the cops tried to talk to him, he swung.”
“At the cops?” I asked.
“Yup,” Jen said. “So that’s that. I don’t have any money to bail him out.”
“Good,” Connie said.
“I’m really sorry, Jen,” I said. “Thanks for calling me. I wish I could do something.”
“Let me live through you for a second,” Jen said. “Tell me a hot, pregnant sex story about your big dicked boss.”
I laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
“Come on,” Connie said. “You’re living a good life in the city. Share the wealth a little.”
“It’s just…” I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I looked at my office door. “Hey. Listen. I’m at work. I’m in my office and I have to go.”
“I bet the boss is there,” Connie said.
“Is his dick hanging out of his suit pants?” Jen asked. “Please say yes.”
“You two are crazy,” I said. “But I really have to go.”
I ended the call and put my phone on my desk.
“Where is he?”
“He’s not here,” I said. “You should go. I’ll tell him you were here. He’s meeting someone.”
“Mr. Cucumber?”
“Mr. Pickle,” I said. “Please… go…”
“I’m not going to do that, Maya.”
Cody then stepped into my office.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Cole
Mr. Pickle chose a lounge type setting for our next meeting.
He sat with his arms across the top of a leather couch, looking relaxed, maybe even drunk.
I looked around the place and got a strange vibe from it.
It had the feel of a strip club, minus the thumping music and glitter.
This area was more of a VIP section, where it was sectioned off and very private.
It was a lot of space for two people to sit and talk.
But with so much money on the line, secrecy was important.
Mr. Pickle leaned forward and grabbed his drink glass and lifted it into the air.
“Have one with me, Cole,” he said.
“Of course,” I said.
“And have a seat. You standing around is making me nervous. I’m here to relax and celebrate.”
Celebrate?
A waitress approached me carrying a large tray with a single drink on it.
She smiled and I took the drink.
I sipped it and it was very smooth.
Expensive smooth.
I sat down and nodded to Mr. Pickle. “Are we finishing this right now?”
“Possibly,” he said. He waved his now empty glass in the air and slid it across the table between us. He put his elbows to his knees. “Why do you need this deal?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sometimes I let my emotions get the best of me, Cole. Sometimes I rush forward too soon and too fast. But I always know when to stop.”
“Stop?”
“Answer the question. Why do you need this deal?”
You motherfucker…
Rage started to build inside me.
I was not in the mood for games.
I had come too far…
“We both need the deal,” I said. “And I’m not sure need is the correct word. We both can easily walk away and live just fine. Of course, the cost of the lawyer’s fees will eat at us for a while. Not to mention the wasted time. That’s one thing we never get back here. Bank accounts can grow. The amount of time we have doesn’t. That’s always moving in reverse.”
“But why… why this?”
“Why not? I’ve spent years building this company. I worked my ass off to grow the company. There’s a ceiling here for the company. I’m not stupid. There’s always a great opportunity for you to make a lot of money doing nothing but having drinks in a place like this. Last time I checked, I thought you enjoyed money. Maybe I’m wrong.”
Mr. Pickle pointed to me and smiled. “You’re getting defensive, Cole. You’re getting too attached to the company, the deal… maybe me.”
“I disagree. I’m just tired of wasting time. There are better things to do instead of talking right now.”
“Ah, something we can agree on.”
Mr. Pickle clapped his hands and I looked behind me.
I turned my head and shut my eyes.
A second later, when I opened my eyes, they were still walking toward us.
Who were they?
Two beautiful women… hired for one thing…
She sat down on the arm of the chair and put her right hand on my shoulder and squeezed. She smelled like expensive perfume and I could tell she wore nothing but the black dress that clung tightly to her body . She had jet-black hair and a stare that matched as she smiled at me.
“That’s Danielle,” Mr. Pickle said. “And my girlfriend here is Rachel.”
Mr. Pickle had a type.
Rachel’s chest was so big she looked ready to fall forward. She had almost white-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a giggle that