Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,83

wasn’t loving her boyfriend’s attempts. We really needed a girl’s weekend away. Maybe I should try it for a week. It wasn’t like I had a job, but everyone else might have trouble taking that much time off.

Krissy cleared her throat. “Rich—”

“I don’t want your input right now,” Pucci said. “I told you how it was with me, babe, and this is it.”

Saber’s jaw clenched. “I’m not trading. Not now or ever, Pucci. Not my thing.” The Lordes member rose several notches in my opinion.

The relief that slid over Kelsey’s face made my temper spiral.

Pucci motioned for the Walker sisters to follow him out, and they did. Once they were all gone, I sucked in a deep breath. “That guy is such an asshole.” I couldn’t care less if he had the place bugged or not.

Saber flashed a grin. “Keep that in mind and stick close to Devlin while we’re here.” Gunfire erupted outside, and he held up a hand when I jumped to my feet. “It’s all good. Just some target practice away from the camp, and it was planned. I should’ve told you about it. Sorry.”

“That was an automatic weapon,” I said.

“Yep.” He shrugged. “A little much if you ask me but not illegal.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. “Okay. Thanks.” I turned back to my paperwork and went through the jury questionnaires, flagging the ones I’d want to excuse for sure. Then I started drafting an opening argument, and my stomach hurt even more. I really wasn’t ready for this.

The door opened right when I was starting to get hungry again.

“Hey, Angel.” Aiden walked in and before I could say a word, I caught sight of Pucci behind him. “Let’s grab some dinner.” He had a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone and what looked like motor oil on one thigh as he pulled a backpack off.

I stood, aware I was still wearing my suit from court.

He grinned. “I brought you some different clothes. Had to borrow from Kelsey, but she had more than any one person could want.” He set the pack on the bed and drew out jeans and a sweatshirt. “It gets colder up here at night, so you should be all right with the sweatshirt.”

“Thanks.” I’d feel better out of the skirt, that was for sure.

Aiden partially turned to see Pucci. “We’ll meet you outside.” He gently clasped my arm in a quick squeeze that felt reassuring and then moved toward the door, herding Pucci out. Even so, I could see Pucci’s grin. Oh, he had no idea I knew about possible cameras.

In a move women have perfected for years, I tugged on the jeans before sliding the skirt down over them and then undid my blouse and quickly yanked the sweatshirt over my head. If Pucci got off on two seconds of seeing my plain white camisole that covered my plain white bra, then he could have at it. Moron.

I looked into the pack and grabbed a thick pair of socks and tennis shoes. The socks fit, and the tennis shoes were a size too big, but I could make them work. So I opened the door and stepped outside where the smell of barbecued chicken and campfire smoke commingled into a sense of my childhood. I’d loved camping with my family every weekend, even after the kidnapping that had ended well because of Aiden.

He took my hand and led me toward the main lodge. Men and women milled around, many wearing a whole lot of camo. Many folks in my family hunted, so I was accustomed to seeing people in camo, but there were a lot of them at this camp.

There were also several women in too short shorts and tank tops that left nothing to the imagination. A couple tried to sidle close to Aiden. It was so weird. I have no problem with people choosing how to live their lives, but some things I just didn’t understand.

The food was spread out over a picnic table with a cheery looking red tablecloth, and we grabbed paper plates and dished up. Chicken, salads, rolls and other camping staples looked delicious.

“Hey Anna,” Kelsey called out from behind another table closer to the trees where she had a blender that was going nonstop. “Want a Margarita? They’re my specialty.”

“She’s good,” Aiden answered for me, digging two beers out of a cooler at the end of our table.

I almost protested and then thought about it. Oh. As somebody who’d unknowingly eaten pot-filled brownies not