Hard to Fight - Bella Jewel Page 0,6

movement makes my brain rattle about in my head.

I’m never drinking again. God, what time did I even get home? After my encounter with the mysterious hot guy, Kady and I continued to drink and dance. The rest is a blur. At least I’m home in my own bed. That’s a plus.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

God dammit. With a curse, I reach over, slapping my palm over my phone and lifting it. I bring it up and press answer, before pressing it to my ear. My head is pounding and the simple movement of lifting my phone has me groaning in agony. This better be good. Or Vance is going to feel serious pain when I manage to drag my ass out of this bed.

“You better have been kidnapped or something equally as awful, Vance.”

A low chuckle.

“Good morning, Gracie Lou. We have a job for you.”

“No,” I grumble. “It took me an hour to pick old man hair from my brush. Go away.”

“It’s a good one…”

I huff. “No.”

“A big one.”

My lips purse. He’s probably baiting me, but he’s got my attention. Damn him, he knows me far too well.

“A big one?” I ask, unable to help myself.

“Mega. You got twenty to get in here, or Don will give it to Julio and he will roll all over this shit while throwing sarcastic useless female remarks at you.”

I huff. I severely dislike Julio. I say dislike, because Don often tells me saying the word hate is bad for my soul. He’s probably right, so I’ll just pretend I don’t hate Julio. Then my soul can remain unmarked and clean. Winner.

“I’m coming, dammit,” I mumble to Vance.

“Atta girl,” he says, sounding far too chipper. “See you soon.”

With that, I roll myself out of bed and trudge into the bathroom. I have one of those quick showers that barely allows me to wash myself, then I dress in a pair of jeans and a sweater before throwing my hair up and hurrying out. I live only five blocks from work, so I don’t use my car a great deal. Besides, there’s a great coffee place on the way that I’m slightly addicted to. I duck into the coffee place, getting my usual caramel latte before walking the rest of the way to the office.

When I arrive, I shove through the front doors and nod to the receptionist, who, putting it simply, hates me. I can’t blame her, really. She’s in love with Vance, and he doesn’t notice her. He does, however, notice me. I like Vance, we have a really great friendship, but Sally up there doesn’t like that. Not one bit.

The building I work in isn’t huge, but it’s nice. There are five offices, one big reception area, a conference room and a lunchroom. Don has the biggest of the five offices, and Vance, Julio and I have one each. We use the last one for storage, filing, and things like that. The building itself is fairly modern, after being recently re-furbished. Now it has dark grey walls and beautiful black tiling throughout. All the offices have been updated and I got a fancy new computer along with it. Score.

I push into the conference room right on time, and see Don, Vance and Julio sitting around the small, square table. I glare at Julio as I go past and he sneers at me, flashing perfect – damn him – white teeth. His dark hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail at the base of his neck and he’s wearing an impeccable suit. Julio is good at his job, simply because you don’t expect him. He’s always so neat, so tidy and so unlike a “typical” Bounty Hunter.

Not that there’s a particular type, but if you’ve ever watched television, they’re often portrayed as scary and mean. Julio is anything but. He’s the last person you’d expect to crash into your world and tackle you onto the ground. In other words, he doesn’t look like a badass mother. Vance and I are totally badass mothers. Well, Vance is. I pretend to be, because, like Julio, I’m not what anyone expects. It can be an advantage, but also a disadvantage.

It’s a disadvantage when the person I’m bringing in decides to break down into fits of laughter over the fact that I’m a girl. Yes, that happens. A lot. I quickly correct them, usually with a foot to the ribs. I might not look it, but I’m totally endeavoring to become the ultimate badass mother.

“Morning,” I mutter.

“Late