Page 7 of His Old Lady

He couldn't have her working at Riverside Bar. There was shit going down with the manager. No proof, but Tarkio was spending more time there, putting out feelers. Something wasn't right, and soon, they'd understand the situation better. In the meantime, he wanted her far away.

"You can't work at the bar," he said.

"I can, too. It's basically the same thing I did at the lounge."

"No."

She raised her chin. "You can't tell me—"

"I'll give you money to live off of until you can find a job closer to home." He pulled out his wallet. "Take what I have here. I'll get more in the morning."

"I don't want your money."

"Take it." He thrust his hand toward her.

"Put it on my uncle's account." She screwed on the top of her bottle of nail polish. "Or use it to buy new carpet. I don't need your money."

He lowered his hand to his side. When she went to sleep, he'd put the cash in her purse.

She exhaled softly and glanced at him, frowning. "I am sorry about the spill. I've painted my nails while sitting on every kind of furniture back home and had never had an accident before."

He ignored her apology. The nail polish wasn't his problem.

She whispered, "I didn't hear you come in the house. You startled me."

"Well, I'm here now," he muttered.

She inhaled swiftly. "You know what? I'm trying to be nice, but forget you even saw me. I'm going to walk over to Paco's house and wait there until he has my car checked out. And in the morning, I am going to take the job at Riverside Bar."

Faye walked away from him, apparently going to the bedroom to get ready to leave. He fisted his hands at the extra swish of her hips. What part of he'd take care of her had she not understood?

He strode down the hallway and went to the spare room. She held her bag and was in the process of wiggling her feet into her sneakers.

"Paco lives five miles away," he said

"I'm in good shape. I can walk that far."

"It's after midnight."

She ignored him and zipped up her bag.

"Go to bed, Faye." Tired and at the end of his day, all he wanted to do was hit the sack.

Her head came up, and she studied him. She could work her expression like nobody he knew, and it was clear what she thought of him at the moment.

He wasn't in the mood to argue with her. She belonged to him. If he wanted her to stay at the house, she would stay.

Faye's mouth pinched, and her head moved slightly on a slim neck. He walked out, unable to take that stubborn streak of hers always coming out. She couldn't let things be.

She couldn't forgive him.

And he couldn't forget.

Shutting himself in his bedroom, he grabbed the phone on the nightstand and dialed Priest.

"Yeah?" said Priest.

"I have a problem." He looked over at the door. "The manager at Riverside has an interview tomorrow morning with Faye. I know damn well, he'll hire her. That can't happen."

"I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

He hung the receiver on the phone and set it back on the nightstand. Stretching out on the mattress, he linked his hands together over his chest and stared up at the ceiling. All hell was going to break loose in the morning when Faye found out the job she counted on was no longer available.

---