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“Everything okay?” Fernando looks up from the table.
“Yeah.” He clutches the container holding the bag of drugs to his chest. “I will be. Just part of the process.”
My stomach knots with concern. I rush to the sink and fill a cup of water before handing it to him. “Here you go, burrito.”
Wrapping his fingers around the plastic, he tilts his head at me. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
After all this time, now is when he decides to ask me that? He oddly never questioned it before. Assuming it's the distraction he needs from the answer, I shrug, pulling out a bottle from my black bag. “Because your job title is drug mule but you remind me more of a baby donkey.”
Fernando snorts, shoving a chip into his mouth. A smirk plays on Phillip's lips and he twists a strand of one of his pink locks around his finger. “Here I thought it was because I made you so hungry, you couldn't help but view me as a delicious snack.”
“I ate only recently. Why would I be hungry so soon?” My face wrinkles in confusion.
Snickering between taking sips of his water, Phillip waves me off with his hand. He grabs the bottle from my fingers and sprays the numbing spray on the back of his throat before handing the medicine back. He then drains his cup and sticks his hip out toward me. “You're a hitman, right?” Phillip asks, leaning closer to me. He already knows that, doesn't he? Everyone does.
“Among other things,” I answer.
“So that means you're very attached to your gun then, and it goes wherever you do?”
Fernando keeps watching us with curiosity, and I look at my phone, pretending not to pay much mind to Phillip. “Yeah, sure. Are these questions going somewhere?”
“I was just curious about all the places you use your gun at, is all. Wondering if you don't only carry it to large open spaces but in dark and tight areas as well.”
Ignoring how Fernando holds his hand to his mouth, I squint and finally turn my attention to a smirking Phillip.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I finally lower my phone, tilting my head. I'm not in the mood for his weird jokes today. If that's what this is.
Before Phillip can answer, two men walk in, and I sigh in relief to no longer have Fernando's gaze bouncing between us.
“We're going to be late if you don't hurry,” Fernando says, nudging his head in the direction of the bathroom.
“Yeah, okay. I'm going.” Swaying his hips in my direction, Phillip disappears into the bathroom.
I turn my attention to Fernando. “What a strange man,” I say, hoping he didn't mistake Phillip's weird behavior for flirting. He just likes the attention, is all. I'm sure he acts this way with others who've worked with him before.
“Says the person who keeps calling him little donkey in Spanish.” He huffs and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I can't help it if it's fitting.
A little while later, the bathroom door creaks open and Phillip places the empty bag in front of Fernando. “I'm ready.”
Fernando collects his trash and tosses it in the garbage, then sets his bag on the counter. “Let's get this over with. I won't be coming back here late today. I promised to take Enrico home and I intend to be a man of my word.”
I push off the wall, biting my tongue to stop myself from making a remark. Ever since their relationship came out, they feel the need to mention the other's name every chance they get. Fernando is very possessive and I think it's his way of reminding everyone who Enrico belongs to. I hate to be the one to tell him that no one is brave enough to be with Zacharias's son except for him.
I leave the room first, and they follow behind me. Customers enter the double doors as we exit and the bright sun has me quickly sliding my sunglasses over my eyes. We all get in the car, Phillip beating Fernando to the passenger seat to sit next to me. He really does a great job of not making shit obvious. I hope he doesn't plan on holding hands right now.
He side-eyes me, inching his hand closer to the gear shift, and I shake my head at him. Luckily he listens and stays on his side of the car. It's hard to focus on anything else when his knees are bouncing. I grip the wheel tighter to keep my hands where they are, to stop one from landing on his. The drive is mostly quiet until Phillip plays music from my phone. “Call Me Maybe” blares from the speakers and Fernando groans, banging his hand against the door.
Phillip being the cheeky shit he is, sings and smiles until we reach the airport. When we arrive, we get out before Fernando does and get past the security checkpoint. It isn't until he finds us by the bathroom that I realize what delayed him. Enrico is here. The little shit snuck into the trunk and Tyson helped him pull off his little scheme. Figures as much, since he's scared of him. Most people are. Not me. I've seen and dealt with worse monsters than Enrico and Zacharias combined. So have they.
Phillip sits with me on the plane in a row far away from Fernando and Enrico. They disappear to the bathroom together and I'm not the only one who notices.
“Looks like they're off to have a good time.” Phillip holds my hand and I don't push him away. Not when Fernando and Enrico exit the bathroom either. It isn't until the plane lands that we break apart and I walk ahead of him after grabbing my bag. Wasting no time, we grab a rental and head to the client's house. Hours later, we're done delivering the product, and Phillip tells me his stomach feels uneasy on the way back to the airport. Fernando and Enrico stay behind after deciding to take a last-minute mini vacation. We're dropped off in the front and I wait until we're boarded on the plane to hold Phillip’s hand again.
“Where are we going next?”
I squeeze his fingers after noticing how uneasy he looks. “Home for enchilada night, remember?”
Giving me a half smile, he nods. “I remember.”
