Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“He’s not the only one,” Shanti said under her breath, referring to Javi.
I let out a huge sigh, and thankfully, Jessie was shouting so she didn’t hear Shanti.
“I need a special, Tex!”
“It’s coconut,” I told her.
“I need something other than the special, Tex!” she amended, again in a shout.
“What are you girls’ problems with coconut?” Tex boomed.
Since we knew he didn’t really want an answer, because he didn’t really care, we didn’t answer.
Raye, Luna and Willow got done making sure their tables were cool, and like he could see through walls, Tex lumbered into view about the time they took their stations across from Shanti, Jessie and me.
He went behind the bar and plopped down two coffees, one in front of Jess, the other, me.
Silently, Tito crept up beside him.
Interesting.
That was new. Usually, Tito left us to our crazy, and left Tex to his too.
BTW: Tito was the antithesis of Tex. Where Tex was loud, Tito barely spoke at all. Where Tex was tall, imposing and mostly wore flannels and jeans (even in the Phoenician heat), Tito was short and looked like a surfer-dude Santa Claus (and he always, but always wore sunglasses, when he was inside or out). They both had beards, longish hair, more than a hint of a belly and were close to the same age. But that was where the similarities ended.
“No lip,” Tex ordered Jessie and me after he put down our mugs. “You get what you get.”
I lifted my cup to my lips, took a sip and smiled.
Delicious.
His signature, the Textual, cherry almond mocha.
My favorite.
“You’re the best,” I said to Tex.
“Shut it, Peewee,” he replied (see what I mean about the crotchety?). “What’s this I hear about some guy you had dinner with last night getting a necklace no one wants?”
Another bit of intel about our gang.
News traveled fast.
Also, Peewee was my nickname from Tex. I wasn’t actually short. I was five six. But since Tex was around six four, that made me seem small to him (I guessed).
And Javi was at least a full foot taller than me.
Hmm.
Tex snapped his fingers in my face, calling, “Hello?”
“I didn’t have dinner with him,” I shared. “I tried to have dinner with him because he and his friend are ripping off women they meet on dating apps. But Javi muscled in and blew my cover, of a sort.”
Tex’s heavy brows formed a heavier line. “You two still circling each other?”
“No, we’re done with that,” I said.
His brows darted up. “You two got together?”
“No. We’re just not ever going to get together.”
Shanti made a noise.
Luna did too.
Raye studied her fingernails.
“I thought you didn’t do girl talk,” Jess remarked to Tex.
“Just to say, I got experience with this shit too,” Tex began, then he homed in on me. “And I’ll say to you what I said to my girls in Denver. I don’t know why you women fight it. These are good men. Javier Montoya is as solid as they come.”
He so was, solid in his opinions and his ability to share them.
Yuck.
Whatever.
“Okay, today, I don’t do girl talk,” I declared.
Shanti made a noise.
Luna did too.
Raye studied her shoes.
Jessie said, “Moving on.”
“That’s it? These men are robbing their dates?” Tex asked.
“That was it, until Trev got that necklace,” Raye answered.
Tex blew out a breath, and it was so big, my hair wafted back. “Things have been chill with you girls. I haven’t had to build a bomb or pull out my grenades. Not once. That’s the sweet spot. Men turning up dead a few hours after your fake date goes south isn’t close to that sweet spot.”
He could say that again.
“Have we contacted Clarice or Arthur?” I asked.
“Yes, both,” Raye answered. “No word from either, yet.”
“Titus?” Jessie queried.
“I didn’t think about Titus,” Raye said.
Luna pulled her phone out of her apron. “I’ll drop a line to Titus.”
We met Titus on our last mission. He was the bomb. Super sweet. Very handsome. I wasn’t sure what his occupation was, but on the streets, he was known as a fixer. Not like a Quentin Tarantino one. Like the kind who got people who were shooting each other to stop shooting each other.
And he had the best man cave in history.
I hoped we got to go back.
“I hate to say this, but it’d probably be good if Willow had a meet with Kevin,” Raye said carefully. “We need to get as much information out of him as we can so we can make sure none of this leaks into Willow’s life.” Raye turned to Willow. “I know that sounds strange, asking you to meet him when we don’t want his shit screwing with you, but right now, you’re our best bet to find out what’s going on.”
“That isn’t happening unless I’m there,” Shanti decreed.
“We can make that work,” Jessie said.
“He did ask to come over tonight,” Willow told us.