Page 34 of Cartel Devil
She winces at whatever he says. She’s quiet for a moment before responding.
“I was out with Sera, now I’m headed home… No, I’m not with her now… No, I’m not taking the subway. I’m with a friend.”
Ouch.
Friend zone.
I suppose it’s better than her saying in a taxi or rideshare. She isn’t exactly lying, and I haven’t been demoted to chauffeur.
“I haven’t heard anything about that. Can I call you in the morning?”
Of course, I’m curious now. Her father’s Boston Mafia, so whatever her father wants to know intrigues me. Maybe it has nothing to do with NYC, but no one in a syndicate likes an outsider asking about something happening in their city. I remain quiet while Tre ends the call.
“Sorry about that.”
“No worries.”
That sounds so utterly stupid coming from me. People say I’m so uptight because all I do is worry.
“About the other night—”
“When we were at the movies—”
I was about to apologize for being so heavy-handed, but Tre spoke when I did.
“Sorry. Go ahead.” I want to hear what she has to say about the other night.
“I don’t think I thanked you for coming to check on us. If I didn’t, I apologize. I should have.”
“I was more abrasive than I meant to be. I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
“You didn’t—”
“Yes, I did. You didn’t touch the popcorn, and you were tense until the last ten minutes.”
I glance over at her, and she’s watching me. I’m certain it unnerves her to know I was paying that much attention to her.
“I was still a little shaken up.”
“I saw what you did to her. Knowing that’s how you handled her kept me from panicking tonight.”
“You panicking? Right.”
She scoffs at me, and I grip the steering wheel tighter. She doesn’t believe me, and that’s because I’ve been an asshole every time we’re together.
“A fight broke out around us. Of course, I was panicking. I wanted you safe and out of there. Just because you can defend yourself doesn’t mean you should have to.”
She remains quiet, and I fear she thinks I was only worried because Toria would chew me a new one if something happened to her friend. I want to tell her I admire her calm under pressure. That I respect her skills. That I’m proud she stood up for herself and her friend. That I’m impressed by how she takes everything in stride. Everything about her makes me want to get to know her more. Everything about her draws me to her.
But I’m too chicken shit to say any of that. Instead, I have a crush on her like some bumbling teenage boy who can’t speak around a pretty girl.
I can speak to women about anything if it’s work—Cartel or legit. I can even make casual conversation when I have to. But I’m tongue-tied around the one woman I want to talk to.
“I really do appreciate that, Joaquin. Seeing you was a surprise. A pleasant one.”
I nod as I pull up to her building. I watch her unfasten her seat belt. Belatedly, I realize I should’ve said it was a pleasure too.
Why are you such an utter buffoon around her now?
