Page 43 of Devil’s Disciples

“Uh huh.”

“You’re pretty pale for a Brazilian,” I said, as if I could argue her claim.

She rubbed her forearm. “I use sunscreen and try to stay out of the sun as much as possible. If not, I’d be pretty dark.”

I stroked my beard, and then forced a smile. “Interesting.”

Fuck.

The last thing I needed was to be on the shit list of a Brazilian woman with an explosive temper. The problems she could bring into my life were huge. Then, there was Cash. If she simply came to my office to call me a cocksucker and he recognized her, it would be disastrous for her – and me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Based solely on my fear that she’d react in a manner comparable to how Natalia acted with Cash, I decided not to end our relationship. I needed more time to think. There had to be a way I could leave her and save the repercussions. I simply needed to figure out what it was.

I needed to remain in her good graces – at least for the time being. Feeling oddly relieved with my decision not to end our mid-day sex sessions, I exhaled a breath of relief and crossed my ankles. “The other day, the regional manager said you had bad news. I forgot to ask what it was.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Regional manager?”

“The old man that drives the truck.”

“Oh, Mort.” She leaned onto the edge of her desk and wrung her hands together. “I was excited to tell you, but we started boning and I forgot.”

“So, what’s the news?”

“3-A.” She faked a pout. “It’s no longer available.”

I had no interest in moving into the apartment, but she certainly didn’t know it. I clapped my hands together. “That’s great!”

“But wait,” she said. “It gets better.”

I widened my eyes in more false excitement. “Really?”

She pushed herself away from the desk and crossed her arms. “Guess who’s moving in?”

“I’d hate to try.”

“Seriously. Guess.”

“Ben Harper?”

She laughed. “The musician?”

“What do you know about Ben Harper?”

“I know that Diamonds on the Inside is what most would describe as his best album, but I disagree. I think The Will to Live is much better. Not everyone likes live albums, though.”

I stared at her in sheer disbelief. Ben Harper was one of my all-time favorite musicians. For her to have heard of a lesser known musician such as him, and to like him, was a shock.

“So, it’s not Ben Harper?” I asked jokingly.

“Back up,” she said. “How do you even know who he is?”

I crossed my arms and gave her a look. “How do you know who he is?”

“I listen to his music, that’s how.”

I looked her over. Her hair was a little lighter than normal, and I liked the new shade. I cocked my head to the side. “Who else do you listen to?”