But the little girl-dog ran out of steam more than a couple of blocks before. And taking pity, I’d picked her up in order to complete my goal.
Pulling the camera away, my eyes followed the line of her nose, to where her barks were directed. Actually, since her daddy’d dropped her off, the tiny one hadn’t displayed any strong emotion (a fact, I was grateful for), until now. And at the way she took umbrage at the two men across the street (ones I’d decided would be edited out of my final photo), was annoying. I couldn’t get a good shot with her quivering and yaps destroying my normally level-handed, steady grip on my camera.
“Shut the hell up, honey,” I whispered. The light was perfect, highlighting the large bricks adorning the façade of Grantham’s first civic building of note. “It’s just two guys doing their freakin’ business, one that doesn’t concern us in the least, okay?”
But it was then, just at the moment I’d completed my sentence in order to calm my canine boarder, one of the guys looked my way. Spearing me with a glance so full of venom, I bobbled my camera, dropping it to hang on its tether around my neck.
I didn’t know him, didn’t remember ever seeing him before but there was something about his narrow-eyed glare that threatened, and made my heart trip before it began to race. There was no denying he scared me with nothing but the way he stared from across the street.
Then he took a step towards me. A step of intent. A step my body reacted to before my brain kicked in with an explanation.
He wanted to…
I didn’t care to finish the rest of that sentence, preferring instead to just get gone. Just as fast as my short legs could carry me and the fluff-ball away.
“S-so…how about a coffee from Buxby’s, little girl?” To say I was freaked out was to be kind, because the truth of it was, I couldn’t turn back to look without putting a hand to Dyckson’s Vacuum and Sewing Machine’s window to keep me on my feet. And the fact I felt the need to keep glancing over my shoulder at the man as I urged myself to walk faster?
Yeah.
No.
His continued look freaked me right the fuck out. But he didn’t move very fast, kept glancing between me and traffic as if looking to cross the street and I counted that as a freakin’ win.
Pookie knew it too. Shutting right the hell up and pointing her face down the block as I carried her away just as fast as my wooden limbs would move, while she kept glancing to me and then stretching her neck to look behind us. Careening around the corner, my heels skittering on the sidewalk did nothing to calm me, other than to prevent my glance from going over my shoulder as I continued on, heading straight for the neon sign of my local coffee house.
Barreling through the first set of doors, I raced to the counter, my eyes madly searching the crowd for someone (anyone!) I knew. But as the counter hit my stomach, my gaze shot to Greg, the manager and purported co-owner (as well as one of my one-time lovers who I’d kicked out of my bed and life after a very unsuccessful attempt of finding some sort of bliss on his mattress after a few drinks when we were both eighteen).
“Vons? What’s doing, girl?” His question sounded out of kilter, way too calm while I was still riding the adrenaline of panic.
I shook my head, breath panting and chest heaving from my escape. The little fur-ball in my arms made much more sense with her tiny, trembling ‘arf’ than I did in that moment. “Greggie…”
Fuck. I hated this. Hated I was turning to a guy I’d known since grade school, an ass-wipe of the first order, as some sort of protector against, what? A stranger who’d given me a not-so-nice-look when I’d taken his freaking picture?
“Erm…I’ll take a tall, double shot, cocoa-caramel latte with whip,” I murmured through frozen lips, quelling at the sound of my own shaky voice.
“And you’ll take it after I serve the other four people in front of you,” Greg said firmly, turning away from me and the tiny canine in my arms to the next person in a line I hadn’t even noticed. “But only if you ditch the dog. Health inspector says no animals except on the outside patio.”
“But…” I started, yet unable to argue against his edict without admitting to being simply scared. As for Greg? Yeah, that kind of confession would soon become ammunition, I knew. “Okay. Thanks.”
I should’ve sucked him off as he’d pleaded for me to do in our senior year. Maybe then he would’ve rushed to my aid when I couldn’t even begin to describe the fear I felt from some guy who’d only glared my way when I was innocently taking snaps. But I hadn’t. And instead just acquiesced to his then immediate demand to freaking get into his herd-like line.
“We don’t allow animals in here, and you know that,” he announced loudly, interrupting the complicated order of the customer in front of him when I didn’t immediately do his bidding. “Take your furry friend out to the patio. I’ll have someone bring your coffee outside.”
My lips parted as my eyes wildly looked around at Greggie’s signs and proclamations of being the BEST Coffee House in GRANTHAM, as if they would somehow make him and his business skirt the county’s health inspection rules…but found nothing to support my hope. So, without any other choice, I clutched the Pookster to my chest and made for the door.
“It’s okay, baby,” I crooned in measured pants, but even I recognized the tremble of the uneasiness in my voice as my eyes shot from side to side trying to determine who was, or rather what, wasn’t on my side. I mean, there had been no clear threat made, but that dude’s stare…
When we hit the door, my eyes frantically searched all the outside tables through the large windows. They were filled with the last of Grantham’s tourists who’d decided to partake of the different levels of hiking trails. People sporting carefree tans, enjoying the last of the Colorado short summer as they sipped or gulped the concoctions Greg and staff created.
But at least I didn’t see him, the guy who’d given me the look that’d found both me and Pookie freaking spooked out of our minds. And, yeah. I could totally tell the sweet, fluff-ball in my arms was just as upset as me. Not only by her trembles (or were they mine?), but by the way she kept pointing her face up at me, her eyes going wide to the point I could see the whites surrounding them.
Stumbling two steps out of Greggie’s plate glass door, I dropped my ass into the first empty seat, the table before me littered with napkins and a variety of cups. Threading my fingers into Pookie’s fur, scratching softly, I attempted to soothe her even as I tried to calm myself enough so I could think clearly. After a few moments of us both taking comfort from one another, I finally managed to take a full, deep breath.
And for some oddly weird reason, found myself thinking of Rio and wishing…
I shook my head to stop the rest of that thought, but I think my little companion caught a glimmer of what was in my head.
Because the look she gave me I took as one of agreement.
*.*.*.*.*
After meeting with the prospective BI customer, now a client confirmed by the signed contract in his hand, Rio shucked out of his suit coat and threw it in the back seat before yanking at his tie.
Christ, but he hated wearing that shit. But his too-confining, fancy-assed apparel was the only problem he’d encountered in his first authorized act as a manager for Black Ice. Admittedly, he’d initially been a little nervous, feeling like he was play-acting at being some kind of hot-shot security expert. But the more the client outlined his needs and requirements, the pieces of what the man was looking for fell into place and Rio forgot his nerves and was able to speak frankly, correcting the man on certain issues and providing better solutions for others.
But he had to admit, when Mr. Rodriguez signed on the dotted line even though Rio hadn’t been able to answer all his questions, he’d felt good. Proud, even.
Pulling out his phone, Rio got behind the steering wheel of the Jeep and called Max with the news.
After receiving congratulations, Rio wasted no time addressing the two issues he hadn’t been able to answe
r. “Rodriguez asked for the names of the specialists who’ll be assigned to his close protection crew.” When Max didn’t immediately answer, Rio jumped to the second item. “And wanted to know the exact cost for the project.”
“I’ve got DB running some numbers based on what other firms are charging. Once she has them I’ll see if I can get Cruz or somebody to put together a formal quote,” Max grunted. “As for the names of the crew? That’s your area, Cloud. You hired anybody yet?”
“Fuck, Herc! When’ve I had the time? You just gave me the damn job yesterday, for Christ’s sake.” Some of the pride Rio had held leaving Rodriguez’s office began to fade. He may have signed the client but unless he could provide the men needed, the contract meant jack-shit.
“Then I guess you’ll need to get on that pretty fucking fast, amigo.” Max’s voice held an edge of rueful laughter. “Listen, I’ve got client and supplier meetings in Cali tomorrow and Thursday, but Friday I need you in the office by ten for the weekly staff meeting. If anything comes up before that, contact DB. She’ll know how to get hold of me.”
Rio’s eyebrows rose at Max’s words and went even higher at the man’s tone. His former Ranger brother almost sounded…professional or something. Like the head of a real company that was kicking ass and taking names later. “Okay. But how should I go about finding men for the close protection assignments? Does Grantham have a Bodyguards R Us store or something?”
“That’s your problem, slick. Just make sure when you sign them, everything is legal and above board. From the signed job apps to the paperwork for Uncle Sam, we need it all so I can have Ryker pull their credit reports and do background checks. Understand?”
Yep, Rio did. Black Ice wasn’t gonna cut corners or work the shady side of the street to become a success. “Roger that,” Rio replied firmly.
But as he started his vehicle, Rio realized the assurance he’d given Max was nothing but empty words until he figured out a way to locate men with the experience and balls to do what needed to be done. He ran through and rejected a lot of ideas as he drove back to the hotel, idly aware of his growing frustration with not only how to start building a base of contracted bodyguards but also at the early-evening Denver traffic.
One thing the trip had reinforced... he absolutely didn’t want to live in a big city. As nice as Denver was, the noise, the volume of people and the traffic set his nerves on edge. Simply driving to the client’s place of business had his senses on high alert, making him feel hyper-aware and edgy.
Almost taking him back to the hot, dusty third world country where a micro-second lapse of attention could and would cost a soldier his life.
It was relief to finally arrive back at the hotel, get to his room to peel himself out of his stifling suit. Replacing his business attire with a well-worn pair of jeans and a vintage Harley t-shirt helped to reduce his anxiety and tension more than he could’ve imagined. And was performed with more than a couple of audible sighs.
After ordering dinner from room service, Rio checked his phone hoping Vonnie had sent a couple more of pics and texts. And he wasn’t disappointed, watching the short vid of PK in what appeared to be a park, chasing birds and sniffing at everything while looking back at the camera every few seconds. The fact the video included the sound of the spitfire crooning encouragement to his pooch didn’t hurt either. The woman gave him smart-ass but talked sweet to his dog, and as he reviewed the thirty second movie for the fifth time, Rio realized he couldn’t wait to hear her croon for him as well.
Preferably when they were both naked and horizontal.
Without giving himself a chance to think it over, Rio pressed the call button on the text screen. “Vonnie? Rio here.”
There was the brief sound of laughter, one of the snarky kinds that made him frown. “I know that, genius. Caller ID, remember?”
Shit. Fifteen seconds in and she already thought he was an ass. An ignorant one. “I just wanted to check in and see how you and PK did today. How did everything go?”
There was a pause of about two heartbeats before she answered. “Fine. Good.”
Was that it? Was that all she was going to give him?
“How was your day, Mr. Ironcloud? If that’s really your name.”
He blinked. Was she teasing him? “It is.”
“It sounds fake as hell.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Well, it’s the English translation of my paternal family’s Osage name.”
“You’re Native American?” Her voice held a note of astonishment and Rio was glad he’d been able to shock the little know-it-all.
“Partly. My mother was Italian-American.” As he spoke, his mind was filled with a clear image of his mom, her dark eyes flashing and thick black hair lifting in the Oklahoman wind. The memory caused a brief pang to shoot through his heart.
“Which would be the Desidario part, right?”
He was just about to answer her before she spoke again. “Wait! You said was, that your mom was Italian-American.”
He swallowed, surprised at the emotion that shot through him. “Yeah. Lost my folks and my grandfather a few years before I went into the service.”
There were a couple of beats of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not in the least.
“I’m an orphan too,” he heard her whisper.
He swallowed at the rawness of her breathy statement. “But you have your sister, correct? Ryker’s girl?”
He heard her swallow through their connection and suddenly wished they were in the same room so he could see her expression. Was she upset? Sad?
“I have five foster sisters and a foster mom named Diane,” she announced in a flat voice. “What branch of the service were you in?”
Her change in subject, done so fast and with a change in tone, left him a bit dizzy. “Army. Made it through RASP and became a snake-eater. Which is where I met Max.”
“You know I didn’t understand most of what you said, right?”
Reviewing his previous words, Max had to smile. Even though he’d been out for a while now, his mouth still spoke ‘military’ most of the time. “I’ll explain later. But going back to my original question, how did you and PK do today?”
“And I answered. We did fine. Everything was…good. Which you should’ve been able to tell from the pictures and texts I sent. You did view them, didn’t you? Because that’s what I use to let owners know how their pet is doing in my care.” Ah, there was the little spit-fire he was getting to know! “Although next time, you’re gonna have to provide the food.”
“I left you enough money to feed her, Vonnie!” Okay, maybe he’d gotten a little loud, but dammit, she better have sorted out the approved food on the list and fed his dog. “Don’t tell me she still hasn’t eaten because if that’s the case—”
“Cool it, soldier-boy,” she yelled right the hell back, loud enough it overrode his own bellow. “She ate. And pretty good too, if I do say so myself. But you should probably know…” Her voice wound down and Rio realized he didn’t have a clue what she was going to say. This was one of the best things about her—that she was so unpredictable, so different from any other female he’d ever encountered. “I can’t cook.”
Do what?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get that,” he managed to mutter, shaking his head to deny he’d actually heard what he’d thought she’d said. “Say again?”
“But my sister Tonya does. She brought over some leftovers from where she works and Pookie cleaned up.” Did he detect a note of defensiveness in Vonnie’s voice? Or was it just sheepishness?
“And where does this Tonya work?” His mind was racing through all the fast food places in Grantham, which thankfully were not many.
“The Roses.”
Jay-sus, his little fur-baby dined on food from the best restaurant in town. Even had it hand-delivered by one of the staff, for Christ’s sake! “We’ll talk about that when I get back tomorrow.”
That and a few other things, he decided with a h
ead nod of promise she could neither see nor hear.
This was probably a good thing.
Chapter Five
I was smiling when I hung up the phone and as soon as I caught myself, I tried to force it away. I didn’t want to like the man, not in any measurable way, shape or form, but I had to admit, he was growing on me.
Kinda like a fungus, I thought, letting the tiniest of giggles escape. Causing Pookie to lift her head from the nest of pillows, blanket and monkey I’d created on my sofa. “Yeah, it was your daddy. He tried to be a dick, but Aunt Von wouldn’t let him.”
Dropping my ass on the seat next to her, I reached for the remote as she climbed into my lap, her fluffy tail doing a slow sweep (which I took as happy, but tired). “Did I wear you out today? Sorry about that. But we got a lot done, didn’t we, baby? Yes, we did.”
Oops! I wasn’t supposed to do the baby-talk thingy according to her high-and-mighty master. But I wasn’t—technically. In baby talk, I would’ve spoken in a higher voice and changed every ‘r’ to a ‘w’ (sow-wee instead of sorry).
Nor was I supposed to call Tonya and ask if she could bring over any extra chicken or veggies she might have after her shift. Mainly because, from his oh-so detailed instructions, I knew Rio fully expected me to a.) Have that kind of food on hand and b.) Know how to cook that shit.
I could nuke things in the microwave (although that was debatable as evidenced by the amount of times I had to clean the inside of the unit from things exploding), cook canned soup on the stovetop and could even make toast (providing no one effed around with the settings as my foster-sister and former roommate, Phoebe, used to do—explaining sourdough bread needed a higher temp than just plain ol’ white).
But there was no denying it…I was a disaster in the kitchen.
And everyone within my closest circle knew it.
Yet Rio’s reaction to my itty-bitty, not-big-enough-to-mention defect was outrageous!
Vonnie: Book Two of Broken Girls Series Page 4
