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Achilles dropped his duffel bag next to Hector’s bench. “So, Mary’s looking for a husband, huh?”
“Is there anything you don’t fucking know?”
“Yeah, the combination to your safe.”
“Fuck you.”
“So, want me to call you a realtor?”
“What would I need a realtor for?”
His friend gave an exasperated sigh. “To buy a house, of course. You live in a dump.” He glanced at the steel stairs that led upstairs, not looking impressed.
“I wouldn’t call a state of the art loft a dump.”
“It’s a big, empty, soulless space. Saying it’s ‘sparse’ is overstating it. All you have in there is a bed and a fridge. Though, I’m not sure why. You’re worth billions.”
“Not billions. That’s Gio.” He had given Gio start-up money from the get-go and, in return, he’d received shares in Detta Enterprises. By the time he had finished three tours, his share was worth millions. So that had worked out pretty well. Not that he particularly cared for the money. He was a simple man.
“Whatever. Millions then. Either way, you have more than enough to provide for your own family. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my sisters, it’s that women like a house to nest in. It’s like their castle. So, want me to get you a realtor?”
He flipped his friend off on his way out. Damn nosy bastard. With Achilles’ laugh still resonating in the back of his mind, he went over to Detta Tower.
He made his way up to the executive floor where he passed Gio’s PA. “Hi, Gale.”
“Good evening, Hector. Mary should be here any minute.”
He scowled when he saw her lips quirk. “I’m just here to return a file to Gio.”
“Oh.” She extended a hand to him. “You can give it to me, if you want.”
“Nah, it’s confidential.” He ignored her hand and went into Gio’s office.
Gio gave him a knowing smirk from behind his desk. Hector kindly gave him the finger.
Mary appeared at eight o’clock sharp, looking as pretty as a button in her denim skirt and green sandals. Her arms were decorated in silver bracelets and her long, curly hair had a few thin braids in it. She’d painted her toes a hot pink. He liked that about her. She was all about color; happy, bouncy, and warm, like the sun.
She dropped onto the couch across from Gio, a determined gleam in her baby blues. “I’ve made my choice.”
He’d bet it was Walker. The fucker was the prettiest of his men. Something the guys always gave him shit over. The ex-black-ops had been on many missions, had broken quite a few bones, but for some reason, his pretty face had been spared. Women always made a fool of themselves over him. Maybe he could send him to Zambia. Planes went missing in Africa all the time.
Gio nodded. “Enlighten us, Mary.”
She took a breath and then turned to him. “I choose Hector.”
He blinked. Surely, he’d heard that wrong, which was ironic, considering his hearing was something he prided himself on.
“Ah.” Gio, the fucker, didn’t sound surprised at all. “Well, that’s a done deal then.”
Hector scowled. “There’s no fucking deal. Are you crazy? Pick someone else. Anyone else. I’m not the one for you.”
She cocked her head. “Why is that?”
What kind of question was that? Instead of yelling, he tried to be reasonable. Mary was fragile, and he didn’t want to scare her. “For starters, I have PTSD.”
“So? I’m annoyingly chipper in the morning.”
He narrowed his eyes, not sure if she was making fun of him. “I’m an ugly motherfucker,” he stated.