I can hear someone typing on their computer. “What’s the company name? I want to look it up.”
“Nosy much?” The other designer laughs.
“Look, Val is over there living my damn dream. Let me ask my questions.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “I don’t know.”
“What’d you say?” Bri asks.
“I don’t know the name of it.” I sigh and set my coffee down. “Remember that whole drunken marriage thing? I didn’t exactly plan this.” I ignore the pang in my chest as I say that. It’s not a lie. I didn’t plan any of this. “We weren’t strangers, but we’re not connected on LinkedIn or anything like that.”
As soon as I say it, I regret it because I know what the next question is going to be.
“What’s his name? I’ll look him up.” The nosy marketing girl is already tapping her keyboard, and I know there’s no way for me to avoid giving them a name.
A good woman can change your life.
Time for me to lean all the way in.
“I married Dominic Gonzalez.”
The other designer has her coffee cup against her lips, taking a drink, and I watch as she jerks, sloshing dark liquid down her shirt.
The girl who was ready to search him on LinkedIn has her hands still hovering over the keyboard, not typing.
And Bri… Bri’s mouth is all the way open.
“So…” I awkwardly break the silence.
“Wait.” The second marketing girl glances around at everyone’s expressions. “Why does everyone know who that is? Is he like a big-time Chicago guy or something? I just moved here.”
Bri clears her throat. “Jesus Christ, I thought he looked familiar.”
I lift my shoulders. “He’s really nice.”
I want to hit myself. He’s really nice. What a dumb thing to say about a crime lord.
Keyboard clicks fill the audio.
“Oh damn, is that him? He is fine,” second marketing girl says to herself. “Oh, here, he’s head of the…” She trails off, and I want to press my hands to my cheeks so badly.
She thought she found his company name, as in head of finance for, but I know what it says because I did a search for him just yesterday.
Dominic Gonzalez, suspected head of the Chicago mafia crime syndicate.
She starts to giggle.
A lot.
“Sorry.” She slaps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she says again, muffled this time.
And then Bri starts to laugh. And nosy marketing girl starts.
And then the other designer, who is wiping her coffee-covered hands onto her already ruined shirt, snorts. “Fuck, Val. Why are you even on this call?”
The smile that had started to form on my face falters. “What do you mean?”
Does she not want to work with me now?
She rolls her eyes. “Do you have any idea how rich that man is?”
Bri gestures toward her computer screen. “Look where she’s sitting. I’m pretty sure she knows.”
I glance around the condo like maybe it’s changed.
I hadn’t really thought about it until this moment. But if I stay with Dominic, then they’re right, I really don’t need this job.
I lift a shoulder. “I like working.”
It’s not a lie. I do like my job. I wouldn’t say I love it, but I’m good at it. And it’s good to feel productive. And I’ve worked since I was fourteen. I don’t know what I’d do with myself all day if I didn’t have a job.
First marketing girl raises her hand. “Well, I don’t like working. So if you’re ever looking to turn your duo into a throuple, just let me know. I’d love a sugar daddy.”
“I don’t share.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“Damn.” Bri drags the word out. “Sounding like a member of the family already.”
CHAPTER 32
Dom
“How is there nothing?” I turn away from the screens Joey is manning and pace across the bare floor.
“If the dumbass hadn’t forgotten his phone at home, this would be easier,” Joey grumbles and turns to a different display.
“Well, his mistakes and troubles are over.” I grit my teeth.
The hits have been spaced out nearly a month apart. And other than our men dying of lead poisoning, there’s nothing connecting the crime scenes. They’re not even using the same type of bullets.
We’ve been able to find the cars used for the first three, all stolen from random parking lots and all with tinted windows, so even when we find them on traffic cams, there’s no way to identify who’s inside.