Page 54 of Don’t Say Mafia

I finally looked up from the phone and smiled.

And somewhere in my head, a clock started ticking.

CHAPTER 12

JAGGER

The bell over the coffee shop door rang when I stepped inside, bright and obnoxiously cheerful as always, and it immediately put me in a worse mood.

I hadn’t slept at all. I’d spent the entire night handling a situation at one of the smaller casinos off Fremont, a little operation that had decided skimming from the high-limit tables was worth the risk. By the time I’d finished making my point and ensuring the problem wouldn’t repeat itself, dawn had been flirting with the skyline, and my patience was already threadbare.

This stop was supposed to be automatic and the bright spot of my day. I’d come here because she’d finally left his hospital room, and she was supposed to be here for a shift.

Where the fuck was she?

Her annoying coworker was behind the counter, the one who didn’t actually work because she made Eden do it all. She was already giving me simpering, eager looks like she actually thought it was a possibility I’d fuck her.

Eden was nowhere to be seen.

I hadn’t thought to look at my camera setup on the way over here on account of my zombielike mental capacity at the moment, but I approached the counter anyway to make sure she wasn’t just in the back. “Where’s Eden?” I asked, unable to force any charm or pleasantries into my voice.

The woman gaped at me like a confused fish. “Uh . . . she’s not here.”

I sighed. “Yes, I can see that. But she was supposed to be,” I said, trying not to sound too annoyed.

“How did you—” she began before shaking her head. “Um, well, she called in for an emergency this week and . . .”

“And what?” I snapped, sensing there was more to it.

She hesitated, glancing toward the back like she hoped someone else might step in and save her. “She got fired.”

I stared at her, uncomprehending.

“Excuse me?” I said, my voice edged despite the exhaustion dragging at me. I might have been tired, but I was still certain my message to Shelby about Eden had been unmistakably clear. Shelby owed a lot of money to us thanks to her nasty little gambling habit, and the only reason she still owned this fucking coffee bar was because she was married to Lawson’s second cousin.

“She missed a few days,” the woman said defensively, clearly thinking I was holding her responsible for the decision. “Our boss said it was too many.”

I nodded slowly, not because I accepted it, but because reacting here would have been messy, and messes were for later. “Thanks,” I said as I turned and started for the door. I reached up and grabbed the bell on my way out, ripping it off the wall. The annoying employee was gasping as the door closed behind me, but I didn’t look back.

Outside, the morning sun was already climbing, and I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, my hands flexing at my sides in irritation. I pulled out my phone.

Gage answered on the second ring. “What happened?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Why do you assume something happened?” I asked.

“Because you’re calling me when I just got to work, honey.”

Ah, Gage was with someone. While also being our fixer, Gage was also an FBI agent. It was very helpful to have someone on the inside when you were running a mafia organization.

“Well, little Snuffleupagus,” I said sweetly, “I just need a tiny favor handled tonight. I’m throwing a barbecue for the neighbors, and I need you to grab a few supplies on your way home from work.”

He didn’t respond for a minute, and I grinned despite my mood because one of Cruz’s and my favorite games was trying to get Gage to laugh at work. The FBI was far too stuffy as an organization. He needed an outlet after dealing with them all day.

There was a faint sound on the other end of the line—like someone clearing their throat a little too forcefully.

“Well, sweetheart,” Gage finally replied, his voice overly polite in a way that meant he was absolutely fighting the urge to crack a chuckle, “just text me the address, and I’ll make sure I pick that up for you.”

There was a suspicious hitch at the end of the sentence, and I pictured him physically swallowing a laugh.