Daring Devlin (Lost Boys #1) - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,17

be less successful collecting money for Sonny given that he looked about as trustworthy as a used car salesman. I blamed the pencil-slim suit pants. Never trust a man whose junk you could see at a glance.

“I have someone else in mind,” I said, unsure if I could trust my own plan.

“I was kidding about Vaughn. He’s the wrong fit for Oak & Sage clientele.” Sonny leaned back in the booth, his hand wrapped around the mug of coffee. I wondered if it ever became too much, being the biggest bookie in town, buying off cops, putting up with lowlifes every damn day. Or maybe he was too old to give a shit about much of anything. “Plus, Vaughn’s a rookie.”

I grunted my agreement.

“Who are you thinking?”

Of all the staff I employed at Oak & Sage, only one face came to mind as my fill-in. The same face that had popped into my head repeatedly since the night she dragged me in from the cold, loaned me her phone, and offered me a blanket.

“New girl,” I muttered, balling a napkin in my fist.

“Can you trust her?”

I wanted to say yes. Instead, I told the truth. “Maybe.”

“Know for sure by Tuesday afternoon. Travis will be there at two. And it’s a stack of cash, kid.”

I nodded my understanding.

“Stay out of sight. Travis is a good old-fashioned scumbag. He’ll rat to everyone in town if he sees you looking like—”

“Son.” I cut him a petulant glare. “I know.”

“I know you know.” He smiled.

I stood to leave, dropping a twenty-dollar bill on the table for Donna.

As I exited the restaurant, Sonny called, “Say hi to Paul for me.”

Dread covered me from head to toe.

Rena

Tasha handed over my Starbucks cup. The sloppy handwritten marker read “Tina.” They rarely got my name right. I’d given up spelling it to them.

“Who picked him up? Was she a hot blonde?” She sipped from her own cup.

I’d told her about the other night while we stood in line, leaving out the part about Devlin busted up and bleeding. I didn’t want to make his visit sound more sinister than it was so I kept it simple: He knocked on the door. He used my bathroom. Any more details might’ve raised a red flag.

“No idea,” I answered. “The windows of the Mercedes were tinted.”

“Ugh. I hate rich, pretty girls.”

I stifled a smile as we made our way to a small corner table in the coffee shop. Tasha was a rich, pretty girl. It was nine-thirty and my shift started at ten, which gave me roughly ten minutes to down my macchiato.

“What if he’s married?” she asked, her tone aghast.

“He doesn’t wear a ring,” I said a tad defensively. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Still, I doubted someone like Devlin was married. Monogamy didn’t fit.

“He could be married and not wear the ring to work. Maybe he picks up chicks that way.”

But he hadn’t attempted to pick me up. Not that he’d been thinking of sex at the time. I pictured his cuts and swollen eye and cringed.

“He’s probably a jerk. Most hot guys are.”

I paused to allow room for an “I Hate Tony” story.

Instead she said, “Tony and I are going to Parade tonight. It’s ladies’ night. Free margaritas. You in?”

I shook my head. “Work. I close tonight.”

“We aren’t going until midnight, Reen.” She rolled her eyes.

I didn’t want to have to entertain myself while Tony and Tasha ground against each other on a foggy dance floor. And I didn’t want to expend the energy it would take to avoid the throngs of drunk guys on the prowl on ladies’ night. Gross.

Impatiently, I drummed my fingers on my cup. What I wanted was to go to work and see if Devlin showed up today. He hadn’t been to work in two days. The suspense was killing me.

After I’d turned down the would-be sausage-fest at Parade for the third time, I left Tasha to her phone (sexting Tony, I assumed) and hustled to work.

The kitchen was cool since the grills hadn’t been turned on yet. Typically I’d find Devlin in the back office or the front of house, but I didn’t see him in either place as I made my way to the storeroom with my coat.

Melinda was leaving as I entered. I dumped my coat onto a flat of giant cans of tomatoes. Only then did I register a figure on the opposite side of the storeroom. At first I assumed it was one of the prep guys.