Page 13 of The Prez

After he sees that he won’t wake, the man motions over tothe couch. I sit down on the hard surface. It’s definitely more for aesthetics than functionality.

“My name is Shane Astor. I’m a lawyer and work for Baby Rafael’s uncle. His father and mother passed away in a car accident a few weeks ago.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” I look over at Little Raf, my heart going out to him. To lose both of his parents at such an early age is tragic. Just like I feel about my niece and nephew, kids should know their parents. I’m still saddened they’ll never know their father.

Shane nods. “I can’t accept those condolences, since I didn’t know his parents, but I’m sure his uncle will appreciate them. Since I’m an attorney, he asked me for help vetting people that applied for the job. Your background check is clean and you appear to be good with kids.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, interrupting him. “Where is his uncle? Does he not want the responsibility and is pawning it off on you?” I don’t like the thought of that. It won’t mean anything good for Little Raf if his uncle is MIA after losing his parents so young.

“He had to run an errand with my boyfriend. They left only a few minutes before you arrived. They should be heading back shortly.”

I nod, rubbing the baby’s back to give myself something to do. “I’d really like to talk to him. He’ll be the one paying me if I’m hired.”

The rumbling of motorcycles sounds down the street and I find it odd. This isn’t the type of neighborhood that would house bikers. And the only ones I know are those that belong to Devil’s Mayhem.

My heart hammers in my chest as I think about both the tall dark-skinned guy that accosted me on the dance floor when I was selling pills and the owner of the club that had me choked out against his office door.

But now that I’m no longer in the situation, I have to admit that the owner was one of the handsomest men I’ve ever laid eyes on. His hawklike eyes, dark hair, and plump mouth have been swimming behind my eyes every time I try to fall asleep. He plays major roles in all my spank bank material, even though I know I should be afraid of him. I’m not sure if a fear kink is a thing, since I can’t seem to convince my body that he is not our friend.

The sounds of the motorcycles get closer, until they’re right outside the door. Little Raf stirs, but I bounce him more so he’ll settle. It takes a few seconds, but he only lets out a yawn before his mouth drops open again and he lets out little baby noises. I grin down at him, rubbing an index finger over his chubby little cheek.

I look back up at Shane, who has a nervous look on his face. The motorcycles outside have been turned off and I hear voices just outside the door. Shane speaks fast. “Hear him out before you turn the job down. He really needs help. I don’t want him to lose the last bit of family he has left.”

I start to ask who he’s talking about when the door opens and in walks the dark-skinned guy that almost broke my hand at Club Inferno and behind him is the owner that scared the shit out of me.

It’s a fight to stay seated. The only reason I do is because Little Raf is asleep and it seems like he hasn’t slept peacefully in a while.

The dark-skinned man smiles, but it’s not aimed at me—he only has eyes for Shane. “Hey, Counselor,” he practically purrs. He stalks over to Shane, pulls him to his feet and kisses him soundly. My eyebrows shoot up. I would say they don’t look like they match, but that’s not exactly true. For some reason, they complement each other, even though they haven’t spoken but those few words. It’s a vibe they give off, like they’re meant to be.

When they separate, Shane’s cheeks are flushed. “Hey, Enforcer. How did it go?”

“Good. It was just a flat. I could have gone alone, but …”

The Hispanic man behind him steps forward, looking at me holding Little Raf with a sneer. “What are you doing here?”

“I applied for the job,” I say in a quiet voice, afraid he’ll attack me if I speak louder than a whisper. “I didn’t know it was for you or I wouldn’t have shown up.”

The club owner’s—who I assume is the uncle Rafael since he and the baby look just alike—lip curls, but he doesn’t get a chance to retort before the man that almost broke my hand walks over to the couch, kneeling in front of me and rubbing Little Raf’s back. “How did you make him stop crying?” He looks up at me with an almost friendly smile.

I raise an eyebrow. “I didn’tmakehim do anything. I fed him and rocked him to sleep.”

“We tried that. Maybe he doesn’t like me.” He sits back on his heels with a frown. “Everyone likes me. Babies should too.” His eyes bounce up to meet mine. “You like me right?” I give him a wide eyed look. He simply smiles and says, “I’m Zeke. Pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out.

Stunned, I shuffle the baby around and shake his hand. “Omari. I would say the same, but I’m not real sure our first meeting was a pleasure at all.”

He barks a laugh and Little Raf stirs. I pat his back and he settles back to sleep quickly. I look at the man near the door who is still scowling at me and say, “I take it you’re Rafael, the uncle that Little Raf is named for?”

“That’s him,” Zeke says with humor in his tone.

“Not him,” Rafael says to Shane, but his gaze is locked on me. “Get someone else.”

Zeke stands up and turns to face him. “Prez, there ain’t nobody else. Everyone that’s interviewed has either not beenable to get Baby Rafael to stop crying or they ran for the hills when they found out you were the baby’s uncle. This kid is still here, so fucking chill out. You need the help.”

Shane bustles over, gently taking the baby from my arms. I miss his solid weight and warmth already. “I’ll put him down so we can talk. Then you can figure out if you want to take the job. Please don’t leave.” He whispers that last bit.

The angry man comes over to the couch and sits at the other end, glaring at me like I kicked his puppy. “What do you know about kids?”

“Enough that I got him to sleep,” I say with challenge. “What about you?”

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