Page 15 of Great White
“I got an interesting phone call this morning.”
“Oh?” I come to stand in front of the two of them. “Do we need lawyers or muscle to deal with the problem?” I prepare myself for the bad news.
“Neither,” Stefania purrs. “Seems some friends of ours from New York have run into a little problem at the border and need our assistance. I thought you andGuapocould take care of it.”
I curl my lip. “Why can’t I just take care of it?”
“You know why.”
That answer could mean multiple things. She could just simply want me to show him the ropes. Introduce him to our contacts, get his face familiar with ourteam. Those in the streets as well as those on our payroll. If he’s going to be in the game, he needs to learn the players and the rules. She could also just be taunting me. She’s been needling me ever since she laid eyes on him. Like she’s trying to play an annoying game of matchmaker, if nothing more than a physical encounter, but I’m adamant about not shitting where I eat. Whereas Stefania has never had a problem sleeping with the help.
She believes her feminine wiles keep some men loyal, and maybe they do. No one has dared betray her.
I’m more of a fear and intimidation monger myself. To date, no one has betrayed me either.
“What’s the issue?” I ask, worrying unwanted ears are listening, but void of proof.
“A large shipment of sugar was confiscated at the border. It put a dent in our friends’ bakery business, and they need more, immediately. They have bakers on their way.” She didn’t provide many more details than that, which was enough for me, and if by chance you weren’t following, sugar is cocaine, and the bakers are our buyers.
* * *
An hour later,Tate and I are climbing into a cocaine-loaded, white SUV with tinted windows. We’re dressed according to Stefania’s specifications. Gone are my leather pants, black wrist cuffs and dark, heavy eye makeup. In their place are skinny jeans, a diamond tennis bracelet, and a fresh-faced look. She knows how much I hate this persona. Tate doesn’t look much different, still wearing his signature plaid shirt and blue jeans. His face is clean-shaven, and he’s sporting a brand-new white Stetson. Courtesy of Stefania. With those damn good looks, he could pass easily for a Lucchese boot model.
We are the clean-cut couple she was aiming for. Unassuming, ordinary, uninteresting. Just a pair of lovers on a road trip.
Ick.
I could have done this on my own, but when the boss says she wants something done a certain way, we do it.
“Road trip.” Tate pops his eyebrows at me, eager to get going. I roll my eyes from the passenger seat. This isn’t a pleasure cruise; this is business. I wish he would act like it. “Should we hold hands?” He places his hand palm up on the armrest. I stare down at it with disdain.
“Don’t think I’m touching you.”
“We need to play the part.” He insists.
“We look the part, that’s enough.” I stare straight ahead.
“Suit yourself, darlin’. You’ll come around.” Tate throws the car into drive, and we head out.
Doubtful.
The drive from El Paso, Texas, to El Reno, Oklahoma, is a little over ten hours. Which will be just about a three-day trip for us.Joyous. Eight-hour drive today, rest, two more hours tomorrow. A drop, then another six hours back. Rest. The third day, the last four hours home. That’s a lot of time in close quarters with Tate.
I hope I don’t kill him.
The first two hours into the drive are uneventful. Tate tries to make small talk, but I ignore him, playing with my phone and the radio. I’m not in the mood for civilities.
I’m annoyed at the way I look and the company I have to keep. I could have taken care of this on my own. I’m cursing Stefania.
“Is it that you don’t like all people, or is it just me?” Tate takes it upon himself to ask.
“I don’t like most people, and I especially don’t like you,” I grace him with an answer.
“Is it something I’ve said?”
“It’s just you, in general.”
“You barely know me.”
