“I can’t force her to do anything, least of all listen,” Benny mutters, looking at his other phone.
“Is that Mr. Citrus Grove talking shit after kidnapping my friend? Call me on video, Bianca.”
“Use my computer.” Benny moves around his desk, which is the same color as the recessed bookshelves in the aged brick walls. Standing bookcases tuck his office area into the back of his study.
He leans over my shoulder to type a password. Spice and citrus skate across my neck, tickling my nostrils. He chuckles at my whiff and kisses my temple.
“The line is secure, though I wouldn’t encourage you two to be loud.”
“Us, loud?” I gasp, hand to my cleavage, cleavaging in this sundress.
“Behave.”
“That look might scare men, but you’ve gotta come harder than that with me, crime boss.” I wink and dial Stephanie’s number.
Her grin widens.
“Steph.”
“You areglowing.“ She beams, thick black curls spiraling down her scrubs. “I’m concerned about the kidnapping, but whatever this is, keep it. The braids are cute.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you good for real, or do I need to bake a cake?”
I laugh at Benny’s frown. “No, dummy.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t get tied up in some dungeon,” Stephanie huffs.
“There was an area rug,” Benny says, thumbs scrolling his phone.
“You know those rich people get weird with their basements.” Steph’s face sours. “Remember Kevin? Just eating arms and legs, looking like he sells Bibles on the weekend.”
“Stop watchingSin City!“ I cackle.
She snickers. “Elijah Wood played that role a little too well, with his hobbit ass.”
We burst out laughing. Steph slides down her chair and adjusts her wig when it tilts to the side. Tears scald my eyes.
“Bianca is alive and well,” Benny announces over our hollering. “She’ll be in touch.” He motions for me to wrap the call up but gets a side-eye.
“Anyway. How’s your contract going?” I ignore Benny. He might run businesses, but he’s not running this conversation.
Stephanie groans. “Bitch.”
“That bad?”
She drags a hand down her face. “I might let myself get kidnapped if it means peace in the sun.”
I suck my teeth real slow. “Make sure he lets you enjoy a vacation, doesn’t steal the batteries out of the remote, or tell you to pretend to be a mafia don.”
“Girl, what?” Stephanie’s cackle shakes the badge clipped to her chest.
Benny snaps his fingers. “Up.”
“Don’t rush me,” I scold.
“Stealing batteries out of the remote is diabolical.” Stephanie snorts. “Why you picking on my friend, Citrus Grove?”
