Page 64 of Devil’s Disciples

“I’m probably not the best to be giving advice.”

I finished my beer and wiped my forehead on my arm. “Give me what you’ve got.”

“You’re wanting her to think you’re in it for all the right reasons, even though you’re not?”

I picked at the label on my beer bottle. “Correct.”

“But you’re not?”

I looked up. “Not what?”

“Not in it for the right reasons.”

I began to pick at the label again. “Correct.”

“Women want to be treated with respect. Making them feel special is always a pretty big hit. You know, telling them you like something about what they’re wearing or how their hair is fixed. They like being told the truth, being able to trust the man they’re with, and feeling like he can protect her from every shit hat that might threaten her. Candy, cards, and flowers might be what Hallmark leads you to believe makes ‘em happy, but it ain’t the answer. Handing a woman a card and a box of chocolate doesn’t aggravate matters, but it doesn’t make ‘em as happy as cooking dinner.”

“Sounds easy enough. Short of the cooking, all I’ve got to do is be me.”

“Don’t lie to her, either. Whatever you tell her, make sure it’s at least close to the truth. If not, and she finds out you’re full of shit, Little Miss Bank Manager is going to turn and run.”

“Andy.”

His eyes went thin. “Huh?”

“Andy. Her name’s Andy.”

He erupted in laughter. After damned near choking to death on the beer he coughed up, he wiped the tears from his eyes and shook his head. “That’s hilarious.”

“What? That she’s got a dude’s name?”

“Nope.” He took a drink of beer and shook his head. “We were planning the robbery and you said Andy. Ghost said who’s Andy. You said I said Reno. You know what? I thought you said Andy. Now I know. You said Andy. Sounds like this girl’s got you by the balls.”

“Nobody’s got me by the balls.”

He looked me over and then smirked.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and nodded toward his beer. “Got any more of those?”

He chuckled. “Be right back.”

He returned with four beers in a bowl of ice. After handing me one of them, he sat down. “You prepared to go the distance with this girl?”

I twisted the lid off the bottle of beer and bent it between my thumb and forefinger. “What do you mean?”

“What if something develops between both of you? You going to be able to lie to her about the job for the rest of your life?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Goose,” I snapped back. “We’re not getting married.”

He tilted his beer bottle toward me. “She’s on your mind, no arguing that.”

“She’s got a pussy like a vise,” I said. “She’s fun to fuck.”

“They’re all fun to fuck.”

“She’s different.”

He rocked his chair onto the back legs. “Here we go. Now comes the truth.”