Page 77 of South Beach Bodyguards

Going past a sofa I picked up a faux fur toss pillow and hurled it at him. Sixty. Twenty-four. Two. I was all ages.

He caught it.

Alejandro laughed.

And I tried not to feel like stabbing something, but failed.

seven

“So what’s your big plan?” Ricardo asked, sitting in the passenger seat of my Honda.

I should have made him get dressed but I had been running on adrenaline. Now I was going to have to deal with him in those black silk boxers, his chest smooth and silken, his junk flopping. Ricardo didn’t hit the gym and he didn’t seem to care. “Call your accountant.” I tossed him his phone as I drove. “Tell him to meet us at the bank so he can withdraw the money and give it to you.”

“Did it ever occur to you I don’t actually owe Benito dick?”

For a split second that gave me pause but then I knew he did. Benito wouldn’t take Olivia for revenge or to make a statement. It would be for money, pure and simple. Greed had driven him since we were kids. “Cut the crap. Just give him the money. It’s not like you don’t have it.”

“It wasn’t a fair deal.”

“I don’t need or want details. I just want this resolved. Now call your accountant. And then you need to make arrangements for Eva and Olivia to go somewhere safer than Miami.”

For the first time ever, Ricardo looked worried. “I don’t want anything to happen to Eva. I do love her. She’s a good wife.”

I notice he didn’t mention Olivia at all. I had the feeling there was no love lost between them. “That’s why you need to send her somewhere else, just in case. I think if you pay Benito back it will be the end of it, but you never know. Doesn’t your father has a bunch of houses in other cities?”

He nodded. “Telluride. Vegas. An apartment in New York.”

From a safety standpoint, I thought New York was the best bet. “Does the apartment in New York have a doorman?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’d send them there.” He may not be worried about Olivia, but I was. She was tough, and good at rolling with the punches, but she was no match for a bullet. “Where is your bank?”

Thirty minutes later we were sitting in the park, where there were no surveillance cameras, waiting for Benito. When he pulled in with a guard I got out of my car so he would see I wasn’t going to try anything. I went right over to his car and leaned down to talk to him. He was dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt but I didn’t doubt he and his guard were both armed. “Hey, what’s up?” I said. “Sorry about the chaos earlier.”

He shrugged. “No worries. I expected it.”

“I know. That’s why you let me leave with her.”

He smiled. “Exactly.” He eyed my arm, which had stopped bleeding, but was stiff and immobile. My suit jacket was hard and crusted from my blood. “You okay?”

“Just a flesh wound.” I used a British accent, a la Monty Python.

Benito laughed. “Glad to hear it. So you got my money or what?”

“Yes, it’s in the car. Do you want Ricardo or not?” I was guessing he didn’t. It was a gamble, but one I’d been willing to risk to get this whole situation resolved.

“It’s tempting, but not worth the risk.”

“He is in his underwear, so I don’t blame you for not wanting him.”

Benito made a face. “Dude, seriously?”

I forced a grin, even though I was sweating in my suit. Anxiety had been settled into my bones for twelve hours and I was running on nothing but adrenaline and willpower. I hated this shit. That’s why I had chosen to walk away from this world. “It ain’t pretty.”

“Back up, I’m coming out.”

I complied and Benito opened the door. “Is he cuffed?”

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