Page 8 of Ridin' True

“Yes,” I replied honestly. I set my purse and my tea down, but I didn’t sit as I faced them behind my desk.

“We got a message. You’ve got business with Rocco. But with that ass in that skirt, I think you might have business with me, too.”

I frowned and took a step back, feeling instantly uncomfortable and disgusted at the same time. I let my disgust wrap itself around my tone as I asked, “Excuse me?”

The sleazy one laughed while the scary one flashed an annoyed expression his way before addressing me himself.

“Alejo Torres gave us your name. He’s in deep shit, says you can bail him out. Rocco Borrero has summoned you. Friday. Three P.M.” He held up a card then set it on my desk.

Alejo.

I thought back to Sunday afternoon.

His clear eyes. His good mood.

It had been a show.

Great. Just great.

I didn’t have time for this.

“Okay—I don’t know who you are, I don’t know thisRoccoguy, and I certainly am not meeting him at three o’clock on Friday.”

“If you’re smart, you won’t ignore his summons.”

“Yeah,” pipped in sleazy. “No one ignores Rocco.”

I shook my head in disbelief. This didn’t feel real.

“Again, I don’t know thisRoccoyou speak of, and the onlysummonsI answer to come from the court. Now, you don’t have an appointment, and I have a job to do here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The scary one leaned toward me and warned, “You might not know him now, but you will. Rocco doesn’t play games with his money. We’re here as a courtesy. You can come voluntarily or by force. The choice is yours.”

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry—I don’t mean to interrupt.”

I looked toward the door, relieved at the sight of Cora.

“Mr. Barker just arrived. I was walking by, and I thought I’d show him in. Should I wait?”

“Nope. They were just leaving,” I stated, hopeful the nameless cronies would take their cue and go.

When they stood, both Cora and I watched as they departed.

She raised an eyebrow at me, silently expressing her intrigue.

I shook my head, silently informing her she didn’t actually want to know.

“Thanks. You can show Mr. Barker in. I appreciate it.”

“Sure.”

She disappeared, and I searched my desk for Jed Barker’s file. My unexpected guests robbed me of the chance to peruse the few notes inside. Now, I had five seconds to appear even a little bit prepared.

“Here she is,” said Cora.

Still hunting for his folder, I said, “Hi. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. I just need one second.”

“Those guys friends of yours?” came his low, resonant voice as he filled the doorway.