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Tommie had come up with the brilliant idea that Mary should talk with her ‘potentials’ in a more laidback environment. So, he had arranged an impromptu happy hour at the Irish pub across the street. Everyone—that is, the single ones not working a job—had been invited.
They had gone to O’Shea’s, and Hector had followed them. Just to keep an eye on things, of course. Make sure that his men behaved themselves. Though, to be fair, they were behaving just fine. Freaking fantastic fine, mooning over Mary, who was holding court in her corner in the back. With pretty boy Beau Walker plastered to her side. The guy was a chick magnet as he’d ever seen one.
“You okay with this?”
His gaze turned to Achilles, who sat next to him at the bar. “With what?”
“The dates, or interviews, or whatever the fuck you want to call them, she’s been having with the men.”
“Why would I care who she’s going to fuck?”
Achilles raised a brow. “Going to fuck? I thought she was only looking for a fake husband to get the kid.”
As if any man living under the same roof with her wouldn’t fuck her. Apparently, his scowl spoke for itself because Achilles nodded.
“I see.” Achilles cleared his throat. “Funny, by the way, how Zoe’s uncle suddenly had a car drop on top of him.”
Hector kept his face straight. “Accidents happen.”
“Uh-huh. You got an alibi?”
“You offering one?”
Achilles clinked his bottle against his. “Always.”
“Appreciated.” Not that he believed he needed one. Unless the fucker wanted Hector to finish the job. He hadn’t gone over to the garage to hurt him. All he’d wanted was to have a chat, possibly pay him off. Then the asshole had given him lip. The eager look in his eyes, as he talked about having Zoe with him, was the final straw that snapped Hector’s control.
“So, you really gonna sit here, pretend you don’t give a shit about her?”
Sometimes he hated Achilles’ ‘the glass is always full to the brim’ mentality. He was just about to tell him to shove his glass where the sun don’t shine, when he caught Mary hug Walker goodbye.
Acid filled his stomach.
Apparently, she was a hugger. Of course she was.
“Hector?”
“What?” he growled. Judging by Achilles’ look, it wasn’t the first time he called out his name.
“Yeah, I can see you’re not interested in her at all.”
He forced his gaze away from Mary. “You had your interview with her yet?”
“Nope. She didn’t ask me.” Achilles looked amused. “Not sure if I should be insulted by that or not.”
On second thought, he should’ve known Mary wouldn’t ask Achilles since Tommie had a thing for him. Something Achilles seemed completely oblivious to. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt her friend, because that was the kind of person she was. Thoughtful, always thinking of others. One of the many reasons why the two of them would never work out.
“Not that I would have accepted anyway,” Achilles continued. “No one will, unless you tell them to.”
“Unless I tell them to? Didn’t I already tell them?” He’d explained Mary’s deal to the men who were interested. It had felt like someone was pulling out his nails, but he’d still done it. “Isn’t that the whole fucking reason they’re sitting there with her?”
Having a drink, and a laugh. Having a fucking good time, from what he could see.
“Yeah, about that. There’s a pool going on, for how long it will take until you crack. Hate to say this to you, but the odds are in the girl’s favor.”
“What the fuck?” He slammed his bottle on the bar. “Why would they do that?”
Achilles looked at his fist. “Probably because you’ve been staring daggers at any man she’s been talking to.”