Page 72 of When Lies Unfold

“We just gotta keep our heads on a swivel, prepared for anythin’ he might try.” I cut him a glance. “How much of the special stuff was damaged?”

I’m referrin’ to the particular strain of marijuana we produce that’s become our golden ticket to rakin’ in the profits. The high off it is potent as hell, but its flowers are more medicinally beneficial than any other kind.

“A small portion, but nothin’ major.”

“Good.”

When he pauses, I tense. I’ve got a feelin’ he’s gonna switch up the conversation and who he’s gonna mention.

I’m proven right when he says, “You sure you know what you’re doin’? ’Cause I gotta say; I’m usually in step with you, but you’ve lost me in this charade.”

I ignore him, but I should know better than to think he’ll let this go.

“Bringin’ her to dinner tonight’s a big risk, and you know it.”

I know what he’s sayin’. If she overhears somethin’ and runs her mouth, it won’t be good for anybody. But my instinct’s tellin’ me she’s a safe bet.

The woman who rouses a wild animal’s protective instinct and gets a young girl to speak after two whole years of silence… There’s somethin’ there.

Instead of addressin’ Gordo’s concern, I tell him, “Need to get outta the last meetin’ we’ve got today.” At his questionin’ glance, I clarify. “Got plans with Alma.”

“Huh.” A pause. “Just Alma? Or Alma and Miss Arias?”

I’m spared from answerin’ when we reach the foyer and Luis heads toward us. “Boss, you got a minute to talk?”

Gordo says, “I’ll get the car pulled up,” before stridin’ off, so I step aside with Luis.

“What’s up?” My phone pings rapidly with incomin’ messages, and I withdraw it from my pocket. I’ve gotta make sure no last-minute changes or other emergencies have occurred.

Luis hesitates, glancin’ around before lowerin’ his voice. I’ve never witnessed him be anythin’ other than one hundred percent confident—until now. “I, uh, know you gave the command that we’re supposed to treat Lola like a guest now…”

I start typin’ a quick response to one of our contacts while I wait for Luis to fuckin’ ask his question.

“So, I wondered if it’d be okay if I, uh…asked her out sometime.”

My thumb freezes over the keypad. I slowly drag my eyes from my phone to rest on Luis. Every single molecule in my body violently riots against the idea of Luis and Lola datin’. Of them doin’ any fuckin’ thing together.

“You wanna date Miss Arias.” I restate this, not as a question, while purposely avoidin’ usin’ her first name so casually like he did.

He dips his chin in a nod. “Yeah, boss.” Almost boyishly, he shifts from one foot to the other, then drags a hand over his short hair. “I think we connected the other day.”

I stare at him for so long, his gaze darts from mine beneath the pressure before he forces it back. My brows rise a notch. “You…connected?”

With a shrug, he flashes a borderline shy smile. “She’s got a great sense of humor, and man, those nachos she made were top-notch, too.”

He thinks they “connected”? Swear to fuckin’ God, if they “connected” in any way similar to how we just did in my kitchen a minute ago, I’ll send a bullet through his brain.

He must sense the shift in my mood, ’cause he straightens his shoulders, his body not nearly as relaxed as it was initially.

“Miss Arias is off-limits.” The possessive quality in my voice is evident even to me, and I balk at it before hurriedly addin’, “For now—at least until she’s been properly vetted. There’re still a few things that need to be cleared up.”

A flicker of confusion crosses his features before he masks it. He nods. “Got it, boss.”

I step past him to where Gordo’s now waitin’ at the door. His mouth is twitchin’, and I know he overheard every fuckin’ word.

He at least waits until we’re alone in the vehicle to mention it. “Luis and Lola, huh?”

I don’t respond.

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