too crowded, and I made it back home in record time. A half hour later, Bridgett was in the car with me and headed back to my apartment. Ten minutes after we arrived, she was giving me head, and I was finally starting to relax a little.
That night I got some real sleep. It was a good thing, too, because the call came a lot sooner than I expected.
“Hey there, Marshall!”
“Who’s this?” I asked, knowing full well who had called this particular cell phone number. There was only one person who had it.
“Jim Conner,” he said. “We met at the Embassy and talked football.”
“Raiders fan, right?”
“Yeah! That’s me!”
We both laughed a bit.
“So did you ever find another job?” he asked.
“Not yet,” I answered with a convincing sigh. “I had an interview a couple days ago, but it wasn’t very promising.”
“Are you still interested in some security work?”
“It would be my preference,” I said. “This last one I applied for was more usher than guard.”
“Well, I couldn’t really talk too much about it before,” Jim said, “but I might have an opportunity for you.”
“Really?” I smiled as I leaned back in my chair.
“Yeah,” he said. “I work for Brad Ashton – you know, the actor?”
“Yeah, I know him. Well, I know who he is, anyway.”
“As it turns out, we need a replacement security guy for an event coming up, and when he asked if we knew anyone, I remembered talking to you about needing a job. It’s not quite in time for the holidays, but you could start the first week of January. You interested?”
Too fucking easy.
All right, it wasn’t – there was a lot of work to make it happen, but it always felt good when it all came together perfectly.
Before I hung up the phone, I had a job lined up in Atlanta for just after the first.
There was just no way it could have gone more smoothly.
Chapter 5 – Tense Situation
“Ten minutes.”
“On my way.” I dropped my cell phone into my pocket, grabbed my Beretta, and shoved it into the side holster under my jacket. Three minutes later I was in the car and heading to Moretti’s office for an impromptu meeting that was suspicious to say the least.
In fact, he sounded a little panicked, and the boss never panicked.
It was the day after Christmas, and Rinaldo had just received a tip that Gavino Greco and three of his goons were on their way to his office. Mario Leone had been unexpectedly called away on personal business across town, and there was no way he would get back in time. I was close, though I was going to have to hurry.
My tires screeched as I rounded the corner, ditched the car – door still open – at the back entrance to Rinaldo’s office building, and rushed inside. I took the stairs two at a time, and drew my gun out as I got to the fourth floor.
I paused, took a calming breath, and then quickly opened the door to the hallway.
Left.
Right.