarded or someone well known to the family. Plus, word on the street had been troublesome as of late, my closest informants suggesting Louisville was ripe for the picking.”
I found it fascinating the woman scoured the streets, using little more than thugs that she paid cash to with her own money to remain informed. She should have been in law enforcement instead of prosecution.
Maybe her angry determination regarding this particular case meant she was planning on running for office after all. From what I’d learned over the last couple of years, almost every candidate running for a high-powered office used the promise of ridding the streets of organized crime. It was a huge ticket item. The thought made me laugh since so many families involved in organized crime were actually upstanding, tax-paying citizens. Maybe she knew something I didn’t know.
Her words echoed as the scene on the screen continued to unfold. “O-kay. Do the police have any leads on the killer?”
