Page 10 of Property of Bob

I closed my eyes.

“You son of a bitch,” I whispered.

“What?” somebody asked.

Another man frowned. “Who the fuck is Ashland Moore?”

Prime looked like Christmas had come early. “Bob.”

The room exploded.

“No fucking way.”

“Bob’s name is Ashland?”

“Ashland?”

A man near the pool table started laughing so hard he had to put his beer down.

I pointed at Prime. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Very.”

“Asshole.”

“I told you I was telling them.”

“Technically, you said you were thinking about how long you were going to wait.”

“I decided.”

“Clearly.”

A man near the doorway wasn’t laughing.

He watched me with a steady expression while everyone else enjoyed Bob’s apparently humiliating legal name.

There was something about him that made me think he was the one in charge before Prime walked over to him.

“Anchor.”

Yep.

That sounded like the guy in charge.

Anchor glanced at Prime.

“This is Ramona Hill. Says she’s known Bob since high school,” Prime explained.

The room got quieter.

Anchor looked at me.

I lifted one hand. “Hi.”

“High school?”

“Yes.”