forgotten his glasses or excuse himself to the restroom and hope Jackson ordered for him. Day swallowed hard. Maybe, by some miracle, there would be some words he recognized simply by sight? He cracked open the menu, biting down on the inside of his cheek until it bled.
“Day?”
Day jerked his head up. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you want a drink?”
Day blushed, glancing at the server. “Sorry. Martini, extra dirty, please.”
The server smiled, and Day went back to studying the menu until Angel said, “Your man studies the menu like there will be a quiz afterwards.”
Jackson glanced over to Day, who slowly closed the menu and set it down. “I’ve never had Peruvian food before. It all looks so good, I don’t know what to order.”
Sylvia laughed. “It’s all so delicious. You can’t make a bad choice.”
“Hah, clearly, you don’t know me,” Day joked, earning a chuckle from the older couple. “Sometimes, I think I don’t make any other kinds of choices.”
“I don’t know, miho. It seems your luck might be changing. Look at this man on your arm,” Sylvia said, pointing one perfectly manicured hand at Jackson. “He es guapo.”
“Si,” Day said with a sigh.
The server returned with the drinks, and the conversation flowed around Day like a warm breeze. Neither Angel nor Sylvia questioned Day when he said he worked in the entertainment world, and they seemed to have no problem with the way Jackson leaned into him, a protective arm slung over his shoulders.
When the server returned, Day leaned into Jackson, brushing his lips against his ear. “Order for me, I can’t decide what I want.”
“You sure?” Jackson asked.
Day nodded. Jackson ordered something Day had never heard of, but he didn’t care. If it tasted like an old shoe, Day would eat it and smile. He was just relieved he’d found a way around that particular crisis.
When dinner came, the food was amazing, and Jackson beamed as Day excitedly told him how delicious each bite was. But, as soon as the meal ended and the coffee arrived and the bill was paid, the festivities took a decided turn.
Angel cleared his throat as he poured a generous amount of cream into his coffee. “Okay, so let’s talk. What are we going to do about what happened in Bogata? I lost one of my best guys because your guys were sloppy.”
Day’s temper flared at the accusation. He didn’t even know what Angel referred to, but there was no way Jackson hired sloppy guys. That wasn’t who Jackson was. As if he could feel Day’s fury, Jackson found Day’s hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. It felt like a warning.
Jackson leaned back in his seat. “Angel. Be reasonable. Columbia is a dangerous country. We all knew the risks going in. You have my best guys. If they hadn’t been there, it could have been a bullet to the head, not the knee. I’m sorry your man was hurt, and I’ll, of course, be happy to compensate you for his medical bills, but how long have we been doing business together? Has this ever happened before?”
“It’s not unreasonable to expect military trained guards to keep my men alive during these transactions. My men aren’t militia. They are businessmen. They wear suits. Perhaps you are spreading yourself too thin, my friend.” He looked at Day and smirked. “Perhaps, you’re getting a bit…distracted?”
“Does your beautiful wife distract you from your work?” Jackson countered, smiling at Sylvia, who was now playing on her phone, doing her best to be invisible.
Day simply twisted his napkin in his hand until the fabric bit into his skin.
“At my age, I admit, I’m not as distracted as I might have been in my youth. When I was your age,” Angel said.
Jackson scoffed. “You're not that much older than me, Angel. Lay it on me. What is it you want here?”
Angel smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. “Reduce my yearly contract by fifteen percent.”
Jackson’s laugh was loud enough to catch the attention of other tables. “Fifteen percent? For a kneecap? Those are bullet to the head prices, my friend.”
Angel shrugged. “He was my best man. He’ll be very hard to replace.”
Jackson shook his head. “I’m sorry, Angel, but your best man’s knee isn’t worth 1.5 million dollars a year.”
“Is it worth losing a ten million dollar contract?” Angel countered.
Jackson picked up his phone. “Let me crunch some numbers.”
Jackson wasn’t crunching anything. He opened a gaming app and began to fire projectiles at balloons. Day frowned but didn’t ask