Page 2 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

“Sorry guys. I actually have to cut you off after the beers. It's a policy.” I say politely.

“Fuck that! You’re a waitress not a policy enforcer. Bring us another round.” The older man to the left of him slurs.

I take a breath trying to compose myself. I’ve had enough of this table tonight. “Look, I’m sorry but I literally cannot serve you anymore. The POS system won’t let me ring it–”

“Either shut the fuck up or get us a drink.” He cuts me off.

I stand there for a moment, holding myself back from throwing his drink in his face when a man walks up and steps in front of me, whispering something in the drunk guy’s ear.

I can't help but stare at him. He’s incredibly tall, towering over the man with a presence that is hard to ignore. His skin is a rich tan that contrasts his bright green eyes. But what really catches my eye are his tattoos. They cover his arms, peeking out from the collar and sleeves of his impeccably tailored suit.

“Miss?” He says, his voice deep and rugged.

“I– I’m sorry what?”

“They’re ready for their bill.” He informs me, his tall form towering over me.

“We’re really sorry and this won’t happen again.” The younger man says, his face red with embarrassment. Or maybe fear?

I pick up the last of their glasses off of the table and take my receipts to the manager to cash out for the night.

“I hope those dickheads at that four top tipped you good.” My manager, Greg says, counting up my money.

“Nah, but whoever the guy was that said something to them left a benjamin on the table. I watched him slip it there when they left.” I laugh. Whoever he was, I hope he plans on coming back.

“Yeah, Andrea was serving him. Said he had his eyes on you the whole night and only ordered one drink.” Greg replies.

“He’s hot. Looked a little out of place though.” I say casually. “Well, time for me to get the hell out of here. I have a date with my couch and an episode ofDexterthat I’m running late for.

Grayson

“You know this is going to come back on us, right?” Luciano says.

“Maybe, but nothing we can’t handle.” I lean back in the chair at my desk, watching Luciano pace my office.

“If they find out the reason, Grayson, itwillbe something we may not be able to handle. We’re outnumbered with these guys.”

I consider him for a moment. “Look, they have no way of finding out. This isn’t their only business operation. I doubt they’ll even care enough to look into it and if they do, it’ll be Frank that will be on their radar, not us.

Luciano plops down on the chair across from me, resting his arms on his knees. “They know Frank is involved with us, though. When he turns up missing and his only daughter is married to you, then what?”

“Then we deal with it. You’re overthinking this.”

Luciano scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re trying to kill two birds with one stone with this sloppy ass plan, Grayson. We can’t deal with The Gold Serpent Cartel the way we deal with everyone else. We’ve never dealt with a cartel. This takes real planning.”

Just as I open my mouth to respond to Luciano, our Uncle Nino walks in, a cuban cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. “Ragazzi! How are we doing?” He shouts in his raspy voice, thick with an italian accent.

“All good here, Uncle Nino. Except for the fact that Luciano is questioning a plan I have in place.”

Uncle Nino ran the family business with my father before Luciano and I took over. He oversees things now to make sure we’re running the organization properly, but he never gets directly involved.

He turns, glaring down at Luciano. “Whatever it is your brother is planning, you need to be riding with him. This business can’t function when you question every move he makes.”

Luciano stands, towering over Uncle Nino’s short, plump frame. “The plan is messy. I have no choice but to follow through with what Grayson thinks is a good idea, but don’t be surprised if everything crumbles beneath his little ‘plan’.”

Luciano storms out without another word. He’s pissed. But he’ll see how this unfolds, and understand that I don’t make mistakes. It happens every time he disagrees with me about the business. For a hitman, he sure does tread lightly. Luciano always claims that it’s about being smart, I think he’s just a little too careful.

Rowan

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