Page 5 of Cold Hard Cash

“Ohhh, fuck,” Jimmy moaned in frustration. He had to get ready, anxiously hurrying to his room to change clothes. He thumbed through his closet, trying to decide what to wear.

Was this like a date? Should he dress up a little? What was the appropriate attire to go have sex with a mob boss to settle a debt?

He picked out the nicest shirt he owned, a simple button-up in a rich red that he’d always been told was his color. He switched between a few different pairs of jeans until he settled on one that fit his long legs well. He was digging through his shoes when it suddenly struck him that whatever he wore probably didn’t matter. After all, it was all going to end up on the floor, wasn’t it?

Sighing, he pulled on his old faithful black sneakers and grabbed his jacket as he rushed out the door. He hailed a cab and promised a big tip if they could get to the Wynne Hotel before nine. He had to hurry, his palms already sweating and his stomach turning somersaults the entire way.

One thing he was certain of was that Boss Cold would not appreciate tardiness.

Chapter Two

Jimmy’s stomach dropped to his feet as he rode the elevator up to the executive level of the Wynne Hotel. The receptionist had given him a skeptical look when he asked for access to Mr. Frost’s room, but she passed him a keycard without question. Tapping his foot anxiously as the floors dinged by, he took a deep breath when the doors finally opened.

There were several large men in suits blocking the hallway, every one of them staring him down as he stepped off the elevator. They did not look friendly.

Jimmy was struck by a bolt of panic. He started to back away, but the elevator doors had already closed behind him. Gulping, he tried to appear as small and as unthreatening as possible while all the blood in his body rushed to his face, and he waved shyly. “Uh, hi.”

“Better hurry up,” the familiar voice of Jules Price rumbled. “Boss ain’t gonna be happy if you’re late.”

“Yeaaaah.” Jimmy gulped, bravely taking a few steps forward. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew he had to be cutting it close. “Hey, Mr. Price.”

Jules lumbered out from the ranks of his fellow suited giants, grinning in an unnaturally friendly way. He waved back and even offered a cheerful greeting, “Good to see you again, Twig. Miss me?”

“Yeah, I always love seeing people who tried to burn me,” Jimmy mumbled, regretting his retort immediately. He attempted a sweet smile, hoping the giant man had a sense of humor.

To his relief, Jules laughed. Jimmy did not.

“Hey, ain’t nothin’ personal,” Jules said, leering smugly, “just business.” Nodding at two of the men, he commanded, “Search him.”

Jimmy didn’t protest as he got patted down roughly, Jules giving him a crooked smile.

“Can’t be too careful.”

“Right.”

“You be sure to show the boss a real nice time,” Jules teased, winking lecherously as the other men chuckled amongst themselves.

Jimmy’s face was suddenly too hot, and he wished he could melt into the floor. He practically sprinted to the door when they released him, using the key to slip inside and shut it quickly.

The room was dimly lit, the air much cooler inside than out in the hall, and it felt good on his blushing face. He saw Cold sitting at a large desk, the only light in the room emanating from a small lamp behind him.

Cold wore a gray sweater that hung nicely on his broad shoulders, the snug fit revealing a much more trim physique than Jimmy had first suspected. He was also surprised to see a thin pair of black reading glasses perched on Cold’s nose as he worked on several thick ledgers spread in front of him. He appeared relaxed and made no effort to acknowledge Jimmy’s presence.

“Good evening,” Jimmy said quietly, not sure how to proceed.

“Bathroom is around the corner,” Cold informed him shortly, not even looking up from the sea of papers. “Shower, and then put on the robe hanging on the back of the door.”

“I-I took a shower this morning,” Jimmy protested weakly, gulping audibly as he quickly added, “Sir.”

Cold sighed softly, obviously annoyed. He took off his glasses and set down his pen, finally lifting his head to stare Jimmy down.

Jimmy froze under the icy gaze, immediately understanding how the mob boss had earned his name. His eyes were piercing, and he was certain they were going to drill holes right through him. He felt trapped, glued to the spot, and he couldn’t look away.

“Allow me to make myself very clear, Mr. Poe,” Cold said slowly, speaking as if Jimmy was a child. He steepled his fingers together, his eyes never leaving Jimmy’s as he went on. “I have been kind enough to offer you this little arrangement to take care of your debt. I expect to get my money’s worth, and—”

“I’m sorry, really, I just have this weird thing about showering in other places that aren’t my house? And—”

Holding up a finger for silence, Cold’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His entire posture had shifted, tense and ready to strike.