Fake Marriage Box Set

I nodded. "Where's your friend?"

"Ginny?" Corsica asked. Her smile disappeared. "She went to a bar in Chinatown with her co-workers after I told her I was taking a cab home."

"Allen will be disappointed," I said.

"Allen?" Corsica brightened.

"The bouncer. I think he might be head over heels."

"The giant outside? Oh, Ginny would love him," she said as she glanced at the doors.

I grinned. "I want to be there when you tell him. Big man falls hard."

"Let me just ask the bartender to call me a cab first," Corsica said. "My phone died."

I glanced down the bar and saw Rita sloshing two drinks towards a couple. Then she wiped her hands and fluffed up her hair. If Rita got to Corsica, she'd hang on and flirt with her. It would only take Rita a few minutes to read my reactions, and then I would never hear the end of it.

"Actually, I've got a car waiting outside. It's yours if you want." I stood up and offered Corsica my arm.

She smiled and slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow. "So, you really are a white knight?"

I ignored Rita's flailing gestures and headed with Corsica towards the front doors. "I don't like how common courtesy has become as rare as chivalry," I said.

Allen opened the doors for us with an entirely too wide smile. "Good to see you again, m'lady," he said.

"Sounds like her friend has a crush on you," I said to shut him up.

Allen gaped and Corsica laughed as he stammered to her about maybe calling Ginny if she wouldn't mind giving him her number.

I was glad they were both distracted because at that moment, Joshua stepped out of a black town car. He sneered at me and looked for an opening to call Corsica over.

I hated to use my influence since I didn't want Corsica to see, but I directed the valets with a nod. They jumped up and directed Joshua's driver to move along. He argued immediately, and Allen's team, a pair of off-duty police officers almost the same towering size as him, encouraged Joshua to get back in his vehicle.

Within seconds, Joshua was cleared out, and my Maserati slid into place. My driver, a juvenile delinquent that could handle any car better than the best, stepped out and gave me a jaunty salute. I whipped out my phone and texted quickly how he better keep his mouth shut no matter what I said.

"You're letting Tom Thumb drive the Maserati?" Allen asked.

Corsica's mouth dropped open as she saw the silver sports car. Tom whipped open the back door and grinned. "That's your car?" she asked.

"My boss's car," I lied.

"And who's Tom Thumb?" she asked.

"Only the biggest car thief in the Bay Area," Allen muttered.

"He's just a kid," she pointed out.

"A kid with a rap sheet longer than the Golden Gate Bridge," Allen boomed. "And he better remember that his ass is on the line no matter how nice Penn is to him."

Corsica laughed when Tom blew Allen a kiss.

"He was a car thief," I admitted. "I met him when he stole my, I mean, my boss's car right out from under Allen's post."

"That can't really be his name," Corsica said.

"Street name for a street rat," Allen mumbled.

"Not many people get the drop on Allen," I explained as I led Corsica towards the Maserati.